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sparkexplosive · 4 years ago

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Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] ; 06

Precious Chapters in Sentiment [Izuku Midoriya] SERIES

Warning: Mental Health

Word Count: 2,010

Midoriya Izuku was standing in front of the invention room with his hero costume case because he broke his shoes once again. He is afraid to look at your face, but he needs to face you. Perhaps he isn’t ready to face you yet. He was about to turn around to walk away to ask Mei to fix his shoes instead. To only get startled by the sliding door opening to reveal Misaka.

“Oh! Midoriya. What may I help you?” Misaka calmly gave off the customer service voice along with a smile.

Midoriya couldn’t speak properly to the only rush through his word which leads it to be a scrambled mess.

Misaka’s eye twitches in annoyance. She could never really deal with his random rambles. She looks on both sides of the hallway before grabbing his collar and yanking him inside. Midoriya was about to fall on his face due to the sudden pull into the room. She walks away from him to sit down on her chair to continue working on Kirishima shoulder designs, after testing it would be sustainable enough against Kirishima unbreakable form without shattering into pieces from her previous prototypes.

She is just ignoring his presence until he learns how to speak. She is already irritated by him how Midoriya is not even standing up for (Name), her best friend. His friends are speaking to her best friend with hurtful words that would break anyone down especially under his watch is unacceptable. A screwdriver floats towards her which reminded him of his mother's quirk.

Midoriya gulps down his saliva, sensing tension in the air and looks over to your desk to find it surprisingly neat and cleaned as if it hasn’t been touched for a few days. It's an unusual sight to see it so organized compared to the times he has been in here. His eyes wander off to Misaka's side of the room to see her blueprints on the cardboard. He does recall that you did mention that Misaka switched with Hatsume Mei because her room was a lot closer to the inventory room.

The blueprints of her designs and items for Kirishima Eijirou upgraded costume pinned on the cardboard. She has a mannequin that was holding fabric that could be for his lower cape. In front of her were pauldrons blueprints with the design details. Misaka was adding the details on his pauldrons and messing with internal parts that seem to contain wires.

“It’s coming out very well, Misaka.” Midoriya tries to break the tension in the air, before speaking for the real reason for his trip here. “Could you perhaps fix my shoes?”

Misaka glances over to him and walks over to him to hastily take the case from him to evaluate the damage. She did catch his eyes looking over to your working station earlier.

“She is banned from using this room for fighting one of your fangirls along with damaged property.”

Misaka answers without him saying it out loud and takes the black metal shoes off his case to only collapse into different small pieces. Both of them just stare at the floor where the metal pieces collapsed into smaller pieces. “Well then. I could make a replica for you. It might be ready in the late afternoon tomorrow, b-”

Midoriya brims up at the news with a small smile instead of his usual big grins. “Thank you!”

She stops to turn to face him. “But!”

She stares closes the case hastily, before turning her blue eyes back into his green eyes. “Do you know about the rumors going around about (Name)?”

Midoriya was taken back at the question but narrowed his eyebrows. “I only know about the check, but it turns out to be true.”

Midoriya unconsciously flinches recalling the rumor was true and all the emotions that he has been pushing down resurface at once. She evacuates his body language and his eyes to see he is telling the truth. He seems to hang on by accepting the fact that your relationship was building on the bride.

“Well, your friends are belittling (name) by telling her. She is a whore to slut because of the rumors going around. They are getting dramatized and getting out of hand. The rumors are getting worse every passing day. Unless you set it straight. It would calm down the rumors.” She carefully watches his body language and his eyes.

From the dark lines underneath his eyes and more messy hair than usual. It seems he has been wrecked as well. The evidence is physical that he hasn’t been sleeping very well. Midoriya hasn't been able to sleep for the past couple of days due to getting nightmares repeatedly.

But from his expression, he didn’t know at all, filled with shock, and a mixture of surprise was written all over his face. His eyes were wide open and his mouth agape. Before he closes his mouth before licking them and gulping down his saliva. “I haven’t been paying attention of late.”

‘I have been in mind all day and night,’ He thought to himself.

His demons belittling why him and losing destroying himself confidence. The only time he can distract himself is by burying himself in schoolwork and training to quiet down that voice in his head. The other times, he unconsciously is blocking the world around him which makes his friends and classmates worry about him since he has been a less talkative and energetic ball of energy who is an excellent observer and analyzing at hand.

Aizawa asks him to go to the counselor's office today or tomorrow. He knows that Aizawa is worried about him to personally ask him to look for help.

His fingers fidget with the side of his tie as he licks his dry lips to confess.“I have mostly been in my world-”

“You have been in your mind. Midoriya. You are being your own worst enemy. Overthinking to thinking the worst possibilities. That's what you usually do.” Misaka interrupts him, before walking into your work station.

She opens a drawer to go through it to see your blueprint on what your design to offer to Midoriya. She stares at it for a second before taking it out and reaching underneath the table to pull out brown boxes that contain two metal cases with one of them has a red ribbon. She places the blueprint inside and holds out to him if only he wants to accept.

“[Name] might murder me for giving this to you. Its new equipment that they overworked themselves making sure this gift to you would be on time. But you know…. This would have been a future design blueprint. Just take a look and give those babies a try.”

Midoriya didn’t know what to say. His throats were dried up but his eyes landed on a red envelope attached to the metal case with red ribbon. It was possible the anniversary gift that she would have given him today. He forgot today was their anniversary before all this happened. They had plans but everything changed. He needed space and time to think. Y/N gave him the space that he asked and respected his decision.

But the curiosity is killing him wanting to know what they are inside those metal cases. He unconsciously reaches over to grab onto the box to find it surprising a little heavy.

“Take them and think would someone go through deep ends to create something so accurate for your liking and safety if they didn’t care about you. If you think you don’t want to accept it, you can go back and return them to me. I will have your replacements here waiting for you.” Misaka light heart comments.

Midoriya looks up from the box to look into her eyes. “Thank you.”

____________________________________

The day before getting emotional after school, surprisingly you had a wonderful time with the loudmouth student from Class A-3, Bakugou Katsuki. He had surprisingly cheered you up with some food and fun time at the arcade. It was memorable and the most fun you had ever experienced in an arcade. The two of you were being competitive trying to beat each other's scores.

You did realize in his way, he was distracting you from what happened the day before.

“Don’t let those extras get into your head. The only person you need to approve is yourself.” Bakugou advises while pointing at you with his chopsticks.

Your eyes had widened shows bewildered at his words as if he was speaking from experience, once his words sucked in which brought a wide grin on your lips.

“Thank you.” Your eyes were starting to shine like before the incident happened with the rumors. Your eyes are a portal to how you feel.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “You should know this by now. Extra's opinions shouldn’t matter.”

He knew you were hurting inside while putting on a strong face in front of everyone. But everyone has their limits by putting on that armor to make people intimate from messing with you. He knows it very well.

As he refused for you to pay for the dinner bill to pay him back from playing in the arcade. You know arcades are not cheap but expensive. However, he beat you from paying by taking his credit card before you could.

“Save that money for your mouth-” He exclaims calmly.

“Bakugou, that's a lot of money. Let m-.” You tried to reason with him, but he continues to shoot you down.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Get it through your thick brain!” Bakugou slashing out, clearly getting irritated by you bugging him about paying him back. He clearly refuses to accept your money.

At the end of the day, you were conflicted about how to feel about Bakugou since you saw another side of Bakugou that you haven’t seen until now. It's like Kirishima said to you before when you asked for Bakugou help for the gloves that you created for Midoriya.

“He has a good heart, he just roughs around the edges. Give him time, he will get comfortable with you.”

You had witnessed what Kirishima was talking about yesterday. Bakugou has a different way of showing he cares. However what caught you off guard when he had walked you back to your dorms like your bodyguard intimidating any students from looking over to you.

You turn around in front of the steps of your dorm to thank him. “Thank you for everything. Bakugou.”

Bakugou simply nods, like typical behavior for him. When you were turning around to walk up the stairs. He had grasped your wrist stopping you at your tracks.

“You can call me. Katsuki, only if you want to... Have a nice night.” He lets go from your wrist.

You were shocked that Bakugou even suggested it, but knew it's a big deal for him to permit him to call him by his first name. It could mean numerous things, but that is the moment you thought. He trusts you.

Once you had sucked in his words, you only smiled back at him.

“I will be taking up that offer. Good night, Katsuki!”

Unknown to you, Bakugoug Katsuki could feel his heart skip a beat from hearing your voice calling him by his first name. He couldn’t explain it, but it makes him feel weird in a way that is not normal for him.

A small smile curls up to his lips while he was walking back to his dorms while recalling what happened that afternoon. He did have a lot of fun playing video games with you in an attempt to distract you from what is happening in school.

He does care about you but is unsure why he is feeling this sort of way ever since the two of you started working together for your project of gloves. He has gotten comfortable with your presence more than he would like to admit.

Perhaps, he has a crush on you….

It can’t be…, right?

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I would love to hear any predictions or theories, you guys have!

Feedback is appreciated!

Please be kind within the comments. I hope you are enjoying the story. Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.

if anyone wishes to be tagged, either send me an ask or comment below this post! Taglist will be in the comments.

#Sentiment #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x reader bnha #deku x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero fanfic

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serenlyss · 5 years ago

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Don’t Thank Me Yet Chapter 3

Rating: M (guns, murder, ptsd, canon typical violence, mentions of torture) Pairing: ritshou Summary: “Alright then. I’m Shou,” he says, introducing himself more properly this time. “I’m an esper, like you, the first in existence to be forcibly awoken by Claw’s crazy torture machines. They kidnap kids with potential latent psychic powers and break them, over and over, until either their powers emerge or they die. It doesn’t matter either way to them.” His expression hardens as he speaks, clear distaste and outright malice evident in his tone. “I could really use your help here, you know. A partner of sorts, someone to watch my back. What do you say?“ Ritsu hesitates. He isn’t a fighter by any means, and the psychic powers now churning beneath his skin are still very new and frightening. It’s all very overwhelming, but Ritsu can’t help but feel a sort of sickening hope at Shou’s promise for revenge. It did have a sort of dark draw to it. In which Claw is a lot worse than they seem and Shigeo isn’t able to find his brother after he’s kidnapped. Crossposted to AO3: Chapter 3

Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

Here's chapter three! This one's a longer one and I spent a lot of time editing it to make sure it landed well, so I hope you all like it! Thanks to @wiz-witch for beta reading this chapter!

“The base is one of the old types. We know the floor plan well,” Ootsuki debriefs. “Higashio found it after tailing an unmarked black vehicle to the outskirts of Seasoning City. You can probably guess why it sounded so suspicious.” He turns to look over his shoulder from the passenger seat of Higashio’s car, expression grim.

Ritsu swallows thickly. The description is eerily reminiscent of the car he’d been shoved into after being beaten to near-death by the Claw esper who had kidnapped him, the kind with tinted windows and sound-proof doors. “There might be other esper kids there,” he says, expression hardening in fierce determination.

In the four months he and Shou had been working together, they’d destroyed quite a few Claw bases, but only a few had actually housed kidnapped espers, and none of them had shown signs of being significantly powerful psychics. None of them had been extended the offer to join Shou’s resistance, either, their powers too new or too weak to be of much use.

“You had exceptionally strong psychic powers as soon as you were awakened,” Shou had told him, not long after they’d first met. “It’s why I offered you the job in the first place, and it’s why Claw is so intent on finding you. Most espers are weak when they first awaken. If they were all as powerful as you were, you wouldn’t have been able to make as easy of an escape as you did.”

“Do you think there might actually be kids in this one?” Ritsu asks, glancing to his side.

Shou sits beside him, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. His brow furrows in thought, and he frowns. “If there’s a chance, we have to take it,” he says firmly. He’s dropped his usual snarky cheerfulness for an air of calm resolution, a look he always gets when he’s focused on a mission. He sits up. “We’ll go with our usual formation: Ritsu and I will head for the basement and pick up any prisoners we find while the rest of you take the top floor. Take out the Scars on sight, but play it safe; Today’s not the day to take risks.”

Ritsu can’t help but agree. It isn’t often that they get back-to-back intel, and taking out two Claw bases in two days is certain to leave them worn out and more than a little battered. He’s already beat up enough from the last mission, the glass cuts on his arms and foot still fresh, so he won’t be able to fight at full throttle if a brawl breaks out. “We should be as fast as possible,” he adds, glancing at Shou. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

On Shou’s other side, Fukuda gives a brisk nod. “Yes, there’s no use in staying longer than we need to. Usually we would take the time to find hints of the enemy’s plans, but it may be too dangerous to do that this time around,” he agrees.

Shou sighs, obviously a bit disappointed, but he doesn’t argue. “Alright, we’ll be quick, then. In and out, and we blow the place sky-high as soon as we regroup.”

Murmurs of assent fill the vehicle, and then the group falls silent as Higashio drives them all down a forest road. Ritsu looks out the window; it’s already long past sunset, the sky black and dotted with white stars overhead. He feels a familiar fluttering in his stomach, a nervousness that makes his heart rate pick up and his breathing come a little quicker. He gets it anytime they go off on a mission, subconsciously preparing himself for being back inside a replica of the lab that had tortured him only a few months ago, and even though he’s never stepped foot inside this particular building, he remembers the layout of it vividly.

He feels a hand rest lightly on his shoulder, drawing his attention away from the blurry trees outside. Shou isn’t looking at Ritsu, gaze fixed on the floor of the car as he waits for Higashio to announce their arrival, but the comfort is still there. Ritsu lets out a breath and forces himself to relax a bit, focusing on the weight on his shoulder.

It takes a few more minutes of driving before Higashio suddenly takes the car off-road, carefully weaving through a sparser part of the woods in search of a place to stash the car. Ritsu grips the handrail over his head and Shou reaches out to grab the back of the passenger’s seat. Ritsu can see the anticipation burning in his gaze as he leans forward, eyes searching for that gray concrete building through the gaps between the trees.

“We’re here,” Higashio says, putting the car into park. Ritsu immediately pushes open the car door and climbs out. A light, cool breeze stirs his hair, and he absent-mindedly adjusts the black gloves on his hands. It’s a cold night for it being summer.

Shou steps out beside him, squinting into the trees. “We’re too far away to get a good look. Let’s get a bit closer and scope the place out before we go inside,” he instructs, fiddling with the hems of the pockets of his jacket restlessly. He worries the seams between his fingers and thumb, tugging at loose threads in an attempt to relieve some of his restlessness. He strides forward without even bothering to see if the others are following, single-mindedly focused on his goal. Ritsu can practically feel the apprehension radiating from him. It’s not like Shou to get worked up over a mission; he must be feeling extra concerned over this one.

Ritsu shakes his head and falls into step a pace behind him, and the rest of the group follows close behind. He speeds up a little so he can walk beside Shou instead of behind him, peering down at his resolute expression. “Hey,” he says, “we’re gonna be fine. We’ve done this a dozen times already.”

Shou casts him a glance, eyebrows raising slightly in a faint show of surprise. Then a small grin breaks out on his face, and he turns his gaze forward again, squaring his shoulders. “Yeah, I know,” he replies, letting his hands drop from his pockets to hang open at his sides instead. His posture is more relaxed now, more like what Ritsu’s used to seeing from him.

They walk a bit longer before Shou pauses. The concrete walls of the lab can be seen now, illuminated by the bright white lights that circle the outside of it. Ritsu pauses beside him, casting him a glance while he waits for Shou to execute their plan.

Wordlessly, Shou lifts a hand and gestures for Higashio, Ootsuki, and Fukuda to separate from them and make their way to the other side of the building. “Larger groups are easier to spot. Go around to the back way, Ritsu and I will go from the side,” he says, keeping his voice low and quiet in case anyone’s hiding nearby.

Higashio gives a brief nod and leads the way into the trees, Ootsuki and Fukuda close behind. Ritsu figures he won’t see them again until they leave the building.

Shou crouches down in the tall grass surrounding the outer edge of the lab’s property, and Ritsu follows his lead. “The fastest and easiest way in is to use invisibility,” he decides, turning to look at Ritsu.

“I’ve only been able to do that in practice,” Ritsu points out, biting his lower lip hesitantly. “I’m sure it would work fine for you, but-”

“If you can do it in practice, you can do it here,” Shou says firmly, with clear confidence in Ritsu’s ability.

Ritsu sighs. “You said today wasn’t the day to take risks.”

Shou grins at this, a familiar sight at this point. His stiffness from earlier has all but disappeared, his apparent nervousness replaced with an easy assuredness. “Yeah, but this will make things ten times easier, I counted,” he says matter-of-factly. “Besides, we’re already beat up enough as is. The less people we have to fight to get inside, the better.”

Well, he does have a point, Ritsu thinks to himself begrudgingly, and pushes himself to his feet. “Alright, then. We should hurry, before Higashio and the others start fighting,” he says, letting his aura leak out and swirl around him.

“Wait,” Shou says sharply, tugging Ritsu back down by the sleeve of his black shirt. He reaches down and unclasps something from around his leg before offering it to him. It takes Ritsu a moment to realize that it’s a gun: a pistol, silver and carefully cleaned, free of rust and grime. Well-used. “Take this,” he murmurs, gripping the pistol by its barrel as he points the grip at him.

Ritsu’s throat goes dry and his body goes stock-still. His hands feel clammy all of a sudden. “That’s a weapon. For killing people,” he says, voice wavering.

“It’s a weapon for protecting yourself,” Shou retorts, not lowering his hand. He holds Ritsu’s gaze steadily, fierce blue eyes boring into him in the darkness. “I know you don’t like the idea of using one, but I just…” he trails off, gaze flicking downward somberly. He looks uncharacteristically worried, when he would normally approach these missions with an upbeat optimism and cockiness. “Just keep it on you, okay? If everything goes well, you won’t even have to touch it.”

Ritsu hesitates, eyes locked on the gun’s reflective surface. It feels wrong, so wrong, but he reaches out and accepts it anyway. He’s only shot a gun a few times, all under Shou’s teaching, but he’s never brought one into a fight before. It feels cold and ominously heavy in his hands. Shou passes him the holster as well, which Ritsu reluctantly accepts and secures around his upper thigh. He slides the pistol into it, the weight noticeable on his hip, and carefully secures the strap over the top of it to keep it from falling out accidentally. “Alright, just in case,” he says softly. When he straightens up this time, Shou follows close behind.

“Thanks,” he murmurs simply, staring resolutely down at the Claw base instead of meeting Ritsu’s gaze. “You can just consider it a last resort. We’ve never done back to back missions like this before, so I guess I’m just… I have a feeling.”

Ritsu doesn’t want to think about what a feeling like that might mean, so he doesn’t ask any further questions.

Shou takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and Ritsu sees his bright red-orange aura begin to encircle him. “Showtime,” he whispers, and in a flash both he and his aura disappear. In his place, a tiny wisp of his aura blinks into existence, something for Ritsu to focus on so they don’t get separated.

Ritsu has to squint to make out the little place-marker. It’s so small that it would be unnoticeable to anyone who isn’t specifically searching for it, a little orange flicker that hovers in the space where Shou’s heart would be. “Give me a minute,” he says to it, furrowing his brow and closing his eyes as he attempts to replicate the disappearing act. It’s difficult to continuously bend the light around him while also keeping his aura tightly contained, and if he isn’t careful he’ll tip off all the espers in the area that he’s arrived, so he makes sure to take his time and do thing right. He focuses on the mental image of what he’ll need to do, reaching out with imaginary hands to bend something he can’t actually touch with fingers that feel nothing and cannot be felt by anything else.

When Ritsu opens his eyes again, he can see the distortion around him, falling over him like a second skin a few inches shy of touching him. It shimmers in different colors as light rays attempt to touch him and reflect off the sort of barrier he’s constantly maintaining now. He takes a breath and focuses on keeping his aura close and contained; it won’t do to get inside just to have his own lack of control be the thing that gets them caught before they’re ready.

“Okay, let’s go,” Ritsu murmurs to the little flame at his side. He feels a hand lightly slip into his own, Shou’s hand, and the flicker goes out immediately.

“Stay close.” Shou’s voice sounds from beside him, giving off an air of disembodiment despite the fact that Ritsu knows he’s still very much present. He feels him tug on his hand, descending the hillside toward the building with feather-light footsteps. Their joined hands feel like they’re submerged, and their auras swirl around them, shifting, touching, but never mixing, like oil and water. Ritsu keeps a firm grip as they pick their way down the hill.

A handful of weak espers guard the front door of the building, and Shou keeps a wide berth to avoid alerting them. Instead, he heads for the side of the building, to a single door illuminated by a lone white searchlight. A guard stands outside it, leaning against the wall with a bored expression on his face. Ritsu can tell immediately that he has no powers to his name. Probably security, he thinks.

Shou taps a finger against the inside of his wrist twice, a signal for him to hang back and wait, and then the hand leaves his.

He feels strangely abandoned, his heart dropping in response to Shou’s sudden disappearance. It’s uncomfortable not being able to see or sense him, but Shou isn’t gone for long. His eyes trace the ground where Shou’s footsteps bend the grass until he stands just behind the security guard.

The man crumples to the ground a moment after, knocked down by a swift blow to the head. Once he’s down, Shou drops his invisibility and reaches into the man’s pocket, rifling around until he finds what he’s looking for: a key card that will let them enter the building. He waves a hand for Ritsu to follow him, holding the card up against the electronic lock.

Ritsu drops his own light-bending barrier, letting out a breath. He reaches up and wipes away a few beads of sweat from his forehead that had formed during their descent down the hill, then falls in behind Shou as he cracks open the door and steps inside.

The gray concrete walls that fence them in are immediately familiar to Ritsu, and he swallows back the brief panic that comes over him as the door falls shut behind them. The hall is empty aside from the two of them, branching off in three directions.

“We’re headed for the basement,” Shou murmurs to him, turning left and striding down the hall. Ritsu keeps close to him, eyes searching for any signs of life. He glances nervously over his shoulder, but there’s no one in sight, the halls empty and quiet. He rubs his arms as if to suppress the goosebumps that raise beneath his long-sleeved shirt, and hopes they won’t have to stay for long.

Ritsu knows that Shou’s been in enough of these bases that he’s memorized the layout, each one a perfect copy of the last. His directions are quick and confident, leading them on the quickest path to where potential allies might be hiding. Getting any kidnapped kids out is always their top priority, and Ritsu knows the basement cells well. He’d spent a majority of his two days locked in them, sleeping on the cold floor and trying to make himself scarce. The image of the long, dark hall, lined with barred doors, is forever seared into his brain.

Shou leads him to the basement door, which swings open easily to reveal a stone staircase leading down into the dimly-lit depths. A puff of cold, stale air spills out from it, sending a shiver up Ritsu’s spine as it tickles his legs. “You ready?” Shou asks, casting a sideways glance at Ritsu. There’s an unspoken question hidden in his light blue eyes that comes across in his hesitation and the way he defaults to Ritsu to lead the way down.

Ritsu takes a calming breath and nods firmly. “Let’s go,” he says, putting as much confidence as he can muster into his words, and takes the first step into the stairwell.

With no windows to the outside or even a vent to let in fresh air, the basement truly does feel like a prison. The air is thick and suffocating, bringing with it a sense of dread that clings to Ritsu’s skin and makes his hands feel clammy even beneath his dark gloves. He clenches and unclenches his fists restlessly, focusing on keeping his footsteps light and quiet like Shou always does. It smells like dirt and dust and, faintly, blood, the slightly metallic edge of it making Ritsu’s stomach turn. He stubbornly ignores the occasional brown stain on the concrete beneath his feet.

Shou sticks close to Ritsu’s side, casting occasional glances his way, and Ritsu pretends not to notice. He always seems to pick up the habit when they’re within the Claw bases, and Ritsu can’t help but feel defensive about it. After all, Shou had also spent a considerable amount of time in the confines of the Claw bases, had the same bad memories Ritsu did. In a way, Shou is even worse off, knowing that it had been his own father that had supplemented his nightmares, and yet he continues to put Ritsu’s feelings in front of his own, in little ways. Ritsu tries not to let it get to him, bites his tongue to keep from calling Shou out on it.

“I’ll check the cells up front, you take the back,” Ritsu suggests, casting Shou a sideways glance. “It’ll be faster if we split up.”

Shou hesitates, obviously not fond of the idea of splitting their already-small party, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, alright. The quicker we get through this, the quicker we can get out again,” he murmurs, making his way toward the back of the hall. His steps echo softly in the empty space.

Ritsu can tell there’s no one down here. If there is, they’re being incredibly quiet and have no aura to speak of, and his thoughts are only confirmed as he walks by empty cell after empty cell. He’s somehow relieved and disappointed at the same time. On one hand, it means that Claw hasn’t kidnapped anyone recently, at least not in this area. On the other hand, it means that anyone who might have ended up here is already gone. Ritsu swallows down a lump in his throat at the realization and crosses his arms, trying to ignore the way his stomach churns. He lets out a sigh, turning his back to the basement door as he heads in Shou’s direction. “Nothing,” he calls, his voice carrying in the quiet.

“Nothing here, either,” Shou confirms, moving to meet Ritsu in the middle of the hall. “Let’s go wait for the others at the top of the hill. Once we’re all out we can blow this place up and get the hell-”

Shou’s instructions are cut off by the boom of the basement door swinging roughly open. Ritsu whirls on his heels, shocked, and barely manages to raise a barrier around himself and Shou before a torrent of fire collides with it. The blue and purple surface of it nearly cracks under the force of the attack, and Shou curses under his breath, arms raised to instinctively shield his face.

“What the fuck? How did they find us?” he yells over the noise of the flames outside the barrier.

Ritsu can already feel sweat beading on his forehead as the temperature inside the blue-and-purple dome rises steadily. “How am I supposed to know?” he snaps back, hands raised in front of him as he fights to keep the barrier up. “Do something!”

Shou spits another string of curses under his breath, squinting through the flames. He thrusts out a hand after a moment, and Ritsu hears a dull thud followed by an angry shout. The flames dissipate around him, and when Ritsu drops his barrier he sees the form of a man pressed up against the back door. Shou has a tight grip on him, his bright orange aura keeping the man firmly in place. Ritsu immediately notices the angry red line that crosses his eye: a Scar.

“It’s just pyrokinesis! Don’t panic,” Shou says confidently, but Ritsu has his doubts after feeling the strength of the attack aimed at them.

Shou’s hold doesn’t last for long. The Scar breaks through with force and rushes forward at a speed neither of them are expecting. In a second he’s inches away from Ritsu, one menacing hand raised to strike and coated in white-hot fire. Ritsu barely manages to stumble back enough that he isn’t impaled by the attack, but he feels a burst of burning pain in his upper arm that tears straight through his long-sleeved shirt and sears his skin.

“Ritsu!” he hears Shou cry, ducking a second strike that threatens to singe the hair off the top of his head. He can’t see where Shou is, too busy trying to keep himself in one piece. He raises a barrier as the Scar throws a punch in his direction, but his fist goes clean through it, shattering it like glass. Ritsu feels the burning fist sink into the side of his face, sending him sprawling to the floor. His mind goes fuzzy for a moment, pain ripping through his arm and cheek. Get up, he tells himself vehemently, pushing himself to his hands and knees. By the time he’s regained his footing, Shou’s had time to intervene.

He has the Scar on the defensive, somehow, managing to keep up with the larger man’s bursts of fire and impressive strength despite his smaller size and weaker stature. He sees Shou reach out a hand and throw the adult esper across the room, into an open jail cell, and then Shou is running to him, eyes wide. He grabs Ritsu by his uninjured arm and pulls. “Let’s get out of here, there’s no reason to waste our time,” he says urgently.

“Y-Yeah,” Ritsu agrees, still somewhat dazed. As Shou tugs him down the hall, though, the Scar breaks free of the rubble he’d fallen into and exits the cell. At his side, Shou freezes, still clutching his arm.

Ritsu makes a split-second decision as he sees the Scar prepare another attack, and crowds Shou into a nearby empty cell. Behind his back, a pillar of fire fills the hall. Ritsu throws up a barrier for good measure, but the fire stays on its path, the flames never passing the now heat-warped barred wall. “That was too close,” he breathes, hand shaking.

“We need to get out of here,” Shou pants, looking equally as worn out as Ritsu feels. There’s a dark bruise forming around his left eye already, and he’s gripping his right arm tightly. “We can’t afford to wait around until the other Scars come join the fun, we’re beat up enough as is.” He eyes the fresh burns on Ritsu’s skin. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ritsu replies immediately, stubbornly ignoring the way his burns sting in protest to his words, “except I probably just cornered us.”

Shou flashes him a devious grin, the kind that lets Ritsu know he has a plan, and he promptly goes invisible. “Shou!” Ritsu hisses, feeling a panic well up in him against his will. He can hear the Scar approaching, his footsteps loud in the empty hall, but Shou is already gone.

The Scar appears in the doorway like an ominous shadow, hulking over Ritsu’s slight form. He blocks the exit with his broad body, but doesn’t attack. “It was a mistake for you to try and infiltrate this place,” he growls, deep voice gravelly and cruel. It sends a shiver down Ritsu’s spine as he presses himself against the back wall, trying to put as much space between them as possible. “I’ll give you one chance, boy. Come quietly and I won’t burn you to ashes.”

Despite the fear coursing through him, Ritsu manages a defiant grin. “How kind of you to offer, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass. I’m really not keen on being kidnapped a second time,” he snarks, because if he’s going to go down, he’s going to go down with his pride intact.

The Scar has the nerve to look disappointed, which only adds fuel to Ritsu’s burning annoyance at this situation. “What a shame,” he laments, “you could have been quite powerful.” Then he raises a hand as he has so many times already.

Ritsu squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. Any day now, Shou! he prays vehemently, but there’s no sign of his partner yet. He summons another barrier despite the fact that he knows it’s too weak to do anything but save him a few seconds of time, but the fire doesn’t come. Instead, the Scar lets out a surprised, somewhat pained shout.

Ritsu peeks open one eye, and sees that Shou has thrown himself on the Scar’s back, one arm wrapped tightly around his neck in a chokehold. As the Scar reaches up to grab him, Shou leaps back, flashing Ritsu a look that says, “Do it now!”

On instinct, Ritsu thrusts out a hand and throws the man backward with a surge of telekinetic force. The Scar crashes into the back wall and disappears behind it, throwing up a thick cloud of dust and debris.

Ritsu goes to stand by Shou outside the cell, grimacing. “What took you so long?” he accuses. “I could’ve died, you know!”

Shou just laughs, unhindered by Ritsu’s accusatory words. “Aw, come on, Ritsu, you know me better than that,” he replies, elbowing Ritsu gently in the arm. “I’ll never let that happen.” He casts a glance at the dusty air where the adult esper disappeared moments before. “As much fun as it is saving your life, though, we’d better get out of here. I bet reinforcements are already on their way.”

Ritsu nods his agreement, and the two of them hurry for the basement door. Ritsu reaches it first, raising a hand to turn the handle and let themselves out. His fingers barely brush the dingy metal before he feels the Scar’s huge hand grab him by the throat. He lets out a strangled gasp as he’s lifted off his feet effortlessly and thrown like a baseball across the room, thoughts turning to static as he fights to reorient himself. His back collides with hard concrete, the breath knocked out of his lungs as the wall behind him cracks. He falls onto his hands and knees, fighting to breathe, and faintly realizes that if he wasn’t psychic, he’d be dead on the spot.

The thing is, though, he doesn’t feel psychic anymore. He pushes himself up onto his knees, reaches out to attack, but nothing happens. He can’t feel his aura thrumming under his skin, can’t feel the way it presses at the back of his mind like a constant reminder of how powerful he is. His breathing stutters, cold dread settling over him like fog. The hand held in front of him shakes. “My powers… I can’t use them!” he stammers, disbelief and fear clouding his judgement.

Shou’s fallen back to put some space between them and the esper, who stands with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Shou casts him a shocked glance. “What do you mean you can’t use them?” he demands. He turns around in time to put a barrier around them both, a giant fireball colliding with it and sizzling against Shou’s bright aura.

“As soon as he touched me, my aura disappeared,” he explains as quickly as he can, because they’re in the middle of a life-or-death battle and dammit, this isn’t the time to panic! He stumbles to his feet, but he can feel his legs quivering. Even without the fear settling into his bones, he’s exhausted from having to defend himself and emotionally drained from being confined within the thick concrete walls that remind him way too much of things he doesn’t want to think about right now. He clutches his head, willing his heart to stop thudding so hard.

“Ritsu, keep it together!” Shou cries, chancing a wide-eyed glance over his shoulder, and in his distraction the Scar rushes forward again and shatters Shou’s barrier with a clenched fist. Shou yelps, a sound that quickly turns into a choked gasp as the adult esper lifts him off the ground by his throat in one smooth motion and pins him up against the wall.

“You’re the boss’s brat,” the esper realizes, tightening his grip. Shou’s aura retreats back into his body and then blinks out entirely, like it’s been sucked up by a vacuum. Ritsu can see that much, but when he calls on his own power, buried somewhere inside of him, nothing responds. “You’ve been a real pain in the ass to us lately. Well, your father will know what to do with you. Go to sleep now,” the Scar continues, an annoyed scowl on his face.

Shou glares back at the man defiantly, but Ritsu can see the fear that forms behind his anger at the mention of being sent back to his father. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His face is turning red. He grabs the arm holding him in place tightly, his knuckles white as he attempts to pry the man’s grip off of him, but without his aura to supplement his strength there’s only so much he can do. His gaze flicks to Ritsu, searching, pleading.

I have to do something, his frantic thoughts scream at him, even as his hands shake uncontrollably and he hears the blood rushing in his ears. If I don’t move, it’s over. They’ll take him, they’ll kill me. What can I do without my powers?

With a shaky gasp he recalls the weight on his hip, the metal pressed against his thigh through the fabric of his pants, and he knows what he has to do. He reaches down with fumbling fingers and undoes the strap holding the weapon in place, his fingers curling around the handle of it. He pulls it out and flicks the safety off, pointing it at the esper before he loses his nerve. Shou’s eyes go wide in noiseless shock, but the Scar is too focused on him to notice until he hears the click of a bullet being loaded into the barrel. By then it’s too late to react; Ritsu grits his teeth and pulls the trigger.

The noise of the gunshot is deafening and echoes grimmly in the empty hall, the recoil sending jolts up Ritsu’s arm. He doesn’t wait to see if the shot even connects, quickly firing off a second, third, then fourth round. The Scar’s grip falters and both he and Shou fall to the ground.

Shou catches himself on his hands and knees and sucks in a deep, desperate, gasping breath. Then he immediately starts to cough, the force of it shaking his whole body as he fights to get oxygen back into his lungs.

Pain shoots up Ritsu’s burned arm and he chokes on a pained cry. His hand spasms and he loses his grip on the gun, which clatters to the floor and lays still. He drops to his knees beside it, his shaking legs no longer able to support his weight. It’s over, Shou’s free, they’re both alive.

He feels sick.

Across the hall from him, Shou finally manages to get his feet under him. He stumbles to Ritsu’s side, clearly still shaken, and says, urgent and worried, “We have to go.” He grasps Ritsu’s arm with quivering hands, face pale, and his wide-eyed gaze flicks back and forth between the basement door and the esper laying in the rubble as he scoops up the gun and shoves it back into the holster at Ritsu’s thigh.

Ritsu stares at his hand as Shou hauls him to his feet. His aura unfurls around him, as though flowing out of a faucet that’s been turned off for a while. When Shou tugs his arm toward the basement door, he pulls back. “Wait,” he says, then raises his injured arm, the one Shou isn’t clinging too, and blows a hole in the far wall. He doesn’t bother with subtlety, because they’re way past staying hidden. Beyond the hole, he can see trees.

Shou doesn’t hesitate, and neither does Ritsu. They both make a break for the hole, clambering over the concrete rubble, and neither of them look back at the unmoving shape on the prison floor.

They don’t stop running until they’re deep in the forest, so deep that they can’t even make out the glaring searchlights of the Claw base anymore. Ritsu gives way first, stumbling on the uneven ground and falling onto his hands and knees. Pain flares in his burned arm as he does, and he feels the dirt and rocks dig into his scarred palms through the fabric of his gloves. His breathing comes in labored gasps, and he feels tears run down his face and wet the ground beneath him, brought to the surface by his pain and desperation and the overwhelming anxiety welling up in him.

Shou stumbles to a halt and quickly turns back for him, dropping to his knees and gripping Ritsu’s shoulders with both hands. “Ritsu?” he asks, voice shaky and hoarse.

“I killed him,” Ritsu whispers, voice coming in short, breathy sobs. “I didn’t even hesitate.” He lifts his head and looks at Shou’s face, sees the blossoming bruises that appear at his throat in his periphery.

Shou swallows visibly, his breathing hitching as his expression breaks from his previous desperate fear to an intense surprise and deep worry, as though he’s only just realized what’s happened, what Ritsu’s had to do. He pulls Ritsu in by his shoulders and squeezes him tightly. “You saved me,” he manages in reply, voice cracking.

Ritsu clings to him, digs his fingers into the back of Shou’s shirt and buries his face in his shoulder. He’s exhausted and overwhelmed, and he can’t bring himself to stop the sudden overflow of emotion despite the fact that they aren’t safe yet. Shou holds on just as hard, one hand pulling him in by the back of his shoulder while the other lays flat against the small of his back.

Only when Ritsu finally starts to calm down does Shou move, gently pushing Ritsu away. “Hey, we have to get moving, alright? We just need to find the car, and then we can rest,” he urges, standing up and tugging Ritsu along with him.

Ritsu nods, not trusting himself to say anything, and lets Shou help him to his feet. Shou lays an arm around his shoulders, half-guiding him as they both begin to walk again. His thoughts race, and he folds his arms around himself in an attempt at self-comfort as he focuses on not tripping over tree roots and tall grass. Shou’s hand is tight on his shoulder, gripping him as though something might pull them apart at any moment. He hardly notices when they finally stumble upon the car minutes later.

Higashio rolls down the driver’s seat window as they approach, looking simultaneously startled and relieved. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for ages, what happened? Did you-” he cuts himself off when he sees just how badly beaten and tired they are.

Shou squeezes Ritsu’s shoulder. “Change of plans, we don’t have time to blow this one up. Let’s get back to the hideout as fast as we can, Claw’s gonna be looking out for us.”

Ritsu half listens as Shou crowds him into the back of the car, immediately pressing himself into the back corner as though to make himself as small as possible. He scrubs at his eyes and cheeks with the palm of one hand, wiping away the leftovers of his tears. He doesn’t cry or shake anymore, just leans against the car door until his arm throbs and doesn’t say a word. Shou doesn’t speak either, sitting close enough to Ritsu that their legs press together, and Fukuda climbs in beside them and closes the door behind him. Higashio wastes no time in starting up the car and beginning the long drive back, just as eager to leave as the rest of them are. In the passenger seat, Ootsuki casts occasional glances back at them. Ritsu can’t see his eyes, his black bangs falling over them, but the frown on his face gives away his clear concern. He doesn’t say anything, though, nor does anyone else. Shou rests his elbows on his thighs and lets his face fall into his hands, taking deep breaths that still sound hoarse and labored.

Ritsu tears his gaze away from the purpling bruises on the side of Shou’s neck and presses himself into the corner, staring out the window and feeling a familiar daze fall over him. He knows that he’s probably dissociating, his mind going quiet as his eyes stare through the trees without really taking anything in, but he’s too tired to care. He knows that he should be feeling scared, or ashamed, or regretful, or angry, or something, but instead he just feels numb. He faintly wonders if this is how his brother feels when he’s trying not to let his emotions control him. Eventually he even forgets to think, vision blurring out as he fixes his eyes on a point in the distance and doesn’t move again until the car pulls into the house’s driveway.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #ritshou #kageyama ritsu #suzuki shou #mp100 fanfic #fanfiction #blood #murder #ptsd #guns #torture #serendipitousfics

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fateascensor · 7 years ago

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Cycle I - Aὐτοκράτωρ (4)

Vytauto Didžiojo Karo Muziejus, Kaunas, Lithuania. November 11, evening.

Reining in his horse and stopping in the rooftop of a building close to the museum, Rider got down from it and screamed in frustration at his master's protest. "Where are we going?!" and "Rider, stop!" were words he had heard enough of today for his first life and his entire time as a servant, however long this one might be. He turned back as his master got down. Guillaume was taller than him, but that wouldn't matter to a servant. He grabbed his master by the collar and lifted him from the ground. "Rider, what are you doing, don't make me-" Rider threw him across the rooftop. "You already used a command spell, don't you remember?! Do you want to run out of them?!" Shouting, he walked up to his master, who was trying to get up, and slapped his face, throwing him down again. "You are a coward! An unworthy subject! Worse! An unworthy soldier! Weakling! Coward! My Guard wouldn't be able to clean your blood off their axes because you would die just from hearing their battlecry! You can do whatever you want in your cowardice after we get the grail, but do not dare cower before the enemy like that again!" His master was reduced to tears, looking from Rider to his hand, to the ground, he cried. Rider sighed and helped him up. "Look at me, Master." Taking a few steps back to give his master breathing room, he grabbed his mantle and threw it on the floor. He took his crown and did the same. "I was born to this. To the court, to the banquets, to the sweet life of an Emperor. Do you see my mantle? I was born in the purple, but my life was and is that of a soldier. You can insult my rule, but do not insult my prowess. I understand there are great fears in a man's life, Master, but there are times in which we must rise to face them."

"If you choose not to face your fears in your life, then it is your problem, I won't, as Emperor, tell you to do so. But in battle we are soldiers of my army, and you will behave as such and you will not fear the enemy but strike fear in them, whatever they might be." He took out his sword. "Come here, Master. Hold this weapon." Hubert approached cautiously. He had stopped crying, but he was still trembling a little. He took the sword by the handle and seemed surprised by its weight. "Do you like the feeling of a sword in your hand?" His master shook his head once. It seemed he couldn't even muster a whisper. "It matters not. Not all soldiers enter the fray for their love of weaponry or battle. Starting tomorrow we will train like soldiers. We can take a sword from the museum for you. Your magic is no good if you can't use it. Your familiars couldn't approach this museum and you say the fool inside isn't even a proper mage." His master gulped, but nodded. Rider turned his back to him and closed his eyes, touching his face in thought. "You mustn't forget that I am not only my bellic accomplishments, Master, I was the Emperor, I, Basileios II, was the Aὐτοκράτωρ, and one of the best, one of the few not to disgrace the Empire. I will command you as a soldier, and you will obey, but I shall listen to your counsel." Rider faced his master and motioned for him to speak.

"I... I'm s-sorry, Rider... For m-my cowardice." His master was trying to stop shaking. The relationship between master and servant had effectively been reversed, to Guillaume's shock. He straightened up a bit, but still shifted his look away from Rider, darting across the rooftop and the buildings behind his servant. "You want to fight the magus in the museum, right? Let's go. I'll train with you. I'll be your soldier. I'm sorry... I... I will kill him for you if that's what you want. Just... We need to cooperate, if we want to get the grail..." Rider sighed. Magi were all the same, always this way, afraid of being put on the spot, too scared of losing. "That'll have to do. It's alright, Master, I don't expect you to meekly obey my every command and run into the museum with a sword to stab the man inside it. You need time to recover, so stay here. I'll go in and get rid of him. I'll get in from above so you can send a familiar to watch from the distance if you wish. I don't expect it to take too long." Rider gave a curt laugh and patted his master on the back, taking back his sword and heading to his horse, but his master held him. "I... Want to come, Rider. Shouldn't a soldier pick his own sword?" Rider looked back at him and smiled. "No, not really, but if you are ready to show some fighting spirit, hop on."

His collection was now complete. After a few visits to the university and one prominent private collector, Ognyan was satisfied. He had visited the city of Kaunas once before, and the museum was, for him, its crown jewel, and that's where he gathered his treasures, adding to the museum's already vast assortment of items associated with its namesake, Vytautas the Great. As soon as he knew there was to be a war in Kaunas, Ognyan Petrov Kaloyanchev knew he'd win. He didn't care whether it was a real Holy Grail War or a false one, nor did he have a particular wish for the grail, but he was determined to win, driven by his spite towards the Magic Association. He needed to prove how useless the Clock Tower was. Maybe he should've gone to one of the other branches, but his father never wanted him mingling with the northerners or the alchemists, so he was sent off. The first of his line to go, in fact. He hated it, but his grandfather had passed away and his father didn't know what he was doing. In the Tower, Ognyan liked to think he had not learned anything besides irrelevant theory. He didn't want to know everything about how magic worked, about how prana behaved, about the root. Everything he knew, his grandfather had taught him, in the traditional ways. He knew how to cast his spells and he knew the mythical lore behind it, and that's all that mattered.

However, without his time at the Tower, Ognyan would never had known about the Grail War, or servants, or ley lines, and he might never had visited Kaunas. The war museum was his favourite place in the city not just because of its historic importance, but also because it was built over a ley line. His grandfather had taught him about magical places where your magecraft would be stronger, but he couldn't explain why it happened. Now Ognyan knew how to best use his magical energy, and planned on drawing from the multiple catalysts and the ley line to summon his servant. In the Holy Grail War, seven servants, heroic spirits drawn from the Throne of Heroes in many forms and placed, through the Holy Grail, into containers for seven classes. If a servant in summoned in their homeland or in a place where their legend had more impact, they'll be able to get to levels of strength close to the original spirits in the Throne of Heroes, for the servants are just representations of these. Ognyan's plan was to summon a Rider class servant very particular to the land, in the very museum named after him, within the country in which he is revered as a national hero: Grand Duke Vytautas the Great of Lithuania.

The museums itself might be catalyst enough, but Ognyan had to be sure no one else would summon this servant, of course. Those Magic Association dogs will bring their own catalysts, but someone else could try to summon a hero of the land. He just had to do it first, and on that night, he made his summoning circle.He had no intention to talk to the supervisor; the Holy Church was no better than the Association. He would summon his servant, the strongest possible in this land, and he would destroy all other participants. He would speak to the supervisor after winning, just to get the Grail, and then he would leave that dog and his Grail too. He just had to win.

Looking at his beautiful collection of catalysts and his summoning circle, Ognyan grinned. This war would be a piece of cake. Then a horse crashed through the roof.

In truth, Guillaume Hubert was still numb from being berated and humiliated by his servant. He thought about his tears and about his phobia. He thought about what it meant to be a soldier for his servant. He was still afraid, but he decided to fight. Rider was right, if they were to win the grail, he had to fihgt. Anything that came. He would face his fears. But wait... Did Rider really mean this when he said he'd enter from above? He had hopped onto the back of his servant's mount and was holding on tight as it galloped across the rooftop. This building faced the back of the museum, and it seemed like that was really the plan. The horse leapt across the sky. In fact, Hubert hadn't thought of how they'd wound up in that rooftop, but for a servant, crossing this distance was nothing, much less for a Rider in his mount. Hubert held his scream and braced for impact. Like a missile the horse targeted the area they'd thought the potential master was in. And it crashed through.

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" He could not stifle that scream as debris flew all over and they fell. Looking down he saw a scruffy man looking up confused from his summoning circle. He was about to summon his servant and they needed to be fast. The horse crashed still standing across from the man, on the other side of the magic circle. The man got up and opened his arms with a grin. "Ha! I didn't even have to finish! Wait..."

"Master, go find yourself a sword." Rider asked and he got down from the horse and ran to the nearest sword. The hall was full of assorted relics belonging to the namesake of the museum, which that man intended to use as catalysts. He was probably crazy, he couldn't possibly have expected to go unnoticed. Hubert grabbed a shortsword adorned with jewels and lifted it with both hands. He could use this. It looked well maintained and it was polished, maybe it was a replica. He turned to face their enemy.

"You're not my servant! How dare you disrupt my summoning, dog of the magic association!? Dori v ada, pederast!" The man screamed at them, and Rider charged. His paramerion aimed at the man's chest, it should cut through with the force of the charge and the sheer magical power. But, as fast as the servant was, his sword didn't reach that man. After screaming his insults, he beat his fist against his chest, in what seemed to Hubert a tribal, feral motion, but he hadn't seen what was on the man's chest. A pendant. Gem magic, then. The pendant exploded and waves of fire were sent across the hall in all directions. Hubert moved to hide behind a pillar, but noticed the pillars were all falling. The man was bringing the room down with him. That explosion and that fire. There could be no way he had survived, but he was trying to kill a master with him, at least. That pendant stored enough mana to destroy the entire museum, so he couldn't just run now. Hubert turned to the flames and held up his sword. It felt heavy, and the room was hot. He screamed at the flames and focused his magical energy on the sword. Maybe he could blast them away.

"You idiot!" Hubert felt himself be pulled up. His servant had grabbed him from behind and thrown him on the horse. As a typhoon of flames engulfed the museum, Rider took them out through the roof and landed safely in the yard that surrounded the museum. "My words haven't been misinterpreted this horribly since I took down Bardas' rebellion!" His words were tough, but, this time, Rider was smiling. "Maybe you can make a good soldier after all!" Hubert laughed, but he remembered something that brought him out of his moment. This was the consequence of holding a ritual in such a large city. The agents of the magic association were ready to cover the participation of magi in the fire, but a succession of disasters was sure to befall Kaunas before the war was over. It would be suspicious. Not enough to hinder the cover up, but suspicious. "We need to check the damage before we go, Rider." His servant nodded and rode them back to the center of the blast.

"Govno, govno, govno!" He had to use his trump card on the first encounter with a servant and now grandpa's pendant was gone, along with all his catalysts. Charred. Burnt. By his little flame. Of course, he was unscathed, the rune that his grandfather had carved in his back guaranteed so. His very identity guaranteed so. Fire was his blood, and his body, and his mind. Thanks to grandpa. Ognyan sighed and searched for his pack of cigarettes in his jacket, but before he could take it out, he froze. The rubble was moving. The explosion and fire had left the museum with a huge hole in the middle, no walls, no roof, only rubble. His catalysts were burnt and buried and he didn't finish his summoning ritual. Maybe he really didn't have to. Out of the rubble came a man. He shook off the rubble and laughed. "Now this! This is a grand summoning! What's all this destruction? Oh, you, come here, are you my Master?"

The man had a prominent, aquiline nose, and an equally prominent beard, and upon his head was an open helm, coated with gold and with a black feather pointing up from it. His piercing eyes reflected the fire and for a moment they seemed to be red. Maybe that would fit. It would even be a good contrast to that other servant's blue irises. But Ognyan's own eyes couldn't linger on the man's face. They were drawn elsewhere. On the man's belt, there was a human skull. He remembered his childhood and the stories his grandfather would tell him, of a time long gone. He blinked. The man wasn't wearing armor, but a deep red caftan brocaded in purple and yellow. On the other side of his belt, some sort of mace of morningstar. Standing atop the rubble was his servant. Not Vytautas the Great, not a servant related to this land, but one related to his own. He thanked grandpa again, for teaching him of his people.

"So, are you? We don't have all day." The servant brought him out of his blissful thoughts. "I am, my Khan." He laughed. His servant laughed as well. "How pleasant! You are of my people! Of course you are! And you're fighting my enemies! That's the only reason I answered your summons, but I must admit, that offer of jewelry was fit for my Empire. Now, Master, here they come, so bask in the glory of my abilities! Bask in the glory of Servant Avenger, the Emperor of Bulgars, Krum of house Dulo, as I slay another roman on this day!" And they were coming. That Rider came with his master mounted behind him, and the master seemed shocked to see him there. He knew they had survived, but the reverse was not true. Amusing. Truly amusing. Ognyan took the pack out of his jacket and grabbed himself a cigarette. Lighting it with his finger, he put the cigarette in his mouth and breathed. "No. Let us leave this battle for another day, my Khan. I've already used my trump card, and if that's a greek general, we can make him angry just by escaping. You know more than anyone, Avenger, that wars don't end in a single battle." The word Avenger felt strange in his mouth. That was a special class, but he didn’t really care. He had summoned a great servant, and he was happy they could crush the magic association together.

Avenger laughed heartily and put his hands on his waist. "Very well, Master, we can leave them to quarrel by themselves and reap the fruits later to achieve victory. Let's go." Ognyan moved towards his servant and with a gesture sent a new wave of flames upon the rubble, obscuring the field of vision with fire and dust. The other servant could still sense his, but the master would be unable to see a thing, and that was their objective. They heard the master pleading for his servant to stop and think, and the servant shouting, but all Ognyan could make out of it was curses. Nodding to his servant, they ran before the other one could pursue.

#cycle I #day one #I actually wrote part of this like 6 months ago #yes the name change is intentional #no it has no function it's just me being extra #yes it'll happen every cycle

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