#its about the fact he saw the law fail. he saw the police fail. he saw BATMAN fail.

[dukeofthomas]

Why Jason Todd doesn't believe in Batman's idea of ''justice'', or his way of doing things.

[psalm22-6]

This review of the 1935 Les Miserables staring Fredric March and Charles Laughton comes to you hot of the presses of the La Habra Star. La Habra had a population of 2,000 and a couple hundred around this time. Anyways the column in question is Jazzers which seems to have printed jokes and fun facts mostly and really whatever the author wanted. So one week he printed a review of Les Miserables and apparently no one cared so he considered quitting.  12 July 1935:

NEW JOKE: (I get this from an eastern paper so don't blame me.) Two worms were at work in dead earnest. Poor Ernest. *** BRAIN TEASER: (Still following the trail of the little animals). On a post six feet high is a worm which crawls up two feet every day and slips back one foot every night. How many days will it take it to reach the top? *** I SELDOM WRITE a movie review, for reasons too numerous to mention, but I am taking a shot (that's good film language and not slang) at Twentieth Century's production of Les Miserables  — a picture unique in several ways. It is no small job to condense so lengthy a story and carry the main thread through even a long film, but it was done in pretty good fashion, on the whole.   Les Miserables in the film lives up to its name, for most of the folks in it are miserable most of the time. And that's one of the ways in which it is unique as a movie. It is six or seven thousand feet of sorrow, sadness and trouble, without a single foot of what the writers call “comedy relief." There isn't a belly laugh in it — or any other kind. It is practically impossible even to squeeze out a smile. In this the producers have acted with unusual restraint. As a rule they force in some funny stuff because they think the audience will insist on it, no matter how out of place it may be. 

No brains are necessary to understand what the story is about. This of course is not out of the ordinary. The action is simple and direct, as were the actions of people in the days when Vic Hugo's characters were living. The misery of the poor and criminal classes was taken for granted, and instead of reaching for graft and blackmail the police inspectors committed suicide when they failed in their duty. Nowadays we coddle the former and condone the latter, all on the ground that it is up to everybody to get what he can while the getting is good. This of course takes more brains. 

But the scenarists made a long story short, and so must I. Les Miserables is a film among films in that it has two leading men and no heroine. At least it is entirely outside the rule to make a heroine of a character which appears in only part of the story. Hence the females in this story must be ruled out, except to note that so far as they have parts they are well done. But the two leading men are there all the time — and how! It is hard to choose between Frederic March as Jean Valjean and Charles Laughton as the cop who exemplifies the inexorable majesty of the law — as it then was. Both really are actors, and not just movie stars That two could be teamed up in one film without getting in each other’s way is a real achievement. 

In the matter of general setting not many stories have been better filmed than Les Miserables. I never saw a convict galley nor a French home, but in this picture they appear as they do in my imagination. The scenes in the sewers of Paris are so realistic you can smell them

It is not likely that many people care for the type of movie which Les Miserables makes but those who have read  — and reread —  this immortal story by Victor Hugo will not want to miss it. It certainly is not entertainment in the usual sense. There isn't a fan dance nor a Mammy song in it but for high class acting and stark realism It is hard to beat.

Yet it would be a great thing if everybody could see this picture and carry home from it the one important truth — Life is to give, not to take. There is just one serious criticism I have of this film — and it goes for a good many others. I can’t see the sense in the “incidental music,” the off-stage strains which are supposed to heighten the dramatic intensity and hop up the feelings of the audience. If little Nell is sobbing her way down a country road through a snow storm it doesn't seem fitting to me that the Biltmore orchestra should be heard playing in the near distance, and when Jean Valjean sloshed his way through the muck of the sewers I am practically certain the strains of the cathedral organ were not within hearing. It's about as sensible as salting a pretzel.

Amazing. Most people love salted pretzels. I have never heard that complaint of a movie before but it’s fascinating.  19 July 1935

NEVER HEARD A YIP about my movie review of Les Miserables last week. It was a new stunt for this col'm and I listened carefuly for any reverberating echoes from it. Must be everybody would rather have the dope from Liberty. RESPONSES to anything appearing here are not frequent unless I pan something or make a crack that sounds a little profane. Then I get jumped on. Whenever I say something nice, no comeback. Maybe that's the reason I distribute more kicks than kisses.

I understand the frustration of creating content and getting zero response 26 July 1935

LA HABRA STAR WILL SUSPEND PUBLICATION

This Week’s Issue Will Be Last for Local Paper Suppose the above headline was at the top of a news column instead of where it is? Suppose it were actually true, instead of being a "Jazzer?" Would it make any difference to you or to the community? I confess that to me the question is sometimes an interesting subject for thought. Have you ever given it any consideration? Probably not. The tendency is to take a newspaper for granted. The same as a great many other things. We accept the fact that they are here as being proof that they will always be here. 

I am not going into the subject any further. I am not going to argue the case. I just wonder sometimes how many really care, but I mention the matter in this way at this time in the hope that it may stir up a little thought and consideration. That's all. 

ALONG THIS LINE I would like to report the interest with which I received a few reactions to remarks made last week about that “movie review” of Les Miserables, I heard nothing about it until I said I had heard nothing. Then I heard from several. Sure, I know — we often think about handing out a bouquet but just forget to do it. l NO REACTIONS either from the brain teaser offered the same week about the worm which started crawling up a post six feet high, going up two feet every day and slipping hack one foot every night. The answer is it will take him five days to reach the top.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Lend Me Your Ears By R. D. BOUCHETTE,” Vancouver Sun. March 2, 1931. Page 6. --- There's Still Hope - Artistry Re-born -  Sir Charles Chaplin - Trouble in Zion --- Those who fall to discern the tiniest gleam of hope for humanity, might pay a visit to the formidable grey fortress, which is the British Columbia penitentiary, on New Westminster's outskirts.

There, under the kindly but watchful eyes of Col. C. E. Edgett, the warden, is going on a process of human rehabilitation, of which we know very little. We, for the most part, are ignorant of it because we cease to interest ourselves in a man once he becomes a number. We forget that if the penitentiary fails to cure that man of his anti-social aliment we shall pay for it.

Warden Edgett's mission is not so much to punish the criminal, as to make him a law-abiding citizen. He does not, however, speak of it as his mission. He says it is the purpose of the Canadian penitentiary system.

***

Facts speak for them selves, and how well Warden Edgett is succeeding in his work is revealed in the figures. 

During his two years as "premier" of this limbo state, Col. Edgett has discharged 200 men from New Westminster. Two of them are again behind the highly-polished steel bars. Another two are in Oakalla. Four more are doing time in the United States. 

This means that more than 90 per cent have reformed their lives. We know that they have reformed, for if they still followed lives of violence, sooner or later they would be in the hands of the police.

***

Out at New Westminster penitentiary, last week, I saw George Paradise, serving a three-year term for selling narcotic drugs. 

I remember speaking to Paradise two years ago at police headquarters, just after he had "beaten the rap" on a drug-possession charge. 

"Why don't you quit taking dope?" someone asked him.

"Quit dope?" Paradise laughed bitterly. "You may take a child from its mother. but never will you take the love of that stuff from me."

Paradise was almost boasting. Less than a year later, in Assize Court, he asked the court to send him to the penitentiary so that he might be cured of his lust for drugs.

Paradise was a sign painter and artist. When I saw him at the prison last week he was in the church, paint brush in hand. He had completed a mural design, a background to the altar. He looked quite happy. He has gained about 20 pounds in weight. His eyes are clear.

He glanced proudly at his work. "I haven't done anything like that for 20 years," he said.

Then he showed me toys he had fashioned with his hands. There was a mechanical turtle, an elephant which raised and lowered its trunk when it was moved, several reproductions of Spanish galleons. Last Christmas Paradise made scores of children happy with the toys he constructed.

***

Paradise, now, does not feel that he wishes to retain the love of narcotics. He has never been more content in his life.

"How are things outside?" he asked me.

I said they were "not so good," there was a lot of unemployment.

"I guess I ain't missing much," said he.

In England they are talking about knighting Charlie Chaplin, the prince of pantomime. It strikes me as being a pretty good idea. Surely, if a man deserves a knighthood for brewing beer or distilling whisky or manufacturing soap, it is not unfitting to reward him for creating Iaughter. Compared to some knights I know, Chaplin could handle an earldom very nicely.

***

Mark Hellinger has story for those who "like their irony served piping hot." It is about a Jewish real estate man who, in boom years, built three very white apartment houses in New York.

Along came the depression and our real estate man found himself with three very large and very white elephants camped upon his bank account.

The sad part of it is that he cannot live in any of the apartments himself. They are restricted against Jews.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

This is gonna be the hottest take I’ve written in a long while, so here we go:

“Falcon and the Winter Soldier” was the more conservative-leaning show when compared to “The Punisher”

It feels weird writing that out since, at the surface level, it feels like it should be the other way around. Remember back in 2017 when there was a lot of pushback on the Punisher TV series because it was seen as right-wing propaganda? A lot of people just saw “ex-military guy with machine gun” and immediately made the connection to the alt-right movement. It didn’t help that the alt-right loved the Punisher symbolism, especially the military and police.

Meanwhile, there’s “Falcon and the Winter Soldier”, which technically should’ve been the more anti-conservative series. MCU Steve Rogers was set up as being anti-authoritarian and we were getting a black Captain America, something that closed-minded people would classify as “woke-pandering”. 

But if you go past that and actually look at both series’ content, it feels like there’s a clear divide between what people are seeing at the surface level versus what actually happens in the shows.

Yes, the Punisher features an ex-military guy who uses guns because he wants to take the law into his own hands. But the show also features:

1) The military industrial complex as the main villain of season 1 and Christian extremism as the main villain of season 2

2) The whole show was centered on criticism of the Iraq War/War on Terror and how the military treats its veterans. In fact, the criticism wasn’t even subtle since the main plot of season 1 was about how the corrupt CIA officer used the Iraq War for his own corrupt goals. Just switch out “drugs” with “oil” in the plot and you’ll get a good chunk of the anti-Bush criticisms during his presidency. (EDIT: I know he served in Afghanistan as well, I just wanted to focus on Iraq)

3)  The secondary villain of season 1 was a far-right domestic terrorist (they even called him out as a terrorist). The secondary villain of season 2 was an Aryan Brotherhood white supremacist. 

4) When you think about it, the Punisher only exists because he’s anti-U.S. government. He feels that the systems of America have failed the people by letting criminals and corruption run rampant, so he’s taking matters into his own hands. I’m just saying, it’s weird to characterize the Punisher as a conservative-friendly character when the character is basically saying, “Fuck America and all of its corruption”.

Now, let’s take a look at “Falcon and the Winter Soldier”:

1) Very pro-U.S. military. I mean, that’s a given since Sam and Bucky served in the military, but there’s a clear sense of jingoism throughout the series. Especially the opening fight scene. 

2) Tried to redeem John Walker at the end (or at least, tried to show that he’s not that bad of a guy). Remember, Walker is supposed to be the dark, far-right version of Captain America. They deliberately changed that for the show for...reasons. It’s like Marvel was skittish to actually portray John like how he is in the comics. Or at least, they were skittish to portray a version of Captain America as a villain.

3) Despite all the bad things America did, the series’ ending message was that we could do better as a nation. That even though our history is unclean, we can do better because that’s what America does. Just saying, the show’s message that America is still awesome even with its flaws and wrongdoing feels like a conservative talking point. 

4) The villains are anti-government anarchists that want a world without borders. Unlike Walker, they don’t get a chance at redemption. Out of all the Captain America villains that the series could’ve gone with, they went with the explicitly left-wing one.

5) Probably the most anti-American moment in the series would be Isaiah Bradley’s story since that was a direct criticism of the U.S. military. But everything turns out okay because Sam put Isaiah’s statue in the museum. No one is held accountable because that would mean the U.S. government would have to face accountability and we can’t have that in our patriotic TV series.

Okay, I’ll stop there. Just as a disclaimer, I’m not trying to change anyone’s minds about these shows, nor am I trying to say you should like or hate them. I just wanted to discuss how these shows and characters are perceived by the fandom.

[demonic-ungaikyo-dragon]

Continuing the hc for tealerland, i want to go for a character i recently grew interested in

(Also LONG post warning.)

TEAL (aka the dad of this dysfunctional family)

He sadly has no image or design shown so its up to interpratation i guess.

● being the founder, he is a very responsible man. Also was very busy. Keyword was.

● he alongside david did not know the animatronic were alive, so it was a big shock for him when he escaped to the underground facility.

● while he did not like their designs at first, he overtime got used to them. Also fun fact it was his idea to add flamethrowers to the dergs.

●while david was the more mechanical of the two, teal was more of a programmer, but he still has some mechanical abilities. (He made deterrent after all)

● his relationship with david before everything was actually very good. Today he looks back at the past and cries about what has transpired over the years.

● he was the one who devided to scrap all the previous caharcter concepts mischievous included. Dont worry tho, teal didnt know that this would traumatise them so they eventually comes to terms with them.

● speaking of, the animatronics at first were about to shoo him away but since they actually dont have bad blood they decided to let him stay.

● he slowly becomes the fatherly figure for most of them. He actually finds them funny and they cheer him up.

● in case you have not noticed, he is depressed about all of this. The fact his brother is a murderer and that he indirectly ruined a lot of lives.

● he finds tealer and frill as a cute couple and alongside willow annoy them for fun.

● frill almost killed him one time but he slowly started respecting teal because of something he did.

The angst is coming so expect dark stuff again.

● when he found out about what happened, he went straight to the crime scene and was shook about what he saw.

● he saw tealer having a panic attack as frill was removing a corpse from inside his belly.

● he was confused as all hell but something told him that he had to act and fast.

● so he helped a surprised frill remove the body and immedietly went to calm tealer down.

● since he has had experiences with panic attacks in the past, he hoped the skills he developed could work on an animatronic dragon, and luckily it did.

● he asked tealer and frill to act shut down so he could fix this mess and explain the police, and so they did.

● it was a very chaotic process for him. His brother was a criminal, his bussiness was failing, and he still could not believe his creations were alive.

● after everything calmed down, he decided to investigate the animatronics.

● at first, it was something difficult to process. I mean who would not be scared of living automotons. But later on they grew on him and he said screw it, might aswell adopt them.

● he saw tealer as a friend in the start, but soon grew close to the point were tealer one day called him dad. He almost cried cause even if he is an animatronic derg, teal always wanted a son. (Teal to david aboit the animatronics: dont speak to me or my childrem ever again.)

● frill on the other hand was wary at first, but soon learned to respect him. Teal was the one to teach frill ways to calm tealer during a panic attack so when he could not help, frill could. Also frill sees teal as his father in law cause frill wants to marry tealer. No joke frill has talked about marrying tealer with teal. And teal, alongside the others ships the two so hard, but is trying to process how can he marry his mechanical dragon son.

● him and willow are like partners in crime. He and willow trick tealer and frill into adorable situations like making them hug, or manipulate frill to say good things about tealer infront of everyone. Despite teal being a adult, he likes to cause trouble sometimes.

● He also was the one to vreat tacey's character concept, so he has sentimental value over tacey. Of course, he spoils her as if he was her father too.

● he feels bad for t lure cuase he knows he is controlled by david and knows he actually wishes to be with the others. This made him twice as angry towards his brother.

● but the most guilt he felt was about mischivous. He practically traumatise a child for years and he did not know it. Everytime he looks at mischievous he just feels guilty. He has tried to make amends with him and has worked. While he is not a master mechanic like his brother, he has been slowly fixing mischievous up. He currently is working on his eyes.

● deterrent is his actual son in a way. He did creat him after all. His relationship with him is the tired father with a chaotic son thatdoes not let him sleep and must drink coffe 24/7 to tolerate him. But he still loves him, even if he is a handful.

● and david.... to say he is hurt is the understatement of the year. He deep down in his heart still loves him, but all of the events that transpired have made him feel hurt. He wanted to believe david was not a murderer but his actions are saying otherwise. Therefore, teal has decided to confront this beast.

(@waluigis-massive-fucking-tits @that-gay-crow @ing just in case)

[purplellamanator]

So, I'm sorry I don't really know what to call this and did not give it a name- but, this is a product heavily inspired by these head-canon's created and posted by @detectivegeekshin! Please check them out if you haven't already! (if you're following me though you probably already did :D) This is insanely long though and I hope ya'll like it! Sorry @detectivegeekshin that it took me so long! I've been working on this for more than two months I think- so again, sorry!!! Thank you for allowing me to use your ideas to make, what was supposed to be a drabble, story and I hope I did your head-canon's justice! Please excuse my grammar mistakes! I tried my best to clean it up! Thank you again!

Read below the cut for the story :)

Stealing wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use. He didn't consider himself to be a thief. Was it really even stealing if he was taking it from someone it didn't actually belong to? Shinichi didn't think so.

And it wasn't about giving the wealth back to the poor. He wouldn't necessarily call himself Robin Hood either. It was about returning something to its rightful place; to the rightful owner.

It was wrong. All of it. It went against the very morals he himself created to follow when he first decided he'd be the greatest detective of the era. Stealing was wrong no matter if it was stealing something that was already stolen. It was the law and if the law was followed, then it would work out correctly in the end either way.

But that way of thinking wasn't always true. He realized that the longer he worked in this business and the more experience he gathered. It would be a nice world to live in when the law could fix everything. And unfortunately he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that world existed anymore.

The first time he did it, it had gone against every fiber of his being. The mental crisis he thrusted his entire being into had sidelined him for weeks. So ashamed, Shinichi couldn't bring himself to work on another case. What right did he have? To expose criminals for killing? For kidnapping? For stealing?

He had no right. He was no better than those criminals. Because that was what he was now- a criminal.

The stress and just anxiety that this put him under- Shinichi considered dropping his dream of being a detective. His morals and guilt had been tearing him apart inside.

Until he turned on the news and remembered why he did what he did.

A woman was crying. They were tears of joy and happiness. And she was thankful. Thankful that the heirloom that had gone missing for decades had miraculously found its place back on her dresser. That she had no idea who or how it happened but she was grateful to whomever had given her this.

And that was when Shinichi was reminded of what finally pushed him to this. What made him crack.

He was a detective and he had done his job. He found the precious necklace that had eluded every private eye hired before him. He located it and all they had to do was retrieve it and return it back where it belonged.

But the police couldn't. They needed warrants and that took time. Time they did not have enough of. It would be sold once more on the black market and disappear likely for another decade before they were even served.

The adrenaline that had coursed through him when he finally decided what he would do. He had never felt more satisfied. There had been no disguises; no gimmicks. Just himself. His own face and his own brain. And they still hadn't caught him. It had been easy. So much easier than waiting on the courts.

After that day he saw the news, Shinichi had walked with his head held higher than any other day. He didn't know why exactly. It wasn't like anybody else besides him knew what he had done. No one but him was aware that the woman got that necklace back because of his own actions. Yet hearing people congratulate and whisper about how amazing the mystery was made him smug.

Shinichi told himself it would be a one time thing. Seeing that woman from before distraught and sobbing that her family's prized possession would likely never be returned in her lifetime- it had done something to him. It made him act. Even though he usually did so well detaching himself emotionally from his cases, that one alone had gotten to him. But he'd do better next time. Even if the outcome would be bittersweet and leave him feeling like he failed, he could not do it again. No matter who the victim was or if they cried.

But he didn't stick to that clearly because he did it again a month later, and then soon after that, and again after that.

His excuse each time- he had done so well not getting caught before. What could it hurt to do it again? It was easier. It was faster. With his genius he was sure he would get away with it no matter how many times he tried this. He couldn't be caught. He couldn't be beat. He was just too . . good at it.

Until he wasn't.

He had gotten too cocky; too arrogant. He should've stopped while he was ahead. He had gotten away with it so many times and yet he kept pushing it. And he pushed the boundaries each time. He got more and more careless than the last. And now he was stuck explaining to the last person he ever wanted to find out, why he was parading around as some law abiding detective when he was really a thief.

In the midst of his newly found hobby, Ran- one of his best friends, had realized he was not acting the same as usual. Shinichi didn't allow her to join him to certain cases anymore. He would be secretive about where he was going afterwards as well as if she had somehow already been there, he had even told her to straight up leave.

He should've known that Ran would notice something sooner. It wasn't like him to ever hide things from her and it definitely was not normal for him to tell her to leave a crime scene- unless it was a rather dangerous one. Cases that had to do with robbery didn't normally fall under that. Those were the cases he'd usually rather her witness. She didn't like anything with too much gore and like any normal person, she got scared if she even saw a corpse.

But each time he told her to leave or that she shouldn't follow him. Most of the time he did lie and say it was because he worried it would turn violent. Other times he didn't give a reason. And he definitely should've noticed her suspicion because he normally loved having her witness his cases and deductions. He liked impressing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice in time that he was actually worrying her. His sudden change was concerning to her and she ended up following him when he said the Inspector had called and asked for him to come by the station.

Shinichi never went to the station. There had never been a call. Instead, donning his change of clothes, he took a train almost a full hour out till he reached his actual destination.

When he said he had started pushing the boundaries, he had meant it. No longer did his thefts remain with cases within the Japanese Police. He started digging for unresolved cases in the black markets.

The entire time Ran had been tailing him. She had followed him the entire way and he hadn't noticed a single thing, which he didn't know if he should be annoyed by or impressed.

When he had almost been shot however and Ran's foot suddenly came down on the guards head, he settled on being impressed. Because though he was furious she had followed him into such a dangerous underground location, she had saved his ass. And it didn't help that Ran was aware of that fact.

She hadn't pressured him for an explanation. Shinichi thought she would yell at him and demand to know what he was doing and why. Ran hadn't done any of that. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his lookout as he finished what he originally set out to do.

Ran kept her thoughts to herself at first. It had made him nervous considering he was expecting her anger. When he hadn't gotten it, he didn't know what to expect now. Her moral compass was just as strong as his had been. When she realized what he was doing- and she definitely already had, he could only assume it'd upset her. Why wouldn't it? At this point he was no better than-

"Are you Kaito Kid?"

Kaito Kid. Obviously he knew who she was talking about. And it was actually insulting and ticked him off.

What he did took more skill. He wasn't some magic freak with a couple fog machines and pet doves. He had no disguise. If Shinichi wanted something, he walked in there and took it. With his own face.

With a stony expression, he denied the accusation. As far as he was concerned, he always thought of the Phantom Thief as, exactly that, a thief. Truthfully, he hadn't run into the magician too much after his new found discovery. And at the thought he realized that it must mean Kid wasn't after just any treasure. He must've been looking for something in particular which reminded him that he didn't know the guy's actual motive behind his crimes. Maybe like him, he realized, Kid might have a valid reason for turning to crime.

When he started sympathizing with a criminal however he noticed how far in his own crimes he actually was.

Ran took his denial in stride. She didn't seem all that surprised by his response. She clearly didn't actually think he was the Phantom Thief. But oddly enough, she didn't really ask for an explanation. If he wasn't doing this as Kid, then why was he doing it? She didn't claim to want to know.

Oddly enough, that annoyed him as well. It should be a good thing she wasn't drilling him for answers. She was just accepting what he was doing and not going to stop him.

"You're that vigilante thief they're talking about all over the news. . . aren't you? The Night Baron?"

Night Baron? Out of all the things, that's what they decided to go with? And though it was exactly what he was, the word vigilante left a bad taste in his mouth.

This accusation was different however. Unlike the Phantom Thief one, she uttered this one with confidence. If he denied this, Ran would not believe him. There was no point in trying anyway when she had literally caught him in the act.

It took him aback a little that she had caught on so easily. The Night Baron wasn't as common in the news. He hadn't been doing this nearly as long as the other well known thief. It made him question if she'd been contemplating this for awhile. How long had she suspected him? And how could she not say this without any ounce of anger?

"Well. . . I have faith in you, Shinichi," she finally said when he asked. "I know you and I know you wouldn't be doing this unless you had a good reason or you thought it was right."

"And what you're doing is right. The Night Baron helps people."

The amount of trust she put in his character made him feel warm inside. It was embarrassing but that sentiment made the corners of his eyes almost prickle. Shinichi hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted to hear those words. He thought he had come to terms with his guilt. But clearly he had not if hearing Ran say that almost made him get choked up.

Ran didn't think less of him for losing his morals. She didn't look at him in disgust. She approved of it. She encouraged him for doing it. No explanation given yet and she had already determined that what he did, he did for good. He had no desire or intention for personal gain. And he had never felt like someone had ever seen him so clearly before.

Again, she didn't push for his actual reasonings. Based off her earlier assumptions, she likely already knew them. But though it was clear she didn't think it, he didn't want to risk her assuming he was some mindless criminal. Without her prompting, he gave his explanation.

The law wasn't enough sometimes. And though it was sad and went against what he engrained in his own head, this was the best and more efficient option. After all, if you want something done correctly, do it yourself then, right?

Ran hadn't so much as flinched. And it was staggering.

"You're not upset?" He couldn't help the disbelieving tone he used. It was almost a little concerning she wasn't more opposed to this.

Ran shrugged. "I am a little. Clearly you've been doing this by yourself and lying to me when you could've just told me."

Tell her? Why would he want to tell her?

"Shinichi, you were almost shot. Clearly you need help doing this."

Absolutely not.

That had been his initial reaction. If he ever for some reason got caught, it would likely drag her down with him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But after sleeping on it for a quite a few days, and also that he couldn't sneak off anymore once Ran realized what he was going, Shinichi began to see the possible perks to working with a partner. And not just any partner but Ran specifically.

She was smart. He was definitely the mastermind behind all of their plans but that was not to say Ran couldn't come up with a plan of her own. Her insight gave another perspective that sometimes, he never would've thought of. If she didn't like an idea, she said it. If she thought they should do something else, she told him. Shinichi wasn't perfect. He missed things sometimes. It was good to have her pair of eyes as well.

It was just as helpful to have her brute strength as well. He assumed most would find it somewhat emasculating to be physically weaker than their female counterpart. Shinichi didn't mind at all. He was strong as well but admittedly, there were things Ran could do that he could not. Like denting a wall with her bare fist.

With Ran added into the picture, it came with even more possibilities. And perks.

The one person he didn't want to have to lie to, he didn't have to anymore. And they worked close.

He liked that too.

Ran was a good asset and made his job a whole lot easier. He really took note of that fact when instead of climbing through an air duct to sneak into some party, Ran had somehow managed to get them clearance through the front door.

And that wasn't nearly all she was able to do.

Ran is gorgeous. It was the bitter sweet conclusion he came to when Ran easily had the host eating out of the palm of her hand. The guy probably would've just given her the painting they were after if she simply asked properly.

The thought annoyed him.

He always knew he had a thing for Ran. He was pretty sure everybody knew that fact besides the girl herself. He had known her for a long time now. They had been friends since the first year of college. Their friend group was also the same and their parents both had ties to the Japanese Police Force. And she was stunning to look at. He'd argue it would be impossible for him not to take a liking to his friend.

He never told her though. He didn't know if she felt the same and after this partnership they just started, he wasn't sure it was worth the risk. If he tried a move and it scared her off, he'd have to revert to working alone. And he didn't want to do that for more reasons than one.

Like he acknowledged before, Ran was beautiful. He was not alone in that belief. It made it all the more difficult to witness guys flaunt their wealth and good looks in her face. He didn't want to see that. They didn't actually know her. Ran was his friend for three years. They didn't deserve her especially when clearly all they wanted was to undress her. And they were arguably worse criminals than half the people he got locked up.

So it was all instinct when he finally cracked. Some guy whom they didn't know was trying to dance with Ran. And he wasn't just 'trying'. He was touching and caressing her arm. Gritting his teeth, Shinichi couldn't help himself when he wrapped an arm around Ran's waist and tugged her back into his chest.

"I thought the first dance was mine, wife."

It was stupid. He had no idea why he allowed that to slip out. If he didn't have better control of his emotions he probably would've turned flustered all the way to his toes.

Ran's eyes bulged. "W-wife?!"

Honestly, her surprise couldn't be helped. He had totally blindsided her. It was his fault. And he definitely didn't have a valid enough reason to interfere like he did.

Sensing something was off between the couple, the other guy raised a brow as he eyed the arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You don't recognize your own husband?"

Shinichi wanted to bash his own head against the wall. This was why they weren't supposed to go against the plan. Posing as her husband had definitely not been part of what they discussed earlier. It caused too many questions that they did not prepare beforehand to answer-

A hand suddenly slid up and brushed against his cheek softly. "We're not married just yet, Shin-chan. Only engaged so it's a bit too soon to be saying that," she chastised with a giggle; her acting on point.

Beyond his control, he could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks. The intimate way she touched his face wasn't helping either. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her eyes, meeting her softened gaze.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't see the ring."

The ring?

Ring?

A ring!

They didn't even have rings to back up their story-!

It was at that point Shinichi didn't know if the guy was actually apologetic for hitting on a married woman or suspicious that they weren't actually a couple that was engaged.

"No, it's our fault really," Ran said sheepishly. "This dummy here didn't get me the right ring size so it's sadly getting resized."

Shinichi was a little insulted. He would've most definitely did his research to get her the correct ring size before proposing.

After the guy walked away, they both found their way to the dance floor with all the other couples and joined in the slow sway. If asked why, he'd argue it was to back up their story even more. Deep down though, Shinichi knew better.

Ran was oddly silent however.

"Shin-chan?" He grumbled with forced annoyance. At the time it had completely caught him off guard. The nickname that his mother used for him. At the time he figured it was payback for the confusion he started. It didn't mean he hated the name any less.

But just as easily, she quipped back, "Wife?" She raised a brow as if to drive her point and he immediately shut his mouth.

It was definitely payback.

Ran never did question why he stepped in that night. They were on a job after all and he deduced that likely she had already forgotten what he'd done. Besides the little hiccup, every thing else went according to plan. Everything else stayed the same.

Until their next job. And the job after that. And the one after that.

Because that one night when they had taken the painting; it had started a trend of sorts. A trend where one or the either would claim to be in a relationship with the other. Before it had started with a dance which at the time, neither had been prepared for and both were too awkward to acknowledge properly. But the next time they are holding hands and eventually it becomes normal for Ran to hug his arm to her chest or for him to hold her waist.

Each time is a mystery to them. Neither have any idea what they'll be. It was a constant cycle of being married, to dating, to two already taken spouses in a very wanton and promiscuous love affair. And the stories they came up with on the spot were more extravagant and extra than the last. And they were never prepared before hand. Suddenly it was a game for them. How deep could they take this? What tale could they come up with this time? It was getting out hand. The stories were getting more detailed each time, he almost believed the lies himself.

Shinichi didn't usually snap back out of it until he saw her again in class the next day. They weren't childhood friends that had been together since preschool days. He hadn't dramatically confessed his love in London while the Big Ben chimed behind them. They hadn't shared a first kiss at Kiyomizu-dera on a school trip to Kyoto.

And it didn't stop there. If they weren't already talking to each other, they would always be touching in some form. Whether that was by a hand resting against his thigh or his fingers dragging dangerously low on her lower back.

It was a very small line they were tiptoeing against and the blatant flirting they joined in with was starting to toy with his emotions. It was one thing to elaborate or give false truths to further their disguises. It was another entirely to grope each other secretly. There was no witness to convince. Who were they showing off for other than each other?

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act like nothing was going on- or at least nothing was going on with his end. He was stressed and constantly filled with anxiety that at some point these lies would eventually bleed into their actual daily lives. Because when he once again had to suppress the urge to grab her hand as they walked from class, he was realizing once again who they actually were.

They were Shinichi and Ran. A Shinichi and Ran that had met three years ago in a shared psychology class. A Shinichi and Ran that were best friends and nothing more. A Shinichi that had been mooning after the same girl since he first met her. A Ran that as far as he could tell, didn't share that same sentiment.

This whole thing was a dangerous idea where his emotions were involved. And due to his argument that they didn't need to stop this 'charade' or whatever was the proper term to call it, it wasn't a matter of if this would affect their personal lives. It was a matter of when.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him that cracked.

It had been an honest mistake- one Shinichi didn't exactly mind. They had been in a study session with Sonoko and Nakamichi. It was a hot day and they had all taken refuge in the campus library. And to also help combat the heat, Shinichi had a water bottle that he was casually sipping on. One that Ran had easily grabbed from his hands to take a swig out of.

Shinichi didn't mind. He really didn't and truthfully, he probably wouldn't of even noticed if it weren't for the fact all their friends froze to gap at her incredulously. She had done this to him numerous times on a job. Asking for a sip of his champagne or simply stealing a bite of food off his plate. It had been a shock the first time but it in the moment he knew that was likely her intention to get a rise out of him. Now however, he was positive that she had fell into that act by mistake. She didn't mean anything by it, he was sure- not like she used to.

Nakamichi whom had been in the process of reading out his answer for one of the questions on the study guide had trailed off slowly, almost completely floored by what he had witnessed. Sonoko looked like she would fall out of her seat.

It was almost laughable that Ran didn't realize the stares that were being drilled into her. Attempting to keep his face neutral, he nudged his knee into hers gently and it was only at that she finally began to realize her mistake.

Features turning a scorching red, she quickly forced the water back into his hands. "I-I'm so sorry!" she burst. "I have no idea why I did that! I don't know what I was thinking," she sputtered. "I-it was just so hot and I-I-"

She was drowning; sinking further into her panic and he tried to save her.

"Ran, it's okay," he said calmly even though on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as she was. "It's hot outside and I've known you forever. We can share a water bottle." Shinichi was trying to play it cool. For the sake of their image with their friends.

Of course it wouldn't be enough to deter the teases they were sure to receive from their friends but what else could he do? He couldn't very well say she grabbed his by mistake. It had literally been in his hand. He had just drank out of it and been going to sip out of it again when she grabbed it. And he definitely couldn't say that she did this to him all the time when pretending to be his wife.

There was absolutely nothing they could say to excuse this. The whole scene had been way too casual even for the two of them. Sonoko, whom had made numerous jokes that they were actually a married couple, looked like this was too much for even her to comprehend. Because whether she knew he had a thing for Ran or not, anything she said before this had been harmless taunts.

"How long has then been going?!" Sonoko having determined that the study session was now over, pointed between them furiously. And that wasn't just an exaggeration. Sonoko looked irritated. Not because they were seemingly dating but because she had both missed and not been informed when it happened.

But there was nothing to tell. Nothing was going on- or rather nothing in the way she was thinking. No matter how many times they both told her that, the Suzuki heiress did not look convinced. Not even Nakamichi seemed to trust it but unlike the other girl, he thankfully kept his accusations shut till they were in private.

"Look- I'm not saying I'm mad or anything. It just sucks a little that you didn't tell me," his friend finally admitted when they left the two girls at the library.

Neither had been worried or surprised when Sonoko said they would catch up with them later. Shinichi felt bad for abandoning Ran but he knew that Sonoko would want to grill her for answers. It would've been more humiliating for both of them to be present for that.

Nakamichi wasn't nearly as difficult as Suzuki to deal with but Shinichi still found himself rolling his eyes. "I already told you," he said tiredly. "Ran and I are not dating." Shinichi wasn't sure how many more times he would have to say just that. He didn't even know if there was any other way to word what he was trying to get through his friend's apparently thick skull.

Suddenly his friend stopping walking, forcing him to do the same. For some reason his eyes were wide and a slight red was forming on his cheeks. "Oh."

Oh? Shinichi raised a confused brow. "What?"

"Well- I just never thought Ran-chan would ever. . . " Nakamichi trailed off, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. "She just doesn't seem the type, you know?"

Huh?

"Her . . type?"

And then suddenly his friend looked concerned, waving his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey- I'm not judging! Whatever you wanna call it- I support it!"

Suddenly Shinichi was freezing himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked aggravatedly.

"You and Ran-chan aren't dating but you're. . . you know," Nakamichi said pointedly. "You still could've told me though. I'm not going to tell anybody. Have some faith man. We've know each other since grade school."

Shinichi's eyes bulged and all the blood rushed to his face as understanding finally hit him.

"Ran and I aren't dating and we're not doing t-that either!" he exploded.

oOo

Without Ran even needing to tell him, Shinichi knew Sonoko must've given her a hard time afterwards. Nakamichi probably wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with but it still had been an uncomfortable conversation nonetheless.

His friend actually thought that he and Ran were having . . . sex on the side.

He wouldn't be so lucky.

Shinichi was flushing at the thought alone. It had been so humiliating.

But what made it worse however was when Ran actually apologized to him again in private. She reiterated once more that she couldn't understand what she had been thinking in the moment. She also suggested that maybe it would be best to stop pretending. It was mixing them up in real life and confusing for both of them.

A small part of him was crushed by her suggestion no matter how logical it was. It hurt.

Shinichi rejected the idea. He agreed that maybe they could tone it down some. They didn't need to be a couple every time they did a job. But he also argued that sometimes the act actually did make their job easier. And deep down there was another reason he didn't want to share.

Because if they gave up their little charade, then he knew what that would mean. There was no logical circumstance that would allow him to touch her and flirt with her like when they were on a job. And he desperately didn't want to lose that. Even if their act escalated each time.

But he knew Ran had a point.

Their next job was once again at another extravagant and fancy party. And this time, they both arrived alone. The two had snuck in separately and at different times as well. And throughout the entire night, neither acknowledged the other. They acted like perfect strangers.

This time the showcase was a pearl. A pearl that would surprisingly 'go missing' by the end of the night. And like every other job they did, he had a plan that they had gone over in detail numerous times. One that didn't work out at all considering the whole night had been derailed by the sudden appearance of the Phantom Thief.

The moment that magician's calling card appeared, Shinichi knew they'd have to make adjustments to their plan and they needed to do it now. If KID followed and stuck by the time on his announcement, then the pearl they were both after would be long gone by the time they got anywhere near it.

They had to improvise which was difficult without them even talking to each other. Besides that factor added in, throwing Kid into the mix only derailed everything further. If they wanted any hope of beating Kid, then they had to act right then.

To be honest, it wasn't very surprising they were almost caught. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to continue with his intentions of stealing the pearl. Just Kaito Kid being there caused too much of a scene. Any calling card that arrived meant it would soon be followed by police and a camera crew. The Phantom Thief brought media attention wherever he went. It was dumb of him to not just give the pearl to the thief. Especially cause-

Kaito Kid had mentioned the Night Baron in his calling card. He had made it clear he was aware that he wasn't the only thief present with their sights set on the pearl. And he had mentioned the other thief by name.

That gave a lot of insight Shinichi wasn't even sure Kid meant to give. That calling card told the detective that either Kid knew what types of jobs the Night Baron targeted or worse- that he knew the true identity of the Night Baron. And if the latter was correct, then it meant that someone had been watching him for a long time. Someone was probably watching him right now. And if that were the case, Kid knew his entire plan.

The right thing to do would be to pull back. To grab Ran and bail. The plans he had made were done without taking Kaito Kid into account. But if the other thief really had been watching him, then those plans could be tossed out a window. Nothing was worth getting both him and Ran caught and possibly arrested. The logical conclusion was to escape while they could.

Shinichi was too prideful for that. And stubborn. This wasn't his first run-in with the Moonlight Thief. Shinichi had dealt with him quite a few times when helping Inspector Nakamouri or Inspector Meguire. This would however be the first time he ran into the guy when he was on one of his own little side jobs.

And he was not prepared. Fighting against him as a detective had numerous resources. He had the Japanese Police Force at his disposal. As well as when he was working his real job- he did not need to hide his own face. Not only could he be recognized by the police, he had also made a name as a criminal. If somehow his face was linked to the scene of all those crimes- he was done for.

But like the idiot he was, he couldn't help but take this as a challenge. The fact Kaito Kid mentioned him by name in his calling card told him that the thief knew he was there and also he didn't really care nor was he stressed by that.

It wasn't like him to panic. But in the end, that was what he'd done. His actions had been panicked and rushed and honestly- thoughtless. Ran hadn't scolded him at all through the night; probably thinking now wasn't the time when they were running from police officers. Shinichi could just feel her disapproval however. He knew the moment they were out of here and alone at his house, he'd receive the yelling of a lifetime.

Getting an earful would be the least of his worries if they couldn't find a way out of this building. All of the usual exit points had been closed or cut off due to Kid's warning for his appearance. The guy was a showoff and frustrating. Shinichi knew it was all part of the guy's show to leave people wondering just how he made his escape.

Shinichi wanted to throttle him.

Because of that hack of a magician, he'd get caught. Because of him, Ran would get in trouble with him. The two of them had been running nonstop and even if they had the layout of the mansion memorized, it wouldn't help with guards standing at every single entrance and exit- which is what they had been doing the moment Shinichi triggered their alarm.

The panic and just straight anxiety that he felt in that moment, could not be paralleled to anything else in his life. He knew they were running out of options. Usually he was the one with all the plans but he couldn't even gather his thoughts to try to formulate one. All he could think was how much of a sad excuse for a thief, a detective, and a friend he was-

No. If there was one thing he would do, it was to save Ran. He got Ran involved in this and he would not allow her to go down with him. Already he had given up on finding escape. Now all he was trying to do was deduce just how he was going to explain Ran's side of things. He'd force her to pose as his hostage if he had to. He would not allow her to be ruined from this-

Abruptly his thoughts caught off when Ran very suddenly gripped his fingers tightly. When he glanced over in her direction, he found she was already looking at him. They were both running as fast as they could trying to put more and more distance between them and the heavy footfalls coming from behind them. Unlike him however, she did not appear scared or stressed. In fact, while he was internally having a meltdown, Ran shot him a quick but soft smile.

And suddenly she was pushing ahead of him; her fingers still clenching his tightly as she tugged him behind her.

She was taking them further in though, he noticed incredulously. In fact she was taking them towards the rooms. Shinichi had to stare into the back of her head, as if wondering if she'd lost her mind. There was no exit to the outside this far in. Nothing but windows which they already realized was not going to be an option. There would be officers outside each window waiting for them. They would not be able to get far.

Just when he had been about to reprimand her himself, he found himself being tugged to the side again. Ran's goal hadn't been the window. She had pulled him into one of the numerous bedrooms that lined the hall. Which he guessed would be nice for shock value but again, he found himself wanting to question her. Sure hiding in a room would be unexpected at first but he highly doubted they would fail to check these rooms. All it would do is buy them some time before they were eventually captured. And a simple search would prove that he was in possession of the pearl that was currently missing.

They had put quite a bit of distance between them and the task force that was chasing them. They would have a few minutes at most. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with those few minutes.

"Ran, what the hell?" he spun on her only for his eyes to grow bigger even more. He had turned to find her turning on the table lamp and he really thought she had lost it. They were trying to hide. They should be turning lights out, he wanted to yell as he watched her come back over to him. Anything he was meaning to say was gone when she was suddenly pulling him again and he only watched in confusion as she seemed to position him just in front of the table she had walked to.

His eyes bulged when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it around her ribs. And when she placed the other very firmly onto her rear, he turned into a sputtering mess.

"R-Ran . . . " The way he said her name this time was unlike before. It was smaller he knew but it was definitely nervous as well. By this point he was less concerned about the police chasing them than he was about his partner's behavior. He had given up on talking when suddenly she was pressing her palm flat against his chest. He followed the movement with his eyes until her other hand caressed his cheek forcing him to look directly at her.

She wasn't saying anything. And even if he wanted to, she didn't give him enough time to try. Palm on his chest scrunching into a fist, all he could do was gasp when suddenly he was tugged down into a kiss.

He froze. His eyes had bulged even more he was sure and he felt his features flood red- redder than they had been. It was hard for him to comprehend what exactly was happening right now. Ran hadn't given him a chance to process anything and the moment her lips touched his, his mind went blank. He was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing at this point.

She must've felt how frozen he was because suddenly she was pushing forward more, her mouth pressing insistently against his own. As if yelling at him to do something. And that was all he needed.

Taking notice that her eyes were shut, he did the same before he leaned into her willingly. His hand that she had pressed against her rear- that he had left there mostly out of shock, grabbed her and pressed her against him more firmly. The movement made her gasp and going off her response, his other hand rose to bury itself in her hair where he angled her face to fit more comfortably against his.

The kiss was slow but it didn't mean it was any less sensuous. Tongues were brushing against each other, their breath intermingling as it panted against the other's lips. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly why Ran felt the need to kiss him now, but as far as first kisses could go- he wasn't complaining. Was a reason really necessary?

No. He didn't think so.

Was he going to ask her why she was suddenly tugging his shirt from where it was neatly tucked into his pants?

Maybe later- definitely not now though. He didn't question it. He didn't question hearing what sounded like a door opening before being slammed shut. He didn't want to. If Ran wasn't, then why should he? All he knew in that moment was that something that he had been waiting for- something he had been wanting, was finally happening and he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get an explanation of why.

But even without wasting his time, it still wasn't enough. All too soon he felt Ran begin to pull away. Her hands released their tight grip on his shirt and hair and came to rest smoothly against his chest. Shinichi felt the retreat. She was moving away from him. And the realization made him panic.

No. He felt his mind shout. That wasn't enough. It's not enough.

Surging forward, just after their lips had completely separated, he found them slamming against hers once more. This time because of him. And when she gasped into his mouth he just couldn't help himself. Arms gripping her firmly, he turned to the side forcing her into the wall just beside the shelf she had him pressed against. His fingers had never left her hair and instead his fingers buried deeper into the long strands. If the grip was painful, Ran didn't say. If anything, it sounded like she liked it with the way she released a moan into his mouth.

Shinichi had her pressed into the wall, the hand that wasn't angling her face closer to his, gripping the bare skin of her thigh. In the moment, he didn't care to process or wonder just how his hand got through the slit of her dress. All he wanted to do was just get closer and closer and as close as he could get, he concluded as he forced her leg to stay raised against his hip. When it got to the point they needed a second to just breathe, he had his lips slanting across the smooth skin of her neck. From this position he could feel her panting heavily against his ear. He could feel her desperately trying to draw in air to her lungs. He also felt when she stiffened.

When he had practically picked her up, forcing her into the wall, Ran's hands had both slid to the front of his shirt. When she gripped the lapels of his suit coat she had used force to tug his mouth closer to her neck. Suddenly however, he felt that grip slacken.

"I t-think. . . I think they're gone now. . "

That was like a wake up call.

His own common sense kicking in, he remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who was chasing them. Gently, he released his hold of her thigh and set her to rest on her own feet. Taking a glance at her he noticed she was redder than he was.

"I-I'm sorry. I knew they would find us either way so I-I . . improvised. . . "

Improvised?

Improvised.

Still sort of stuck in some dazed haze, it took him longer than it should to understand what exactly she meant.

Improvised, he repeated again in his thoughts.

That was what she kissed him for? Shinichi could remember discreetly at some point the door opening and then slamming shut shortly after. At the time he hadn't really cared that much to question it. He had been way too focused and interested in something else.

Something else that she 'improvised'.

The bitter thought left the same taste is his mouth.

Frowning, and face turning a darker shade, he took a step back.

"Right . . . " he agreed swallowing hard.

Of course they couldn't stay there any longer than they already had. There was always the possibility that the police would realize their mistake and return. If they were smart, they shouldn't be here for if or when that happens. There was no time to just stand there awkwardly. Though that was what he proceeded to do.

The reminder she gave for why they had hid in this room in the first place, did nothing for him. He should've been like her; scrambling to fix their appearance to look somewhat normal. But he couldn't be bothered. Shinichi watched as she hurriedly straightened her dress and finally, began the process of cleaning himself up. His motions were slow and sluggish however compared to her quick and hastened ones. It was only after a few moments of him pulling his tie forward that he realized his shirt was untucked.

"Does my hair look okay?"

All at once he was distracted. Again. Pausing with his shirt, and glancing back at her. Did her hair look okay?

"Yes."

Belatedly he realized what she actually meant. Was her hair fixed? Did she look normal? And still looking at the hair that he knew she had styled meticulously beforehand, it was tangled and frizzed. The long strands were very obviously out of place.

He startled a little when suddenly Ran was just before him, brushing her fingers through his hair. He was taller than her so she was on her toes, stretching to reach his height. He acknowledged that but seemed to struggle to realize maybe he should lean down to make it easier for her. The thought didn't occur to him. Not at first anyway. Once the thought hit that maybe she was trying to kiss him again, he found himself bending down. Her face was close to his again and he caught the scent of whatever it was she was wearing.

The sudden movement clearly caught her off guard and his eyes that had apparently been focused on her mouth watched as she didn't pull away, but instead rested flat on her feet again. Her hands were still in his hear however and he had to take a moment to wonder if she was going to use that to grab him again.

"Shinichi! What are you doing?" she practically hissed the question; her movements still hurried. "You look like a mess. Hurry up!"

And with a blushing face he realized that no, she wasn't trying to kiss him again. She was trying to fix his hair because it looked ridiculous. And he was just standing there, taking his time. Like an idiot.

Hearing noises in the distance however, they had run out of time. Immediately whatever stupor he had been in, broke and not willing to use anymore time, they bolted.

Shinichi was sure they looked like quite the pair. There was no way people would look at them and think they hadn't done something. He guessed that meant the plan worked but it didn't make it any less humiliating having to push through snickering guests that 'just knew what they'd been up to'.

They hadn't been up to anything however. Just 'improvising'.

And all he had said in response was, 'right'.

Shinichi hated how that one word was all he said. It gave the impression that they were on the same page. And if that was all that kiss was to her, then clearly they weren't. In the moment he hadn't the brain to make the connection between her actions and the situation they had been stuck in.

He wasn't surprised he didn't get her intentions to begin with. Unlike her, it never crossed his mind to use that as a . . disguise? And the fact that they didn't think exactly alike is what saved them.

But he was still mad.

It was laughable and dramatic and infuriating. Because he couldn't do or say anything in response and he knew it. How could he be angry? How could he complain if her plan actually worked? Yeah, sure his pride was hurt and he was a little embarrassed when he realized they were not on the same page. But he could admit, hurt feelings were easier to deal with than jail time.

It didn't mean he couldn't feel the sting still.

Shinichi knew why it hurt so much. He knew the real reason. Because for once he actually believed that Ran saw him as he saw her. Not just best friends or partners in crime but maybe something . . . more.

They had met years prior in a shared class on psychology. And he didn't want to say it was love at first sight but- it was definitely a lasting first impression.

He knew from early on that he held interest there. An interest that was built upon by the constant joint study sessions and realization that they also held numerous moral similarities. They were just pursuing them in different ways. She wanted to be a lawyer and he wanted to be a detective. Quite often he'd make the joke that they'd be an unstoppable pair in law enforcement; jokes that deep down held a hint of seriousness that, at the time, he hoped she didn't notice.

The truth was much harder to swallow. It had come like a bucket of ice, cold water dumped over his head. It felt like a slap to his face. A stone, hard slap of reality. His subtly backfired or rather- his lack of action did. Because again, how could he be mad when he never made his desires known?

He was a real coward. He never could bring himself to confess no matter how often the thought occurred to him. The excuse being- Ran had never gave any indication that she felt the same. Shinichi didn't want to ruin the strong bond they already had; their friendship that they had built on for years. It just wasn't worth the risk when he couldn't be confident in her answer nor her reaction.

But then she kissed him. His whole mind had shut down. And when they separated, possibilities flooded him. He could confess or was a confession really necessary at this point? Ran liked him. Ran wanted him.

That's what he first thought. So he responded. He had kissed her back. And if that already wasn't an obvious display of his feelings, he had acted like a totally catatonic fool directly afterwards.

Once they knew they were in the clear, Ran had become oddly silent. And distanced. She wouldn't meet his gaze and her cheeks were still a suspicious amount of pink. She seemed extremely fidgety to be beside him and the moment they said their goodbyes for the night, she had bolted.

Shinichi didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. An apology? Maybe even a confrontation over his obvious infatuation with her? But she had said nothing. And she had fled like the police were still chasing them.

Maybe what made it worse was that he couldn't be sure if it was because she had kissed him or, that she realized how he saw her and she panicked. Neither meant well for him. Both gave the impression that kissing him made her uncomfortable.

Shinichi wanted to punch something.

And his shirt still needed to be tucked in.

He got more than halfway of doing that before he remembered he was already home and began asking himself why exactly he was fixing it now. He had no need to do it now and grumbling irritatedly to himself, he instead began taking it off.

They didn't take on another job for almost an entire month after that. Waiting in between gigs wasn't unusual but not planning the next however, was. Normally by this point, he'd already be casing their next event. By this time he would've already consulted Ran.

He had done neither.

Instead, he went to school as normal and also continued helping Inspector Meguire when prompted. Nothing appeared different except the absence of their little side cases.

And that Ran was avoiding him.

It wouldn't of been as bad if it wasn't for their friends noticing that something was off. It also didn't help that even the media was pointing out the unusually long hiatus for the Night Baron.

"So about this . . . thing . . that's not really a thing with Mouri-san. . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

And there was his other issue. Shinichi had long given up trying to explain to Nakamichi that absolutely nothing romantic was going on between him and Ran. Now, after their earlier predicament, it became even more difficult to deny. His friend was convinced that the two were simply trying to keep it under wraps. That for some reason they didn't want anybody to know they were seeing each other. Nakamichi had already switched to asking why exactly Mouri-san wanted to hide things because he was confident the two were already together and that there was no way Shinichi would be the one wanting to hide it.

Grudgingly, Shinichi wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that last comment. Deeming that Nakamichi was correct and there was absolutely no way he'd want to hide the fact they were dating, Shinichi decided to keep his mouth shut. If they were dating, he wouldn't want to hide it. If they were dating, he'd walk home with her instead of his dork of a friend. If they were dating, he wouldn't have to explain why she suddenly decided to drink from his drink at a group study session. If they were dating, it would've been his idea to kiss the life out of her while running from the police. If they were dating-

Hand flying to his head, he could feel the strands of his hair getting scrunched between his fingers. And just as quickly as the tangent had started in his head, it stopped. As if the only thing keeping it all together was his hand against his head.

What was he thinking? He mentally hissed at himself as his teeth clenched. Entertaining Nakamichi's story. He was spiraling in his own thoughts and elaborating an idea that had not, and by the looks of it, would not be happening. Ran and him hadn't even spoken properly to each other since the last job. If they did, it was curt, in passing, or in the presence of someone else. Meaning it was a guarantee they could not discuss anything that had happened- her actions nor his seemingly obvious to him confession. Which all he could do was assume that was her intention.

He wanted to pull his hair from his scalp, it was so frustrating. Was he supposed to take this as a rejection? Was he not worth the time to say she wasn't interested directly to his face? Or did she think he would not accept her refusal? Did she think that low of him? He wouldn't lie- he liked her a lot. The rejection would hurt but they could at least be friends still. She didn't need to run from him as if he had the plague. Shinichi swore he could see the panic in her face anytime she happened to stumble upon him unexpectedly.

The space that stretched between them seemed to be widening. And worried the gap would become much too big to mend, Shinichi did the only thing he could do.

He found them another job.

At first, his intentions had been different. He had wanted to use this as a way to get her to talk to him; to address what exactly happened between them almost a month ago. If it was on a job, that was a guarantee they would have a moment alone. But at the realization of how that would probably make Ran feel- he paused. He would be cornering her. And that realization made him wince internally.

Shinichi didn't want Ran to feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't talk to him anymore just because she didn't want him the same way. They could be friends still. He wanted that more than anything. The rest, he could learn to deal with. He was well aware more than anybody about how kind Ran was. Her silence was most likely her way of sparing his feelings and easing her guilt about not returning his affections. She didn't need to feel guilt though. She wasn't obligated to feel any certain type of way. Ran didn't owe him anything regardless of how much he wanted it.

If he had considered it, he knew Ran must've come to the same conclusion- that he was trying to force her to talk. It would likely explain why she took her time responding to his invitation of working again. Her response had come in the middle of the night when he must've been dead asleep. Shinichi had only noticed the text message after turning his alarm off that morning.

Shinichi hated to think it, but Ran's presence- in a roundabout way- likely did more harm than good for his well being. He had already gotten a little risker the more jobs he took on. He acted rash and with no regard for his own safety after a certain point. Once Ran's presence in the form of an accomplice was assured, the possibilities became endless. And so did the risk. If Ran hadn't been there backing him, he surely would've been done for numerous times. He knew that. But that was also why he even attempted those risks.

Having their first real interaction since their last job being another mission, was a mistake. Not addressing what had happened between them before starting this, was a mistake. He acknowledged that when Ran still wouldn't even look at him directly. She definitely made sure to keep her distance as well.

Shinichi had already decided before meeting up that he would not be mentioning 'that job'. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be fair of him to try that. Clearly however, Ran hadn't grasped that yet. Any moment he would be about to start talking, she would tense. As if preparing herself for the inevitable.

That meant she knew this could've been a perfect moment for him to question her. She knew that, yet she came anyway. Not even the possible awkward conversation of unrequited feelings would she leave him to fend for himself. She had started joining him on these jobs to defend him in the first place. Whether she didn't want him the same or not, it was still nice to know that at least that wouldn't change.

He just wished that she would relax. There was no way for him to tell her he wouldn't talk about it without actually bringing it up. By the time she might've understood that, they had already put their 'plan' into motion. If it could even be called that. How could they plan when neither could even look the other in the face let alone have a conversation?

This whole night was a bad idea. Shinichi had the feeling throughout the night and as things progressed, it only got worse. Why would he even think this was a good idea? Any person with half a brain would've just dodged the bullet and asked to have the conversation. He had already come to terms in his head that clearly she didn't want him that way. He knew that. Her avoidance spoke louder than anything she could ever tell him. Yet he also knew, hearing it aloud and in the open provided a confirmation her silence didn't give.

Shinichi needed to hear it; aloud. Regardless if deep down he already knew. He needed it. If anything for his piece of mind and for closure. He had pined for her for a long time. Moving on would not be easy. It would take time. But the process wouldn't begin until she gave her refusal outright.

Having all of this sit on him, literally weighing down on his mind, just before a job was dumb. Her presence was only making it more difficult as was her refusal to even properly acknowledge him. He wasn't doing much better, he'd admit. But he had tried to bridge that gap and Ran wasn't reaching from her end.

How Ran felt was everything to him. Shinichi didn't want his presence to be uncomfortable for her. He was doing everything- even down to the plan- to show it was okay. She didn't have to feel the same way. It was fine. He would be fine.

Where as normally they would walk in as a couple when it came to balls and galas, he decided they could work this one a little more separately. Shinichi was doing everything he could possibly think of, to show her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And after the revelation a month ago, pretending to be his wife would surely do that.

Ran only got more tense. And that only made him more nervous. Neither a good sign when communication and teamwork was the most important aspect to be able to successfully carry out these jobs. That should've been the biggest indicator that once again, this was a bad idea.

He messed up. He knew that. Even in the moment when he forcibly shoved that guy away from her, he knew he was the one at fault. There was no reason for his actions. No logical one anyway. The only thing that powered him in the moment was jealousy. It fueled and burned through him stronger than anything he could remember. Nothing had ever cut off his thought process so quickly. Not even the time Ran kissed him.

But this was not what he'd been expecting when Ran said she would 'make an opening for him'. The sensation that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was similar to being sick. That was the feeling he got when watching Ran disappear into a hallway with the 'owner' of this gem.

He didn't trust it. Not the look in the guy's eye nor the impatient tug he seemed to give Ran. Shinichi didn't trust any of it. And no, it had nothing to do with his jealousy. It was for Ran's safety that he followed them; that instead of going the clear way his partner indicated, that he trailed behind the two out of sight.

Nothing to do with his personal emotions at all.

Peeking around the corner to find his partner pushed against a door about to be kissed however was, again, nothing he had been expecting. Yet the reaction was instantaneous.

This anger he felt was different. This was a different kind of rage that reared its head forward. A nasty emotion he had never experienced so strongly. With a mixture of fury, possessiveness, and just about anything in-between, before his brain could even catch up and actually think- he was already across the hall and shoving the man roughly.

Ran seemed as surprised as the guy. Her eyes had bulged when suddenly the arms that had been bracing her weight disappeared. She stumbled in her satin dress but Shinichi was too furious to help her straighten. His attention was too focused on the creep that was still on the floor, mostly in shock. Shinichi had pushed him hard. Probably too hard if it was able to knock the guy off his feet but in the moment, he could care less. There was nothing that could be said to him then that would make him believe this guy didn't deserve it. He had been touching Ran. That was enough for him.

After finally realizing what just happened, the guy's eyes shot up to look at him angrily. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly what made the guy do it. He honestly thought he just initiated a fist brawl. But likely taking one look at the simple fury on his face, the guy stood up while wiping the blood off his bottom lip; the anger gone from his eyes and instead a smirk that was anything but happy. With a promise to get security for the both of them, the guy exited the hall from where they had come.

They couldn't let him go; not if they wanted their plan to succeed. Both of them had to know that. But neither of them did a thing till he was long out of sight.

It was Ran that reacted first. It was his turn to be shoved as she pushed her hands against his chest angrily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him furiously. And from that alone he realized the shove was more out of panicked frustration than any real anger.

Shinichi was fine with that. He was sure he had enough anger for the both of them.

"No- what are you doing?" His voice was incredulous just like his face.

"I thought my job. You said to get close to him. You told me to make sure he was distracted."

"I didn't mean like that."

Ran sighed as if she were exhausted. "Well what did you mean, Shinichi?"

"I-I don't know- just anything except making out with him," he snapped and in his frustration he couldn't help but stutter.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

It was clear to him then before she even spoke that Ran understood he was mad. He knew that when her eyes softened towards him. But from her question, she clearly couldn't understand why he was mad. And if possible that was making him angrier. Because from his last sentence alone, it should be obvious why he was upset. If they took away everything that had happened between them a month ago, with his words alone that he spoke tonight, her answer was still right in front of her. He wasn't understanding why she just wasn't getting it.

"Y-you can't do something like that!"

"And why can't I? I swear you don't make any sense to me, Shinichi. I was only doing what I thought you wanted."

She was only trying to make his job easier for him. And if he weren't so heated he'd recognize that what she had been trying to do really would've made the job easier. That disgusting lowlife would've been so distracted. But to achieve that in that way was unacceptable to him.

"Why would I want you to kiss him?"

"Why would you not?" she countered.

His eyes blazed. "Are you actually serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You're mad." The way she stated it- it wasn't a question. It was a fact. And he was mad. He was so furious it was almost insane how personally he had taken this. Because this wasn't acting for him. It had never been. He never had to pretend to feel more for her. This was something he wanted. Not just on jobs but all the time. Him and Ran together. Him and Ran being a couple.

And he knew he had no right to be so upset. She never gave any indication that this would happen outside of their side jobs. He was the one that was turning it into something it wasn't meant to be- a reality. But she could at least do him the courtesy of not acting clueless. He had clearly kissed her that night without any other intention except that he simply wanted to. She knew that. She wouldn't of avoided him in their regular daily lives if that weren't the case.

He needed to step back. It was too soon to come back to this when clearly he wasn't over it. There wouldn't be another job until he could get over his feelings for her. And if that never happened, so be it. He was done with this conversation.

Shaking his head, Shinichi went to walk away. "Forget it."

Ran being quicker than him however, shot forward and gripped his arm. "How am I supposed to 'forget it'? You're obviously angry. Just tell me why." And for the first time in this conversation, he saw that she was actually beginning to get mad.

He had already decided what he would do though and instead he just shook his head again. "If you don't get it on your own, then it doesn't matter," he responded calmly.

Ran obviously rejected that idea.

"It matters to me! I played my part in your plan. I was going to do something I didn't even want to do-"

He wanted to argue that he never forced her to join him as the Night Baron. But it didn't matter now because this would be the last time.

"-so you could grab a stupid rock-"

That rock could sell for over 500,000 yen, he wanted to say but instead he remained stoic.

"-and you just storm in here like a jealous boyfriend-"

He was jealous. But he wasn't going to engage in this any further.

"-which we're not together-"

They're not. He knew that. He would work on it.

"-which you made that perfectly clear in your plan-"

He knew they weren't together. That's why he switched up their usual plan-

...

"What?!"

Shinichi was actually stunned into silence. There wasn't a lot that could do that for him either. But to bring up the plan that he made specifically to make her comfortable and complain about it, had him even more aggravated. She seemed like she wanted to continue but he wasn't about to allow that to slide.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally cut her off, not even paying attention to what she was currently saying. His earlier idea to just let this whole thing go, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Probably thinking she said too much, her tone got quiet and her face went pink.

Regardless of her obvious embarrassment however, she didn't try to take back what she said. "There's other ways to say you're not interested besides pushing me to the side for some side act. You could've told me how you felt. I wouldn't of left you to do this alone," she said with that hint of frustration still there.

But Shinichi was still stuck. Because now nothing was making sense to him. After all this time and he thought he finally figured out why Ran was avoiding him before, what she was saying now completely contradicted all of that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he flat out asked.

A frown marred her features. "You know what we usually do as these kinds of parties. You know what . . acts work better here. And you changed that on purpose," she accused.

"You avoided me!" was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

"Only because I didn't know what to do!" she raised her voice with a completely flustered face now.

"How about talking to me-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Immediately their shouting was cut off; both of them jerking in shock before going on the defensive. They were still on a job after all. But once they saw just who it was that had the audacity to interrupt their argument, they both froze with widened eyes and slackened jaws.

Kaito Kid didn't seem to care if he was intruding or not. For some reason, he looked frustrated as he stormed out behind a pillar.

"Are you two actually kidding me?" And the other pair watched as he came closer without a care.

"Some of us are actually trying to work. I've literally been sitting alone in that room waiting and neither of you came to do anything. I could've bailed an hour ago while you guys were griping during a heist. Not to mention the guy I had to knock unconscious on my way over here," he jabbed a thumb behind him and lo and behold the guy he had shoved to the ground was currently leaning unconscious against the far wall. But the Phantom Thief didn't seem to be through.

"Which- how has this not been resolved yet?"

Shinichi and Ran both flushed scarlet and taking that as his answer, Kid threw his hands up in frustration.

"I swear there has been absolutely no progression between the two of you since the first time I saw you. Do you have any idea how obnoxious  that is for a bystander?"

"She avoided you because she kissed you and actually liked it," he pointed a finger at Ran who flushed brighter at his words before turning it to Shinichi next who went pale, "and he changed the plan because he thought you avoiding him meant you didn't like it!"

"Do you see how easy that was? Is there anything that you two do not understand?"

At their mutual silence, Kaitou Kid shook his head aggravatedly before spinning around, his cape billowing out behind him. "And you guys are my rivals?" he grumbled bitterly under his breath. "You guys better have this sorted out before next time."

Even long after Kid left, the two remained standing there completely frozen. They both were staring at where the thief had made his exit but neither seemed to want to break the silence first. Neither wanted to be the first to confirm or deny the accusations thrown at them.

Instead, realizing that they were still very much in the open with an unconscious body and that this job was definitely ruined, Shinichi turned a glance towards Ran. Unsurprisingly she was avoiding looking at him again and her face was still insanely red. But his was too and if it were for the same reason. . . then they had a lot to discuss.

"Do-" he started before cutting himself off. He wasn't sure if now was the right time when they were standing in the hall of one of their heists after having a shouting match. But when her eyes flit up to his quickly at the sound of his voice and saw they looked hopeful, he didn't care.

"Do you want to get something to eat. . . with me?" And then he cleared his throat realizing how informal that sounded and that he better be clear because obviously she didn't go off hints.

"Would like you to go out to dinner with me?"

Her face still impossibly red, she bit her lip before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

oOo

Months later, Shinichi found himself at another gala. It was the usual type of party he hated attending but he'd have to admit as his eyes followed one figure across the room, this one wasn't too bad.

Until it got closer and certain features became clearer and he realized this was actually the worst one yet.

"Ah, Shin-chan, did you see they have a chocolate fountain?" she beamed excitedly before reaching for him.

Immediately he side stepped the arm that went to link with his own making 'Ran' pout at him. Shinichi didn't care until he noticed the confused stare from across him. He had stated this was his fiancé after all and froze when he caught their puzzled looks.

This time, when she went to link her arm with his, grudgingly, he allowed it. No matter if he was cringing so badly inside, his teeth gnashing together irately. "Yes. I saw," he bit out. And barely getting the whole statement out, his champagne flute he held was snatched from his other hand that wasn't currently wrapped around 'Ran'.

Shinichi had to grit his teeth as he watched her swallow practically the whole thing in one gulp. With a cheeky grin he was sure was meant to seem mockingly innocent considering the actual Ran had done this numerous times before, she held the glass out to him with the one measly sip that was left in it as an offering.

"Keep it," he bit out still trying to keep his cool. There were people still watching them after all. And shrugging she downed the rest of it.

Probably noticing the peculiar tension between the two, it was quite easy to dismiss themselves. And as soon as they were somewhere deemed a little private, Shinichi turned angrily.

"Where is she?"

And mocking him further, violet eyes widened comically as brows scrunched in faux confusion. "Where is who?"

The voice was exact. Purely feminine and a complete copy.

But it wasn't real. It was fake and he could tell.

Or rather he noticed the obvious struggle for Kid to keep his knees bent. It was quite embarrassing and even more infuriating to notice that his girlfriend whom he had been trying to ogle had in fact not actually been his girlfriend. But in actuality a hack of a magician doing his best to maintain the height and appearance of a young woman.

More mortified that he believed for a moment this was his girlfriend enough to ogle her, Shinichi had no patience. Fully irritated now, he gripped Kid's arm furiously while snapping in a harsh whisper, "Where is Ran?" The grip only loosened when he realized they were still technically in the open and he forced a small grin at anybody that looked their way.

"Calm down," the still female voice tried to wave him off. "We had a small issue so we had to do a little switch."

Doing his best to ignore that this wasn't actually Ran though it was her voice, Shinichi prodded further. "What do you mean a 'small issue'? What happened?"

"Well something didn't exactly go according to plan and since we both agree your girlfriend has monster strength, I decided as a last resort we can rely on that," the imposter smiled happily.

He was so proud of himself.

Not really sure if he wants to know what that means, Shinichi began heading towards the hall where he knew Ran would be then. "And you just left her there alone."

"What?" Kid pouted. "You don't have confidence in me, Shinichi?" They were in the hall now and Kid was trailing behind him still in that irritating disguise. He had given up on trying to maintain a shortened height and was walking normally, but out of all the things Shinichi could pick apart about the disguise, it was something else that disturbed him more.

"Do not do that," he spun around angrily. It was one thing to call him 'Shin-chan'. Ran would never call him that except for that single time before. But to speak to him how she actually does- it was starting to freak him out.

Kid frowned for real this time. "Don't do what?"

"Stop sounding like her!" He snapped uncomfortably.

Seeming to finally understand, Kid shrugged before saying in his own voice, "Fine."

But that was just as bad. Hearing that voice with Ran's face.

"Never mind- that's worse," Shinichi sighed heavily and fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just stop talking."

This was the first and only time they'd ever team up again. Shinichi couldn't believe they managed to talk him into it in the first place. They had been right. There was no point in the two thieves fighting over who stole the ring first when it was clear the goal was the same. Not like last time when the two men both stumbled into a treasure's room two weeks ago wanting to steal the same thing. And after they managed to almost both get caught last time due to them arguing, Ran had been the one to present this idea.

But Shinichi couldn't get over what the dunce had accused him of. 'Stealing his thunder'- as if they were competing to be the most wanted criminal in the fraud department. He wasn't trying to steal anything. As far as he was concerned, Kid could carry all media attention he wanted. Shinichi would never try to take that. But he couldn't help it if fans of theirs constantly argued over who the best thief actually was.

And yes, amazingly that was a thing.

Shinichi resented that though. He was no thief. And after watching him a little more closely, Shinichi realized that just maybe . . . Kid wasn't either.

Neither one wanted the treasure for themselves. Besides Kid's weird rule that he needed to 'look' at the gem before they decided anything. It was clear the Phantom Thief was looking for a treasure and once he found it, he wouldn't be giving it back. Shinichi wondered if that was likely the reasoning for what Kaito Kid was doing in the first place. He had never thought much of the guy. He had always just assumed that he was some mindless criminal that flaunted and attempted to disguise what he was- a criminal- behind obnoxious magic acts. Because that's all they were. Even if sometimes it took a bit to realize how the thief had done it, he always figured it out. There was always an explanation. And that's why Shinichi didn't understand nor did he care to learn just why Kid paraded around like a magician.

But now working with him, it annoyed him, but his curious mind made it easy for him to at least attempt to analyze his behavior.

Kid was doing this for a reason. A reason other than crime at least. He was positive Kid would never try to actually kill or harm a cop or bystander. He always took the treasure and bailed. And every single time, he would read the next day that the treasure had magically been 'returned' to the rightful owner.

Kaito Kid never held onto a single gem he stole. Not a single time.

It was difficult for him to admit, but Ran was right. The two were very similar. Even if they carried it out differently or if their way of doings things were the opposite of the others, their outcome was always the same. Shinichi wasn't foolish enough to believe they had the same goal; that they did this for the same reason. It was clear that Kid was looking for something and once he found it, he would not be returning it. But though he would never say it aloud, the Magician was not a bad person. He always wanted to believe there was no good enough reason to break the law. There was nothing that warranted another person committing a crime. But if that were actually true- then what were he and Ran doing? He wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. And so grudgingly, he accepted that about the Phantom Thief.

Things were very rarely black and white.

oOo

"Who was your nice date?"

The soft voice called over to him gently from up ahead on the path. Recognition immediately pulled his attention away from his feet he had been watching dejectedly; his hands stuffed inside his suit pockets. The words that filtered in however had him perking up.

Supressing a grin he shrugged. "Just some girl I met in college psychology."

Ran blushed slightly but smiled all the same. It wasn't till he reached her that she began walking beside him. "She seemed to be dressed a bit risqué though, don't you think?"

Shinichi peeked over at her as she stayed beside him. She wasn't looking back but he could only assume she was wondering how he liked her dress.

Which he refused to judge after having only seen Kaito Kid wearing it.

Referring back to her question, he snorted. "Probably because the wrong person was in it."

He would've much rather seen the real Ran wearing it.

Finally breaking composure- stopping whatever roundabout way she was trying to ask, she stopped walking. "But it was a perfect copy!" she protested pouting and Shinichi had to wonder what exactly she was after here. He had a feeling he'd be in trouble no matter the answer he gave her.

But perfect? Perfect clone, his ass.

"There are just some things that can't be copied," he supplied simply even though in his mind, he knew exactly what parts of Ran couldn't be imitated.

Ran was not content with his response. If anything, she almost became suspicious as he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "Like what?"

Realizing he might've steered this conversation somewhere he definitely didn't want, Shinichi swallowed hard when she raised a brow.

"What did he not copy?" she asked outright.

If she wants an honest explanation . . .

Sighing, he looked away, turning his nose up. "Your chest does not sit that high. Not only does he not have any, but your breasts are large. He most likely had to make them rest higher to disguise that. And though your thighs do have quite a bit of muscle, they are much softer than what he presented- not to mention he was actually walking around with his knees bent slightly to accommodate the height difference."

Ran didn't respond right away. Her silence dragged on and eventually he became nervous. He definitely confessed too much. Even if she was his girlfriend, surely it would make her uncomfortable to realize he watched her that intently. And on every little detail as well. But Shinichi couldn't help but to be insulted that she said Kid was an exact copy. That would never be possible. Ran could not be replicated. Especially when Shinichi could pick out so many things that the magician had gotten wrong in his disguise. Of course the detective knew there was only so much one could do in a disguise. But still, Shinichi was too much of a perfectionist and Ran was perfect in his eyes.

Suddenly his arm was being gripped gently and Shinichi blinked oddly when Ran slowly wrapped her arms around his. At first he thought she would be mad. He had openly admitted to ogling her. And if she asked him to be more honest, he would have to say he'd been watching her long before they started dating.

"Thank you," she said softly, startling him by breaking the silence and catching him off guard with her response. The confusion must've clearly been on his face because she turned red again. Her smile didn't drop though.

"It's nice to know that you could tell it wasn't me. . . that all you see if me."

They had begun walking again and Shinichi couldn't help but think he definitely dodged a bullet. But he would've been lying if he said anything else. And though it made him anxious to know that all his thoughts and feelings were out and on the table, he was sick of hiding them. Ran deserved to know exactly how he thought about her. She deserved to know just how much he noticed her and for how long he wanted to be with her.

And if he was rewarded for honestly. . .

"I guess that means you'll have to wear that dress again so I can actually give you an opinion on it," he said nonchalantly even though his gaze continued to rest ahead of him. He hoped it came out like a suggestion because he really hadn't gotten to see her in it. Currently she was wearing jeans and coat after having to give up the dress for Kid's impromptu disguise.

"Can't. I'm pretty sure Kid went home in it," Ran innocently said completely missing why he wanted her to wear it again and bursting his bubble in the process.

Deflating, he changed his mind. "He really is a thief," he grumbled.

Ran raised a brow. "And then what are you, Night Baron?"

"Alright," he said sternly while narrowing his eyes and she began giggling.

Clenching her arms much more firmly around his arm, he felt her chest press against it even more making him gulp. "Don't worry. I have something else I can wear just for you," she whispered.

[thesunshinebunny]

When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part III)

Series Master list

pairing: canon Eren Jaeger x reader

content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)

Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?

Chapter summary: It will take more than a betrayal and blood blath for the reader to stop protecting those who really need it.

Words count: 4.7k

I knew things were going to go from bad to worse when we returned to Paradis; but I never imagined that I would have a letter from the Supreme Commander on my desk. Days had passed since my fiasco conversation with Eren, spreading the word of my insubordination towards the lack of notification to the respective authorities. Sure, the guards had let me into the cell just because they knew me, but I never had the decency to tell Hange-san or even ask for a meeting with the Supreme Commander.

And here I was. Wrapped up in a much bigger shit roll since I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps, with a simple letter demanding my presence in his office for a little "talk."

The medical center where I could do my practices with ease was quite far from the justice’s court where the Supreme Commander was, having to go out to ride through the beautifully paved streets. A street I crossed, a street I saw citizens read the newspapers that had brought so much catastrophe to peace within the walls. People were revolting against the militancy, demanding Eren's immediate release, praising he was the only one who could lead Eldia to its ultimate glory.

If they could heard themself right now. They spoke as if Paradis itself had become an empire, a power on the verge of attacking and taking every country under its feet. It was as if they wanted to turn the game around, to be us the empire and our enemies the war slaves.

I was still far from my destination, but the crowd could be seen cowering above the barred court doors. Men and women with posters screaming without sense or unity, an angry mob demanding explanations, ready to use violence to make their way into the hierarchy.

I got off my horse when I faced the crowd, needing to get up front and through the secured gate and with my loyal traveling companion I wasn't going to make it. I left him tied up outside a local, asking the owner to take care of him, if necessary, I would give him a monetary compensation on my returned.

I tried to get through the mob, asking permission, even nudging some people, but no matter how hard I tried to take a step forward, there was always a bastard blocking my way or pulling me back; They even had the decency to grab my coat and throw me off.

"Excuse me, but I need to pass"

Empty words at this situation. If they didn’t listen to the specialized people of the militancy, it was obvious that they wouldn’t listen to me, a simple doctor in practice for the legion.

"Free the leader of the Eldian empire"

"Free Eren Jaeger"

"Give us some damn answer"

"Fuck off you cheap bitch"

The day wasn’t even beginning and I was already receiving hateful comments, typical of closed minds.

I looked around for a solution, I was wasting valuable time and starting to get irritated. If I was late for my meeting with the Supreme Commander, who knows what punishment he would give me apart from my insubordination.

Besides of the mob there wasn’t much more than a few elegant houses and shops, no other entrance except the one in the backyard, but to get there, I would have to go all the way around the building and it would take much longer. The walls were too high to jump alone and too smooth to climb, otherwise enough people would have sneaked in by now.

I turned my head towards my horse, which was still in the same position where I left him, patiently awaiting my return. Surely what I was about to do wasn’t going to please him one bit.

I ran as fast as I could and unhooked him from the wooden post, ignoring the comments of the owner of the premises who was indisputably claiming for his pay. Without turning my head to such scum, I motioned for the horse to turn around and run down the avenue, against the crowd. Being at a considered distance, I again instructed him to turn around and go as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry Phillip, you're going to have to forgive me for what I'm going to do"

We were a few meters from the mob, mentally preparing myself for the feat that was about to be accomplished. Almost arriving, about to impact, I gave him a little jerk to the right, guiding us towards the wall, and raised my legs towards his back, squatting against him, waiting for the right moment and the impulse he would give when braking hard.

When he was about to slam his trunk against the wall, Phillip stopped his galloping, propelling me forward and flying toward one of the door columns. I grabbed the stone as best I could, avoiding falling on my backside, and raised my legs towards the top, finally reaching my goal. Being already on top and looking at the terrified faces of the rebels, I went down to the other side of the door, slightly hurting my feet and hands in the fall.

"That was quite a show"

Hitch was already in front of me, malicious and proud on her face. She was giving a few applause to the air, trying to lift the spirits of the people of the military squad, even if her acting was a bit cocky.

"Desperate situations call for desperate measures." I waved my hands over the coat, looking at her with the same smug visage she was giving me.

I didn't like Hitch per se, but we weren't friends either. The way she acted and talked gave me bad vibes and I planned to stay as neutral as possible in her presence. Even her gazes seemed to want to pierce the soul of whoever she was speaking to, as if she wanted to undress you internally and seek your darkest and most shameful secrets. I would stick my hands in the fire by assuming that in her younger years she had been a bully or a blackmailer.

But it was better to keep those thoughts for yourself, before generating greater repercussions in the times that hugged us.

"Did you come to see Armin and Mikasa?"

Any thoughts I had of her dissipated.

"They ... are they here?"

I was fuzzy. Not because of the fact that I was uninformed about their actions when they left the legion barracks in the morning, which I was getting used to since last year, but because they were in the same place as me. What a coincidence.

To be honest, the two of them never owed me anything and it wasn't their duty to tell me where they were going every minute of the day, just like Hange. Each one of us had their own will to go where we were sung; But if the three of us were in court, and if they gave me the chance to guess, I would say that to see the Supreme Commander, it made me a bit suspicious.

"Yes, they are talking to the Supreme Commander to try to go talk to Eren"

I must have hit my head at some point in the battle of Marley, because lately every occurrence was quite impossible to believe. They were the ones who asked me to go talk to him a few days ago, they were the ones who questioned me when I returned to the waiting room where the few survivors of 104° Squad were;it was them who gave me a compassionate look as they saw I hadn’t accomplished much and I had ended any relationship that bound me with Eren.

And now here they were, demanding an audience with their childhood friend, while I would have to be judged for the same action. Something wasn’t fitting. I looked around trying to find them, or maybe to find an answer to the thousands of questions that were forming in my head, and finding no help, I turned to Hitch.

"What is going on? Why-"

Before I could finish my question, an explosion rumbled across the cobblestone floor, hurting our ears and knocking us to the ground. Fire and debris couldn’t only be seen in the air but also smelled, flooding our nostrils, causing us to cough and cover our eyes with debris.

I looked up to find a flare coming from one of the court offices and a heavy body falling in our direction. I couldn't make it out until it fell to the ground, leaving a stain of blood and ash around it, apart from leaving a trail of smoke from where it flew off. My eyes were opened with shock and amazement, since the person in front of me was nothing more and nothing less than the same militant leader, half of the body lost and burned by the explosion.

"Well ... that's new"

In all my years of service I have seen every horror inside and outside the walls. True, even the Survey Corps had acted against the law, but it was for the greater good, to expose the bastards who lived on the wall farthest from the sea. I had seen people hit and kick another for a piece of food when the wall Maria fell. I had seen how we were massacred one by one with bullets to the head as we tried to go beyond the walls.

But never in those years I had seen a rebellion like the one taking place, being willing to eliminate such an authoritarian figure as Darius Zackly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The chaos went unnoticed by a large part of the population, only those who were present at the time of the explosion and the military police were aware. Faced with such an atrocious event of treason, a small meeting was convened involving the most important heads of each faction; unfortunately I couldn’t be there, my presence had been required in a clinic a few meters from the court. There were quite a few injured.

Some had mild and harmless burns, others had large parts of the body with third degree burns. Some had splinters stuck in their arms and faces, some had a piece of wood stuck in their stomach.

A couple of hours had passed which seemed like weeks to me. I had been assigned the milder cases, but as I pulled the splinters out of a patient's eyes, I had the countless howls of people echoing in my head, listening as they took their last painful breaths. People who asked to die on purpose to ease the pain.

Hours passed and welcomed the next day. I had terrible black circles under my tired eyes, hands stained with dried blood and splintered; they’re fucked up and I needed to heal them as quickly as possible before they got infected. I grabbed the cutting tools and placed them on a metal tray, the cold of the surface soothing the pain in my hands, and although it wasn’t too heavy I felt like it trembled on my grip.

I heard the door open wide at the other side of my last patient's room, the front door, letting in multiple heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. Apparently, the soldier who had entered was in a hurry or was about to deliver terrible news...I wish I had been wrong in the second option.

"Bad news, Eren Jaeger has escaped from the underground cell"

I dropped the metal tray on my feet, making the sound of metal and utensils rumble across the room. My hands were shaking even more and surely if I saw myself in a mirror I would see my face completely pale.

"If you want to free yourself from this cell, go ahead"

My words invaded my mind like a bucket of cold water, as if they wanted to make me see that I was to blame for his escape. I knew that sooner or later he’s going to free himself, his eyes showed it and by not getting an answer that contrasted with mine, it was perfect evidence of his plans. But even knowing it, even Hange knowing it, I didn't expect him to do it in a moment of such betrayal.

I cleaned my hands as best I could with a towel hanging over the room sink and grabbed my coat, rushing out of the clinic.

"I’m sorry, I need to go"

But where to go was the question. I had no idea where Eren might be, and even if I knew what he was going to win, surely he was with his followers and with the simple image of me approaching from the horizon, I would be dead in a matter of seconds ... or imprisoned, whatever happen first.

At the exit of the clinic, there were two soldiers of the military police standing guard and watching the justice’s court from the distance. I approached them with the intention of asking them about the whereabouts of the Survey Corps, but they looked at me like I had the plague and pushed me aside hostilely, almost knocking me to the ground. I kept my composure as best I could and looked for someone else to ask; I didn’t have to wait long, since a woman of my age with mahogany hair, extremely black and matted, pointed the way where my comareds had gone. According to her words, they’re heading towards a large and luxurious building in the middle of one of the main avenues, recognizing the word restaurant from the conversation between the riders.

The only place that matched that description was the restaurant where Nicolo worked.

I hurried out with Phillip galloping through people, avoiding stepping on them and apologizing on my back. If there was something clear to me in all this mess, it was that Hange would go to find answers among the working Marleyans of that place. Maybe something could be solved.

I was very wrong.

I rushed into the building, finding only a long entrance hall and a corridor that led to god knows where. No one was even around to see me panic and I didn't see a soul nearby either, the only thing if I could hear a heated discussion far away and heavy footsteps on the floor. I let myself be guided by the sound, running back to its origins and finding a bizarre and meaningless scene in front of my eyes.

The room that seemed to be the main one hosted the orphaned children of the Blouse farm as well as Sasha's parents, sad and anguished parents if I paid better attention. The children were just as sad, with tears in their eyes, especially Kaya; they were crying the same way as on the day Sasha's death was reported. They were cornered under a window all together, hugging each other and letting the rays of the sun streaming through the window illuminate their figures, as if those rays could replace the heat that Sasha had left behind.

That scene broke my still fragile heart. I would have liked to reach out to them and try to help them move on, as I would have liked to stay on the farm with them when we came back from Marley to help them get by; obviously I could never have replaced Sasha and they could never have replaced my family, but in these times of battle, what mattered most was healing the wounds between all of us.

I would have liked to talk to them, but my eyes shifted from the Blouse family to the figure of Hange carefully placing a child on the floor. The blond boy was very badly injured on the side of his head, he was bleeding and his clothes had stuck to his body due to the large amount of liquid that had flowed down his torso.

"Hange-san, Wha-" As I stared at the blond boy on the floor, I could see that he was one of the children who had sneaked into our war balloon.

“Isn't that one of the Marleyan children? Why is he here and why is he bleeding?"

Unconsciously my body leaned forward, resting on one knee on the ground and reaching out to the boy. My instincts as a doctor were screaming for me to tend to the poor injured boy regardless of his race and I was willing to do so.

"We will take care of him, go to the room continue with Mikasa and Armin"

I got up without hesitation, taking one last look at the room I was in and it was just at that moment that I recognized Nicolo and Jean in a corner away from everyone else. They both looked very distressed, but I didn't have the opportunity to ask why, they had given me an order and I had to carry it out. I would have to wait until got back to base to understand this terrible situation.

The room they sent me to was at the end of the corridor, the door was closed but every step I took I could hear the soft voices of Mikasa and Armin, apparently talking to someone else. Well, that conversation must have to get a pause because I was about to slam the door in and leave the doors wide open.

“What the hell is going on? Why is a Marleyan child unconscious in the kitchen?"

Upon entering, all excited, my eyes only saw the figures of Armin and Mikasa around a table. They both looked up at me in disbelief when they saw me standing on the threshold. For the second time that day, I looked back across the stage in front of me and spotted a small brown-haired figure sitting at the same table. With a little more attention, I saw that the small figure was trembling, perhaps from fear or from adrenaline, at the same time that its face was bruised and full of blood; and putting all my attention on that bloody face I realized that I recognized those eyes, those same eyes that I had looked at with contempt and had looked back at me with the same feeling the night of the invasion.

The missing girl from the Marleyan duo was sitting across from me staring with sheep's eyes.

All exaltation I had in my body dissipated, my gaze fell, leaving nothing more than a neutral countenance. But ... anyone who could see through my eyes, would know they reflected the fatigue and sadness of several accumulated days. Seeing the girl was perhaps a way of attaching all the harmful feelings in a single part of my body.

I let out a long sigh and closed the door slowly behind me. I walked slowly towards where the girl was, running Mikasa to the side and looked at her with the best possible adult countenance. She had a red nose, it looked like it had been hit right on her septum causing her to bleed and stain her dress, which I assumed was courtesy of the Blouse family. Her cheek was scratched and red too, traces of broken and inflamed skin could be seen around her wound, but without any bleeding. This girl would have a swollen face the next day if we don't give her some ice.

“You’re hurt. Care to explain me what happened?"

I reached my hand out to her, but was greeted with a flinch from her. I could tell she was scared and she had every right to be.Either way, way I brought my hand to her face, placing my index finger and thumb on her jaw to move her head and look for other injuries.

Her face was the one that received the most impact, nothing in her eyes which was a very good sign, and I didn’t notice any kind of fracture in the bones of her cheek or septum. Good. I looked around the room for something I could use, but I only found empty tables adorned with a classic tablecloth and a very well elaborated and cared wine cellar, apart from showing off one of the best wine collections in recent years.

"Armin, can you go get some alcohol to disinfect the wounds? Surely they have something in the kitchen "

The blonde gave me a slight nod and left the room, leaving me alone with Mikasa, who was absolved of the situation, but still maintaining an imposing posture. The girl was still shaking on my hand, so I pushed her away and inspected her body for more injuries.

The palms of her hands were stained with blood, I guessed from the bleeding from her nose, but they also had some slight scratches, perhaps she had fallen to the floor. Her dress didn’t seem torn in the area of ​​the knees, so I assumed that they weren’t injured or it was a very slight scratch, almost no bleeding. Her arms seemed intact as did her torso. I turned to the back of her head, running her hair gently trying to find any trace of blow that could generate a contusion. I didn’t find anything that could be fatal or serious, but I did see something that caught my attention.

“You have marks on your head, diffuse, but they are there. What happened?"

"... A horse bit me"

Of all the situations that could have led to those brands, I didn't expect to hear this one. I didn’t expect it, not at all. It caught me off guard and I let out a giggle which I covered with the back of my hand.

"Sorry, shouldn't laugh… you deserve it thou" I gave her a little pat on the top of her head before ruffling it a bit and bending down to look into her eyes.

Armin returned to the room, alcohol in hand and a clean cloth. Thank God something was clean in this whole city, I was beginning to lose my faith in the cleanliness of this people. I reached for the items and I proceeded to apply a large amount of alcohol to the cloth and apply it first to the frightened girl's cheek.

"Why are you so good to me? I killed a one of your friends"

That comment made me stop for a second, just like I stopped looking at her wound. My gaze fell to the floor in search of an answer; I searched, searched and searched for answers to questions that didn’t have one or weren’t as simple as they seemed...or simply looked in the wrong places and the answers were always in my mind, only that my heart wasn’t prepared to face them.

"The girl you killed the night of the invasion was called Sasha Blouse and she was the best archer and sniper of the legion"

I turned my gaze to her, continuing to heal her wound on her cheek. When I saw that there was only a small pink stain left on the surface, I moistened the cloth further with alcohol and ran it under her nose, removing any trace of blood. The girl pulled back a bit when she felt it’s smell her nostrils and I had the opportunity to cover her nose for a few seconds to stop the bleeding.

"You know ... you remind me of a boy exactly like you"

When I saw that the bleeding stopped and the girl stopped moving due to the burning and itching that the alcohol was surely causing, I grabbed her hands and began to clean them with small touches avoiding tearing her skin.

“Just as intense and ready to fight for what he thinks is fair. You are just a little girl who was taught that we were the bad guys. It’s the way you were raised, the way you see the world. They taught us something else, but at the end of the day, apart from everything... we are the same"

It hurt. Yes, it hurt to see the one guilty of the death of my best friend, but it hurt more to see in her eyes the hatred and contempt they had taught her towards our race. The hate cycle we were getting into wasn't going to get us anywhere and it was better to nip it in the bud, even with baby steps.

When I finished cleaning all her wounds, I put the cloth on the table and looked at my performance with deep pride. It wasn't much, but it was enough; Not only had I cleaned a few simple wounds, but perhaps, I wished that perhaps, it would begin to heal her mind ... and mine as well.

I got up heavily, noticing how my knees creaked when squatting for a long time and I stretched my body generating more crunches, but noting at the same time how the heaviness of my back left and leave behind a much lighter load.

“Very good, you’ve been a good patient. Surely there is something sweet in the kitchen that I can give you” I patted her head again and gave her a sincere smile, one that I hadn't given anyone for quite a while. I headed to the door unconcerned about the situation I assumed was still going on in the main room.

"What's going to happen to Eren Jaeger?"

What will happen to him? And why does she ask me that?

"Don't worry, I'm not letting him put a finger on you" A sincere answer to a question asked out of fear. I reached the door and in the middle of the sentence I turned the knob wanting to make my way into the hall, but a tall figure blocked my way.

Eren was right on the threshold with the intention of opening it.

Well mark me impress

My body jerked back instinctively, avoiding taking my eyes off his. I moved to the right side, avoiding the figure of the Marleyan girl from being in Eren's point of view. I didn't know why he was here or if the others knew about it, but whatever the reason, he surely wasn’t alone and this wasn’t going to lead to anything good.

"Sit down"

He took a few steps forward, closing the door with his foot, not even paying attention to his surroundings, or maybe yes, now everything was a confusion when it came to the brunette in front of us.

"You can't tell me what to do" I planted myself in front of him, without taking a step back. We were both facing each other, him carrying me several inches tall, several dominating inches that made my legs shake and my heart race.

If it had been in any other situation, that trembling, that acceleration would have been very well received. It was impossible not to feel small next to Eren, the damn bastard had hit a big stretch and there was a great difference around the body between the two, a difference that I always loved to admire.

But not now. Not at this moment when everything was going to shit and I had to stand up to the figure of a little girl who was internally dying of fear thanks to him.

"Sit. Down"

Few centimeters separated us from each other, his chest too close to mine, I could feel how it swelled with each breath. He raised his hand to my face, letting me see his cut palm and dripping blood. Fear took hold of me, making me stand even more in my position, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily.

"You wouldn't" I looked him in the eye, defiant, longed for and everything in between.

"Try me"

It was all he said before grabbing onto my shoulders and pulling me back. My body collided with the table and instinctively I placed my hands on it. I heard how Armin and Mikasa tried to get closer to where we were, but a single glance from Eren made them stay still, submissive, as they lost in their positions. His gaze returned to mine. My breath hitched and I had to avoid with all my might thinking about the position we were entwined.

It wasn’t the time to think about how my hips were slightly elevated, just my butt up on the table and one leg dangling, his knee between my legs, preventing me from closing them and keeping the leg that was hanging in the air. His gaze wandered between our bodies and he returned to my eyes. He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pushed me to the side of the table, dropping me onto the chair next to the girl.

"I said. Sit. Down"

He took his hands off my shoulders, took the seat next to me and Armin and Mikasa sat with him, leaving an air of discomfort and tension in the environment.

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[itsuki-minamy]

LIMITED KINGSHIP, WAR STORIES:

CHAPTER 2: HEKIREKI & SENDEN

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Suddenly he realized that the enemy was gone.

The surroundings were full of the dead. Most of the folded corpses belonged to members of the "Purgatory" clan who wore black clothes. Fifteen minutes ago, a hasty force led by Gouki Zenjo raided that warehouse after being contacted by the intelligence department. And then the warehouse turned into a terrible battlefield.

With "Hekireki" bloody on his shoulder, Zenjo started looking for the next enemy to attack. But that no longer existed.

The battle was over and the remnants were hunting. There were still some in black who resisted, but it was only a matter of time before they were crushed or smashed. While he was thinking that, Bado's iron spear pierced one of the black ones, and Azuma's twin sword stabbed another. The "Purgatory" clan member, who had decent fighting ability, didn't seem to be staying anywhere.

"How boring."

He hit the field in an unsightly way and lowered "Hekireki" to the ground.

The next moment, the pile of corpses exploded.

"Zenjo!"

Fresh blood came out from the sword wound all over the body, and flames came from both feet, the one in black clothes was good at fighting. A deadly surprise attack that hid the corpse of a colleague. Long before he understood it, Zenjo tried to shake "Hekireki" with his own super reaction.

He could not.

According to a later investigation, it was an inadvertent collaboration between those in black. One in black that lay behind Zenjo was dying, but was still breathing. With the last of his strength, he grabbed the "outside" blade, regardless of whether his fingers fell.

That caused a delay of a few seconds. Zenjo was just looking at the flaming fingers approaching in front of him, holding "Hekireki's" fixed handle.

But he just grabbed Zenjo's nose.

"You need more than that..."

The one in black clothes who attacked Zenjo stopped in midair. Blood poured from the edge of his mouth which opened and closed with bloody eyes wide open. A thin saber protruded from his chest, and the saber that pierced his chest diagonally from below suddenly stopped the one in black clothing.

"Ah!"

A cheerful voice that did not seem to belong to the place, resounded behind the one in black clothes.

"I'm sorry I made a mistake! Zenjo-san, can you take care of it please?"

It was as easy as asking him to take the remote there. After blinking, Zenjo passed by "Hekireki" and frequently shook the ones in black clothes.

The flames that clung to both feet disappeared.

The body of the man in black, who had lost his neck, was thrown to the ground. A young man standing there waved his saber and wiped off the blood. The friendly look reminded him of a laughing dog.

"No, I made a mistake. If you tap it, it can't be the case, huh? Hahaha…"

"Kuze. You saved me."

Young Kuse laughed cheerfully and waved.

"I just did something extra. Zenjo-san, you could have handled it with a margin."

"No, I couldn't react now. I would have been 'without a nose' at best, because it was aiming at my head."

"Well, is that so? That's good. Soon it's new soba season!"

Zenjo smirked as he tapped on Kuze's shoulder, saying that he was out of focus.

"This season's buckwheat noodles are pretty good too. I'll use chopsticks when I get back to the barracks. Thanks for your help."

"Oh then, make it soba."

"What? Are you going to ask me to make arrangements again?"

Kuse was smiling. Zenjo saw the smile as if he was amazed. Not suitable for a bright appearance, this young man had a very persistent character.

"Well, I wish I could go home."

"Oh, thanks!"

As Kuze struck a gutsy pose, Zenjo shrugged and walked towards a group of hurrying troops who had begun to take care of the remaining work.

++++++++++

The war was escalating.

Kagutsu Detention Center "Red King" crackdown operation. The attack from "Scepter 4" intended to kill Kagutsu Genji was unsuccessful in retrospect. Although the force of "Purgatory" was greatly reduced, the original purpose of the operation was not finally achieved, and Kagutsu left his territory and fled, and the remaining clan members divided into thousands and went into hiding. The hive was destroyed, but the queen bee and the soldier bees were flying now.

The activities of the scattered members of the "Purgatory" clan were almost the same as before. Whenever something happened, there was a danger that they would explode. "Scepter 4" chased after them and they were incapacitated as soon as they were discovered, but "Purgatory" wasn't just silently hunted to death. The damage caused by a fierce counterattack who did not care about his own life was turning into a social problem that could not be covered even by "Tokijikuin".

There were two pressing issues.

One was the search and murder of Kagutsu as soon as possible. As long as that "King" will continue to exist on earth, this war would never end.

And the other was to increase the strength of "Scepter 4".

The battle with "Purgatory", who burned the people, burned the city and even burned themselves, was slowly shaving the staff of "Scepter 4". To make up for the loss, they touted that they had the cause of the war and recruited a large number of talented personnel from the relevant ministries.

Shuichiro Kuze was one of those supplemental staff members.

Originally a police officer, he achieved outstanding results on both his aptitude and skill tests, and joined the "Scepter 4" running unit at exceptional speed. He was a rare human resource who had already been dispatched several times and was not afraid to fight the deadly "Purgatory", but instead displayed a simulation as if he was enjoying it.

For some reason, Kuze teamed up with Zenjo.

Even now, Kuze and Zenjo were undergoing simulated one-on-one training in the training ground of the "Scepter 4" barracks. Except for the fact that the product was a bamboo sword, it was a form of training that came as close to the actual battle as possible. Even attacks on key points were tolerated wherever they were covered by armor.

Kuze raised the bamboo sword to eye level and turned its blade towards Zenjo.

Zenjo carried a large bamboo sword on his shoulder and was about to attack him.

Kuze's specialty was "pushing". His stab, fired by explosive acceleration with a different ability, was roughly equal to the speed of a bullet. It would be impossible to react if it were the perception of an ordinary person.

But, of course, Zenjo was not an ordinary person.

"Let's go!"

The next moment that Kuze said that, the figure disappeared.

An extraordinary light that glowed fluttering blue like the tail of a meteor. Before recognizing it, Zenjo's body was moving. The speed God's sword judgment darted into the void on the right.

Zenjo's bamboo sword touched Kuze's sword that jutted out without fail.

"Ah!"

As he wielded the sword of pursuit, Zenjo was impressed. Viewed from above, the location of the different abilities would have looked like a rank "nine". A blow from outside the field of vision due to explosive acceleration, but it did not exceed Zenjo's reaction speed.

"Che!"

Kuze sped up again, leaving a childish click of the tongue. As he repeated sharp turns ignoring the laws of physics, he jumped incessantly. He was like a spring-loaded toy that swept across the training ground.

Zenjo stopped chasing him with his eyes and closed his lids.

Behind.

Before he felt it, his body was still moving. He turns and cut the space behind him. The cut that was shot deflected Kuze's thrust horizontally upward and hit him like he was a face shield.

"Damn!"

With a stupid voice, Kuze struck and fell to the ground of the training ground. If he had been serious, he would have lost his nose.

"This is the ninth."

Carrying the bamboo sword on his shoulder again, Zenjo said that without pride. Kuze, who had stretched out into a large shape, lifted his upper body as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I thought I could pull it off now... Zenjo-san, do you have eyes behind you?"

"Well, it's clear. You can understand it even if you can't see it."

"Mm... Zenjo-san, another one! Please."

When Kuze lifted his index finger, Zenjo was truly astonished and showed the training ground clock with his chin.

"It's closing time. It will be tomorrow."

"Really? Absolutely tomorrow!"

"I wish they hadn't sent me."

Saying that, while he was a bit crowded, Zenjo headed for the exit. Kuze also put the bamboo sword in a bag and bounced after him.

After taking a shower together, they had dinner later.

The barracks cafeteria was quiet, probably because it was late. Zenjo ordered a hazaru soba and Kuze a kitsune udon, and they ate together.

Kuze talked to Zenjo all the time while he ate.

"Zenjo-san, are you attached to the army?"

"Hmm?"

" I belonged there. There are a lot of people like that in 'Scepter 4', right?"

Surely it was so. The personnel of "Scepter 4" came mainly from other security organizations. Unless they didn't lack combat training on a daily basis, they couldn't withstand the battle with "Purgatory."

However, the situation was different for Zenjo.

After slurping his soba, he said...

"I am from a mountain."

"Mountain?"

"When I was waving a stick in the mountains, I met Habari, so I followed him."

Kuze blinked twice as he pinched the fried food with chopsticks.

"Well, what was that? What kind of situation?"

"Thanks, like I said."

Answering only that, Zenjo took a sip of soba again.

Kuze stared at Zenjo for a while with a surprised face, and then...

"Fu…"

He shook his shoulders and started laughing.

"Hahahahahahahaha! What's wrong, did you meet the commander in the mountains and follow him? Hahaha, Zenjo-san, are you a youkai?"

Zenjo was disappointed in Kuze, who bent over his body and laughed like a child. It was surprising that he was laughed at, although it was not his intention to make him laugh.

"No, sorry, I'm not going to make a fool of myself. But that was very interesting."

"Is it interesting?"

"It's incredibly interesting! I've never met such a person!"

"Mmm...?"

He wondered if that was the case. Originally, Zenjo was a guy who didn't understand many things. If they told him it was interesting, it would be true.

"No, you're good at 'Scepter 4' after all. It's not boring."

As he cheerfully said that, Kuze drank the udon from him. As Zenjo ate the soba noodles, he looked at Kuze as if he was looking at something strange.

"Bored?"

"Yes. The workplace in front of me was already boring. Anyone can do it, such as document preparation, on-site verification and traffic control. More like this, a fierce car chase with the criminal! Fighting battle! Shooting! I was imagining it."

He lifted the bowl and drank the soup.

"So it's so boring that I shouldn't do it. When I was thinking about it, they asked me and I came to try it. I can do what I want every day! It's a lot of fun, right? That's why I think you adapt very well to "Scepter 4"!

Zenjo scratched his cheeks while Kuze drank, wiped his mouth and clasped his hands with a "Thanks for the food!"

"Uh..."

"Isn't that the case with Zenjo-san? Don't you do it because it's medicinal?"

"Eh?"

He wondered if that was the case. Was he enjoying the battle with "Purgatory"?

There was no doubt that he was elevated during the battle. On the battlefield where a momentary judgment divides life and death, that feeling that inspires all cells cannot be experienced anywhere else.

But he didn't think he was struggling to taste it.

When he swung his sword under Habari's command in "Scepter 4", he felt that he was breathing properly. It seemed natural to do so and it "fit." He didn't know if he could describe it as funny.

"Well, that's correct."

It became difficult to think of the way and Zenjo answered that.

"That's right! Well, I'm glad you feel the same way as me!"

Kuze laughed in a friendly way and then a mysterious light fell on his eyes.

"But lately, it's more fun practicing with Zenjo-san than interacting with 'Purgatory'."

"Really?"

"Yes, because Zenjo-san is much stronger than them, so it's fun to do it. Hey, Zenjo-san. Someday, with me…"

Kuze cut off the words when he suddenly remembered. After blinking several times, the mysterious light disappeared. Then suddenly he stood up and held the bowl of kitsune udon in his hands.

"Sorry, it's nothing! So, good night!"

With a smile, Kuze went to the place where the dishes were being returned.

As he drank his soba, Zenjo rebelled against Kuze's words.

(Well, I'm glad you feel the same way as me!)

Maybe it wasn't.

Although they belonged to the same "Scepter 4" and wielded a saber, he felt that something was decisively different between him and Kuze.

He didn't know what it was. He didn't want to think until he knew. Thinking again that he was okay, Zenjo dropped the green onion seasoning into crushed chunks.

++++++++++

Three days later, the hidden member of the "Purgatory" clan in Minari-cho, Fengze-ku, was discovered.

According to the information department report, there was only one member. However, the problem is that he was hiding in the houses of common people. They threatened the inhabitants and parasitized their lives themselves. A bully lurked in his house and behaved inattentive. The father of the family, who could not bear such a situation, rushed to a public institution and discovered his existence.

In response to this, "Scepter 4" quickly formed a unit that rushed over. They ran to the site to "exterminate" the abominable parasite.

However, this time, it was not possible to get through the gate with the transport vehicle and cut it randomly. After all, the other party was alone and the detained hostages were a mother and two young children, according to the father's information. If they took action inadvertently, it would have the worst consequences.

The operation required speed and stealth. "Scepter 4", the deputy director, Gen Shiotsu, selected the appropriate personnel and devised a strategy.

Shuichiro Kuse was included in the staff, but it was boring for him.

Kuze was toying with that idea while biting his yawn in the car.

It had already been three hours since they arrived at the place. Because "Scepter 4" stood out in a transport vehicle, they used an ordinary sedan type and stopped from hiding to blind spot. Kuze sighed softly, looking at him stagnant out the window.

He wished he could rush in and kill him.

It would be easy. He would jump out the door, go through the second floor and invade, and drive the saber into the heart of the guy in black. That was all that was needed.

Kuze understood why he was selected as a runner. The small body was suitable for infiltration, and the "Senden" saber he had was also a slim custom-made one, so it should work effectively in a small room.

So he wanted to do it as soon as possible.

Finally, the long-awaited command came from insiders.

"The target has taken the hostage. I enclose the location."

"Yes!"

He sprang to his feet, grabbed the saber, opened the passenger seat door, and Kuze broke into a run.

In seconds, the target house came into view. When he was hiding behind the wall of a neighbor's house and observing the situation, the transmitter spoke a voice again.

"The target is in the bathroom on the second floor. The children cannot confirm the whereabouts of their mother in the next room. Each member must pay the utmost attention and do everything in their power to secure the hostages."

"Kuze, ready!"

With a light tone, Kuze pulled "Senden" out of the scabbard.

He held his breath and waited for the moment. The plan of the house is engraved on his head. All the images of how he would move, what kind of path he would take and how he would kill the one in black clothes were created in Kuze's brain.

Kuze himself did not know that there were no hostages there.

"Fast!"

By the time Shiotsu's voice echoed, Kuze was jumping.

He jumped off the wall, landed on the ceiling, and ran. At the edge of the field of vision, he could see a blue trail that went through him in the same way. There were a total of four runners, all their own competitors, who aspired to the life of a single man in black. Kuze licked his lips and accelerated to the point where the shingles broke.

He jumped with the same impulse, he broke the second floor window with his body and ran inside.

"Eh?!"

He heard a high-pitched voice. Kuze invaded the children's room on the second floor. According to the information, two children who were less than elementary school students were shaking in a corner of the room.

Kuze ignored it.

The problem was that of black clothes. If he killed him, everything would be solved. So that should take precedence. Kuze thought that way and stepped out into the second floor hallway.

Their eyes met.

There was a figure in black clothes in the bathroom that was left open. However, when Kuze found him, he was strangling and using the children's mother as a shield.

"Stay away, blue clothes! This woman will die!"

He could barely see the one in black who was angry. Very firmly, he was hiding behind the woman. The scared woman shook her head, while she shook her head, he looked and disappeared his face burned in black.

Before thinking of anything, Kuze was kicking the ground.

If he killed him, that would be it. That was the only priority, and everything else was wiped from Kuze's head.

Many things happened at the same time.

"Kuze, stop!" One of the rushing staff members yelled.

"Damn it!" The man in black's burned face turned red, and the flame-filled woman screamed in tears.

Time seemed to flow slowly. He could feel precisely the extraordinary light of "Senden", the heat of the flames that sprouted from the face of the man in black and the smell of the flesh that enveloped her.

In the slowdown time, Kuze analyzed various factors and...

(Oh, this person can't be helped anymore.), he thought.

Too easily, he cut off the hostage's life.

This being the case, the hostage's body was no longer a problem. It was just a corpse, a wall of flesh less than 8 inches.

It did not hinder "Senden".

With a half-smile, Kuze stabbed hard forward.

A bright blue tip pierced the woman's chest, and the heart of the man in black was skewered and glued to the bathroom wall.

"......"

The woman opened and closed her mouth. Kuze tilted his head and looked at her face, thinking that she looks like a dying goldfish.

When Kuze drew the saber, the woman and the one in black fell one on top of the other. Their bloods mixed.

The bodies clung to each other and wet Kuze's shoes.

He takes a breath and inform the others.

"We have deactivated the objective. The mission is complete."

At the same time, an angry sound rang out from behind.

"Kuze! Damn! What did you do?!"

He thought, and looked at the owner of the voice as if he was confused. It was Shinohara, who belonged to the same group as him. He was yelling something when he flushed with anger, but Kuze couldn't understand the meaning of the word. He turned his neck and face away to keep them from flying off.

The frozen facial expressions of the two boys, looking through the door, were reflected in Kuze's field of vision.

++++++++++

"Do you know what you did?"

"Scepter 4", Shiotsu made a heavy voice in the barracks interview room.

Shuichiro Kuze, standing in front of him, replied as if nothing had happened.

"I killed the member of the 'Purgatory' clan. I think it was an unavoidable decision in that situation."

"Right now, 'Purgatory' is not the problem. The problem is Kuze, you stabbed the hostage and killed her."

"I did not murder her. At that time, the woman had already been killed by the one in black clothes. Should I be so reprimanded for damaging her corpse?"

Shiotsu had various reports in front of him.

"Shinohara's report is different. At that time, Shinohara said that the woman was still alive. However, he testified that you ignored the warning and approached the black-robed one and went through him."

"In my eyes, she looked dead."

Kuze spoke clearly.

"I think it would have been difficult to help her, even if she had a break. Is it the right decision to leave the dangerous clansman to help a dying woman? If the action was delayed, hers, two of her children and I could have been euthanized."

"It is not you who should judge whether the woman would be saved or not."

"The judgment of the site should be left to the members of the site."

Shiotsu groaned softly.

What Kuze said was correct in some respects. In the battle with "Purgatory", a momentary misjudgment could be fatal. And that moment came innumerably. It was not enough to have many lives if they were all compared with the regulations of the body and the current law. Above all, Kuze said that a certain amount of excessive acts should be allowed to protect one's life.

But…

Shiotsu watched Kuze's expression.

There was no expression floating there. Self-blame, regret, remorse. He couldn't read any of the emotions the one with the almost innocent human hands would have.

Shiotsu muttered to himself that that was the real problem.

"Kuze..."

At that moment, Shiotsu silently inhaled, and then...

"Where do you think the meaning of 'Scepter 4' is?"

"Eh…?"

"Answer it. What's 'Scepter 4' for?"

For the first time, the color of hesitation reached Kuze's expression.

As he listened to Shiotsu, Kuze replied.

"Kill the enemy. Annihilate "Purgatory" and bring peace to society."

Shiotsu sighed deeply and said.

"No. You are definitely misunderstanding."

"......"

"Our mission is to protect the general public. The sword to protect those who cannot resist the weapon of incompetence, that is 'Scepter 4'."

"It's the same as I said, right?"

In the words that Kuze muttered, unprecedented emotions appeared.

He was frustrated.

"Killing those in black clothes is to protect the general public. If they are left unattended, tens or even hundreds of people will die if they are not treated well. To avoid that, isn't it natural to leave two people alone?"

"Still, we should not be the ones to kill. We should be the ones to protect the people. If there is a defenseless civilian, that is why we have the power to protect ourselves."

"It's stupid."

Kuze laughed through his nose. His dark and bright gaze seemed harsher, as he generally had a friendly gaze.

"Why do we have to do that? It is so stupid for a good person to be sacrificed for an inferior person."

Shiotsu closed his eyes.

What swirled around his chest was not anger at Kuze, but responsibility for himself.

He may have been too impatient to make up for the personnel lost in the battle with "Purgatory". He had hired a person who lacked the most important qualities, distracted only by the ability to fight. He should have known well what would happen if that person had a different ability and special power.

People who cannot control themselves will eventually use their different abilities as they wish.

How is it different from "Purgatory"?

Shiotsu slowly opened his eyes and said in a low voice,

"Shuichiro Kuse. Say goodbye to "Scepter 4" from now on."

++++++++++

Kuze, who came out of the interview room, was looking vaguely at the ceiling of the hallway.

(I blew it.), he thought.

With that in mind, he sighs. This time, he looked down at the ground and started walking.

When he was called by Shiotsu, Kuze had decided what he should do. That was a field decision and he didn't think he had done anything wrong. He intended to stick to that statement.

It is the members of the field who exchange lives. However, it was not uncommon for him to be blamed for a later trial. It was a common feeling not only for Kuze but also for the ER personnel.

Shiotsu was smart and looked closely at the members. That is why he thought that he would not give such a severe punishment based on his thoughts.

"He was telling me something strange."

Kuze lied and looked at his hand. When he focused his consciousness there, the blue glow of the extraordinary shimmered.

It was proof that he was an excellent person and a chosen one.

Kuze couldn't respond well to Shiotsu's words asking the meaning of "Scepter 4". That was because Kuze didn't know. Therefore, he got a rag out of there. It didn't matter if the general public died or lived, he knew that his true intentions would probably not be forgiven within the organization, so he hid it.

The important thing for Kuze was to use that power in all directions to fight. Fight "Purgatory", bypass the momentary deadline and end the life of the enemy. Never in a dull life until now, was it a bright day.

That was stolen from him.

Because he took a boring life from a boring human.

Kuze sighed again and suddenly raised his face.

A familiar giant was walking down the hall. Kuze laughed and raised a hand.

"Hey, Zenjo-san."

"Oh, Kuze?"

Zenjo's eyebrows widened when he noticed that Kuze was there for the first time.

"What are you doing in a place like this? Is it training?"

"No."

Kuze laughed bitterly and...

"Hey, I've been preaching to the vice principal. I'm here for that."

"Oh, Shiotsu? It's loud."

Sympathy reached Zenjo's eyes. Seeing that, Kuze's smile changed to a natural one.

That person knew himself.

He had always felt that way. Zenjo, like himself, rejoiced in the fight. He was a person who should have the nature of killing people rather than helping people. So, Kuze was sure that if he talked about the situation, this person would be on his side.

"But you're almost right."

Zenjo simply denied the idea.

"Eh?"

"Shiotsu is loud, but he's always right. If he claims something from you, you're wrong. I wonder what he was. Apologize properly."

"......"

Kuze looked at his toes.

"Yes, what is that?"

"If that is all."

"I see."

Kuze scratched his head again with a bitter smile.

"In a way that's correct. I thought it was suitable for 'Scepter 4', but surprisingly, isn't it?"

"Eh?"

Zenjo mysteriously shook his head, thought for a moment and then nodded.

"That's right. You said you were the same as me, but I think you are different from me."

"......"

"I can't put it right. You might not be good at 'Scepter 4'. You should stop in time."

Zenjo said that in a wonderful and irresponsible way.

Kuze was about to start laughing. Interestingly, he didn't get mad at all. This was because it had been broadcast that Zenjo was saying that from the bottom of his heart without any malicious intent.

After all, Kuze didn't dislike Zenjo. He was clean, natural, and stronger than anyone. That's why he liked dealing with this person, because he could fight without shackles.

He regretted thinking that he couldn't do that from now on.

Then, Kuze suddenly glowed.

"Ah!"

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Sorry Zenjo-san, I just remembered my errand now! I'm done!"

In a hurry, Kuze ran down the hall. Zenjo said, "Oh...?", and gave up, but Kuze suddenly stopped and looked back.

"Please help me again later!"

Zenjo laughed and nodded.

"Oh, I have to be sent."

"Still, please!"

Kuze ran away, saying just that with a smile.

It was that night that Shuichiro Kuze disappeared with "Senden".

++++++++++

When he got out of the transport car, a warm wind caressed Zenjo's cheeks.

The policeman raised his face and smelled a faint smell on the wind. He was delving into the battlefield with "Purgatory". He smelled like sticky, burnt blood.

According to the map, the back alley where the discovery of the men in black was reported was divided into T-shapes. The unit split into three hands, blocking all exits. The most important thing to prevent was that those in black clothes escaped. They had to make sure to capture or neutralize them, even if they took some risks.

At that moment, in front of Zenjo, the entrance to the back alley was black and open.

"Over there."

At random, Zenjo entered an alley.

The back alley was narrow and dark. Polyethylene buckets and outdoor units blocked the street, and the walls of the building that approached from the left and right blocked the sunlight. If one in black clothes came out of the shadows and emitted a flame of extraordinary skill, there would be no way around it. It could be said that this was also a dead place.

Still, Zenjo was not afraid and advanced slowly.

The process suddenly stopped.

Shinohara, who was following Zenjo, said groaning.

"What is the situation? What is this?"

One in black clothes was dead, as if his back was against the wall of the building.

Wide-eyed and in a pool of blood. The burned right hand was soaked in the blood clot, burning and producing black smoke. This was probably the cause of the smell.

In the first place, it was a mystery from the initial discovery report.

It was said that several of the black clothes were fighting. At the time, there were no "Scepter 4" units deployed nearby, and since the Hiiragi incident, the police had been told to stay away from the men in black. Most likely it was a fight between those in black, but in the current situation where they were hiding in a scattered way, he did not think they would do such an outstanding act.

So who was fighting the ones in black?

Zenjo, who was inspecting the corpse in black, said the answer.

"It's Kuze."

"What…?!"

"It is pierced all over the body. This is due to 'Senden'."

Saying that, Zenjo stood up.

Since that night, Kuze's whereabouts have been known to be uncertain. Kuze's legal status was the same as an "Illegal Strain" since he was fired from "Scepter 4". They had to capture him and put a skill suppressor on him, but there weren't enough personnel to track him down in "Scepter 4".

Kuze killed the ones in black and, perhaps, he was still hiding in that place.

"But why is Kuze here?"

Shinohara said that, and suddenly closed his mouth.

Someone slowly emerged from the darkness behind the alley.

It was also one of black clothes.

"Oh, fufu...!"

His face was distorted with anger and hatred, and blood was pouring from his entire body to the point that his black suit was still drenched in red and black. Legs wobbly, the one in black slowly approached.

"Gah!"

The tip of the saber protruded from his chest.

The saber was instantly pulled out and the one in black collapsed to his knees.

Zenjo spoke the name from behind him, standing there.

"Hekireki."

"Oh, Zenjo-san!"

Dressed in a dark green raincoat, Kuze smiled at his face, which had been bathed in blood, and called out to Zenjo cheerfully.

"No, I'm lucky! I can't get it all of a sudden!"

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

Eyes blinking, Kuze looked around him, and mysteriously at himself.

"What's wrong? It's not a job. I got fired from 'Scepter 4'."

He shook "Senden" to spill the blood.

"But if you look for the black clothes, 'Scepter 4' will come, right? Maybe Zenjo-san is there! I thought it was good."

While he smiled, Kuze,

"I never thought we could meet at once! I'm lucky! So…"

He crouched down and pointed the tip of "Senden".

"Let's go."

Before Zenjo thought of anything, Kuze was kicking the ground.

The glow of the blue genie was diffusely reflected in the narrow back alley. He bounced off the ground, scaled walls, emergency stairs, he went up, down, left and right, and hit everything, drawing an unpredictable trajectory like a pinball.

Shinohara, who was behind Zenjo, couldn't even follow Kuze with his eyes. But Zenjo reacted.

It was also an action before thinking. The thick blade of "Hekireki" flipped up as the wind scattered.

The dark green raincoat split in half.

Kuze was no longer there. He twisted in midair, tossed his raincoat, and landed on the ground.

Zenjo kept "Hekireki" jumping and stopped in an unprotected posture. Looking at his empty torso, a fierce smile appeared on Kuze's mouth.

(I caught you!), he thought.

With extraordinary power in his legs, Kuze tried to strike a stroke of luck.

He felt the shock in his chest.

"Eh?"

He lost the strength of his leg. His soles did not separate as if they were stuck to the ground. Interestingly, he looked under his feet and saw a saber thrust into his chest.

"Ah?"

When he coughed, a blood clot spilled from his lips.

Kuze slowly looked at Zenjo.

Zenjo was flipping "Hekireki", with just his right hand.

Before he knew it, he held another saber in his left hand. That pierced through Kuze's chest.

"Oh, wow...!"

Kuze distorted the edge of his mouth when he heard Shinohara make a panicky voice.

"Hey, Shinohara. It's a pay cut to have a saber stolen from you."

When Zenjo drew the saber, Kuze sank into place.

The blood was overflowing. The color of his face was white and transparent. It was clear to everyone that it was no longer useful.

Still, Kuze was somewhat satisfied. He looked at Zenjo and laughed weakly.

"After all... you are amazing, Zenjo-san. I couldn't get over you."

"Kuze."

There was no anger or sadness in Zenjo's expression, just confusion.

"What did you want to do?"

"What?"

Kuze shook his shoulders and laughed. Eventually the laughter turned into a cough and the exhaled blood created a series of stains in the alley.

"I wanted to. A real and potentially deadly battle with Zenjo-san."

Breathing out, Kuze fell onto his side.

"It was fun."

That was the last word from him.

Zenjo, holding a bloody saber, shot a confused look at Kuze's corpse.

[lore-of-the-silvereyes-rwby]

Ironwood Summary

Here we are at last the final conclusion of this long character analysis series, for now. This is mostly going to be my own opinion of the character based on the research I did for the analysis. As well as some ideas of what may happen to the character in future volumes and overall standing of what the character was always meant to be and represent in the rwby narrative. Also keep in mind that this is only an analysis of Ironwood’s character pre Volume 8 so there won’t be any spoilers used in this analysis or summary

(Before we begin i want to thank @spacecapart for his art to be used in this summary as i feel this piece summarizes how i feel about Ironwood)

When I started researching and writing on July 31st 2020  for Ironwood and the months that followed I feel like I have gained a better understanding of what exactly Ironwood’s character was meant to be while making sure my overall opinion of him wasn’t biased but honest and neutral. 

For the most part Ironwood’s life was just sad because, well it was never really his to begin with, since he pretty much had no say in it. Based on what I saw and learned about him with the help of additional lore as well as the current story Ironwood was just a tool and a plot device in the narrative.

He started as a tool for Mantle(pre Atlas) which planted the seeds that made him this cold inhuman person that we see at present due to its old toxic ideologies of imperialism and militarism combined with a Nietzsche's philosophy that survives and thrives through Ironwood once he become a de facto king when Atlas became an official kingdom.

Then he became a tool for Oz to protect and safeguard the current status quo without benefiting from it. Though it was with good intentions Ironwood couldn’t help but feel insulted that he was being restricted and kept in check by someone who does not share his belief or ideals of what he considers right even though they weren't his beliefs or the best to begin with.

Finally after all was said and done he became a tool for the very enemy that he swore to fight and defend against. Due to his toxic upbringing in Atlas and his bitter resentment for Oz he tried to take matters in his own hands only for it to backfire immensely into the events that we see in the show. As I Stated in “The Hero that was never meant to be” Ironwood was more or less the most prominent catalyst for all of the events and conflicts in the show that Salem took advantage of and prospered from simply due to Ironwood’s elitist and violent mindset.

All of this just contributes to Ironwood being a plot device since that he’s essentially just a philosophical mouthpiece for Atlas as the show has somewhat made it clear that he is basically the physical embodiment of Atlas if it were a person with both a voice and need to survive. Which wouldn’t be so bad if Atlas wasn’t the Remnant equivalent of a fasciest imperialist dystopia. Most of Ironwood’s character flaws mostly stem from the fact that his is simply the product of his origins and refusing to change or find a compromise for the better.

Another thing that I believe should be taken into consideration is his overall effect in the plot. Added by how the narrative has been structured with its main conflict I think it's safe to assume that no matter what, Ironwood was always a character that was set to fail ever since his introduction. This is mostly due to the fact that most if not all of his power comes from control and authority over others. As well as his lack of actual experience when it comes to war and conflict. 

As I stated in I am power with my own estimate of Ironwood’s age(47-50) based on his rank’s promotion requirements he has at least 30 years of experience from both his huntsmen and military career: 34 if we were to count his academy days of training. Now you're probably asking; “If he has that many years of experience in his career, then why are you saying he has none?” Well it is quite simple based on 2 factors; his professions and the time that he was born in.

At present he is both Headmaster of Atlas academy and the Atlas equivalent of the joint chiefs of staff of the Military. I think it's logical to assume that Ironwood gained the status of Headmaster first and General later due the needs of Oz. Given the importance of the relics hidden in the academies it would be a pragmatic choice for Oz to ensure that there was always a guardian and supervisor over the vaults as well as training the worlds next gen huntsmen(the agreed upon nuclear deterrent). 

Since his profession shifted from field combat to school administration upon becoming headmaster most if not all of Ironwood’s career from this point on saw very little combat opportunities and would soon be filled with politics once he became General further diminishing his combat skills. Also since Generals are the face of the military they mostly handle diplomatic and public affairs as well as deal with civilian contractors to ensure the military has the resources and gear needed to sustain itself.

This means that Ironwood went from fare soldier, to desk jockey, to financial benefactor throughout the entirety of his 30 year long career. But the two thirds of his later career  basically had no relevant or beneficial experience that would be suited for the war that he had been preparing a long time for. Ironwood’s lack of practical experience is also more damaging when you realize that the very little he did have also wouldn’t be of much help in the first place as well.

This is mostly due to the fact that Ironwood was born at the beginning of the high golden age of peace and prosperity for Mantle/Atlas and all of the concerning conflicts happening at least 5 years before the show’s start very late in his career at an estimated age of 45, with the white fang terrorists groups targeting SDC assets that he wanted for war. 

Also his career at that point most likely focused on policing and enforcing Atlasian laws rather than doing actual combat and even then he was trained to fight grimm instead of human combatants and even if he had to fight people they most likely are that of combat inexperienced and petty criminals that wouldn’t actually put up that much of a challenge and even then most of the fighting was done by disposable robots that he can command  with the press of a button.

Overall Ironwood was really unprepared to even fight anyone in general, let alone wage a war against Salem. Even if he had powered up that army to the maximum it really wouldn’t solve anything. Ever since the first episode of the series the message was clear; You're not going to win with just strength and power alone, but with acts of mercy and honesty. As well as just enjoying the simple things in life and just simply living life rather than just surviving. After all this time Ironwood forgot to live life and be satisfied with what he had. Because of this he’s just going to keep on pushing the limit until he loses everything that he has and drag everyone else with him. Simply because he wouldn’t admit to himself that he has no idea about what to do or accept that he wasn’t the most important piece on the board.

Which sadly brings me to the very likely truth that it is guaranteed that Ironwood’s part and time in the story is coming to an end and his death is drawing near. This has been foreshadowed in the beginning of volume 6 where the true plot and crisis of the story had basically made Atlas and by extension Ironwood irrelevant to the story when it's been made clear they can’t just simply kill Salem and win with brute force as he had hoped. Because of that Ironwood was no longer important to the story as they show and fandom have hyped him up to be. Even if he still had an actual role in the plot I’m afraid to say that Ironwood’s story (even if it wasn’t that much) has already been told and judging by the direction he is going by it’s only going to get worse for his character (moraly wise) to the point that his death may be a blessing in disguise for remnant.

To start we need to look at the essential core concepts that make up Ironwood’s character. If we remove all of his actions and focus on his archetypes we get a character that is A) Half robot, B) the de facto leader of an inefficient military(let's be honest it's just a glorified security force for rich douchebags.) C) A school principal and D) someone who essentially hails from what can be considered the most evil and inhuman kingdom of his world that values power and is placed into a story and conflict where none of those things even matter given what we know about the true stakes and consequences of the plot and this is essentially all that we even know about him in relation to the story.

Which brings me to this point that in my opinion he wasn’t much of a character to begin with. This is mostly due to the fact that we really don’t know anything about him besides the summarized 4 points from the last section. We don’t know anything about him like how he became involved in the plot, how old he is, when and what caused him to be a cyber, does he have anyone outside of work or any family that he cares about and more importantly why does he fight in the first place and what motivates him to do so and what does he hope to gain? These details to me are important as to give depth to a character as to better understand why they are the way they are. Otherwise they are either a philosophical mouthpiece or a living ideological caricature. As I stated before in Ironwood’s case he is just that for Atlas, just a simple tool that it can use for whatever it needs.

Which also brings up another subject towards his contributions to the plot; What exactly can he do and was he really even that important to begin with? As I stated before Ironwood really doesn’t have much to offer besides the Military which has been proven to be useless and unneeded. But if it was to be needed that doesn’t automatically mean Ironwood should be the one leading it. For example should he be removed from power and replaced and the heroes really need the military wouldn’t it be simple just to involve the new commander and chief or appoint someone they can trust to ally with them. So yeah the military part as well as the academy are what give an individual like Ironwood any relevance but that doesn't automatically mean they’re that important or crucial to begin with.

Simply put Ironwood has always been a character in the wrong genre. Had he been placed in any other circumstance he may have had a point and could have succeeded but in the case of his story he doesn’t have one. Ever since his debut he has always been this source of contradictions and antagonism and contrast when it comes to how the world and characters have been set. Due to this Ironwood has always been this source of escalation and conflict as he only follows his own beliefs and tries to force others to comply with them. As well as the truth that he really has no idea of what to do since he was never really prepared to handle anything like this and added by the fact that he won’t admit or consider the possibility that he is not that needed or important. If he continues on with this type of thinking it's only going to warrant his end as simply put by Oscar he really is just as dangerous as Salem.

Before I explain his overall purpose and status in the Narrative I want to go over several ideas for what may be next for Ironwood throughout the rest of the series which will be explained further by the reasoning I will use in the narrative part. 

Fate and status for Volume 8 and the rest of the series

Death

I think it's safe to say that Death flags have been hovering over Ironwood for a while or at least since Volume 7. But is it certain? Most likey. I say it’s near mostly due to my belief that his story has essentially been told and he really doesn’t have anything left to contribute to the plot at this point. The impact of his death whether it will leave a positive or negative impact remains uncertain. But the way of his death to me is certain; he’s going to die by the hands of another character(specifically a hero). I know most people would have hoped for a heroic sacrifice or a redemption by death but I don’t exactly see Ironwood doing such things. (Which I’ll explain in the next 2 bullet points)

If it hasn’t been made clear Ironwood has made more enemies than allies simply due to his inability to compromise or let go of his Atlasian ideals and ego. As well as his refusal to accept the fact that he really isn’t that important or necessary in this conflict or at least in the way he wanted to be. If he further descends into his own little world Ironwood is going to cause more problems and do more damage that can never be undone and the only way to stop it would be if he was out of the picture. Because of this Ironwood is likely to die in V8 or by the end of the Atlas arc but it is also possible that he may die at another point later in the series.

Redemption Arc

The chances for Ironwood’s redemption are slim but they’re there, but probably not in the usual way that everyone expects to happen. To help clarify the possibility of redemption we will be using the trifecta structure of redemption arcs. This includes; How the character sees himself, how they see the world, and the stakes and how they change over time. As well as the Scale and Values of his motivation. To help better understand let us take a look at Ironwood’s motivations and goals from V2 and how they contrast and differ from V7 Ironwood.

Volume 2 Ironwood’s motivations upon first glance are simple; stop the threat and ensure stability and security. However if you watch closely there is an ulterior motive. From this we can determine the true Values of his goals and the Scale of what he is willing to do to achieve them and they go as such;

His values as of V2 are security via large Military foundations and amassing complete control and influence over forign nations while promoting the agendas of Atlas imperialism.(similar to the Galactic empire in its early years from Star Wars) With the scale showing that he is willing to go to such lengths as propaganda and political manipulation and betraying allies to get what he wants(the greatest example of this being subverting control from Ozpin)

From this we know that Ironwood sees himself as this perfect savior that can do no wrong and should be the one in charge. While his views of the world being that everything is below him unless they match those of Atlas. With the stakes at the time being the possibility of losing imperial expansion and the threat of domination from a superior force that could shatter the foundations of his ideology and culture. 

While Volume 7 Ironwood’s motivations being; whatever it takes to preserve his perfect and ideal society even if it means sacrificing everything else before his valued culture is destroyed.

The values of this Ironwood definitely differ from previous versions of the character. As V7 Ironwood’s motivations have shifted from saving lives and defending them from Salem to preserving the very little bastion of control and authority that he has over Atlas. With the scale showing that he is willing to turn on allies and go as far as to abandon a whole heavily populated city and potentially the rest of the world in order to preserve the one thing that he has complete and unconditional control over.

Because of this a lot of Ironwood’s views have changed by the end of V7. 

Due to his streak of recent failures his views of himself changed from being the perfect leader that he thought he was, to accepting reality that he isn’t said leader and is prone to failure. However because of that thinking he no longer feels that he should hold himself to that set standard anymore and do what he thinks is needed to get his desired results. Which leads to the fact that he still views himself as the one that should be in charge but this time he does not feel compelled to be fair or considerate of either allies or people.

His views of the world really haven’t changed as much. He is just more honest, open and direct about his views by V7’s end where it's pretty clear that he values his military industrial complex that is Atlas over people's lives regardless of their affiliation.(It should be noted that Mantle is still apart of the Kingdom of Atlas as a whole so consider the fact that he is abandoning the part of it he deems is an acceptable loss without even trying to save it)

But the greatest and significant of changes for Ironwood in the plot are the stakes. Prior to being told the truth about Salem’s immortality he honestly thought that he could win and kill her and be free to pursue whatever task he could set his mind to now that she was gone. After being told and with the clear indication that his power(Atlas) was at risk he essentially is doing what raven did; cut his losses and settle with what he has and run. As such the stakes for Ironwood at this point are to preserve the very little power and control that he has currently at his disposal and sacrifice and do whatever he can’t to maintain it even if it means letting the rest of the world die or be under Salem's control.

This is just speculation but Ironwood’s chances for redemption are pretty slim but not impossible. But the key start and major factors to make that redemption possible is for him to yield power and let go of Atlas. As I stated before, Ironwood relies heavily on his control over Atlas as he believes it to be the only means to maintain and sustain a war as well as the only way of  enforcing his authority. To reiterate Ironwood true power and relevance to the story is his complete and unchallenged command over the Kingdom of Atlas and at the risk of sounding cliche; “All who obtain power are afraid to lose it even a hero” If there is to be any hope of defeating Salem and or maintaining peace in Remnant it can not happen with Ironwood being in power. Which may be more difficult than it seems which leads us to the possibility that he may not be redeemed and should he live past the Salem conflict with this type of thinking.

A New Enemy

For a character to be redeemed the character needs to want change for better but given his personality and recent events Ironwood at this point doesn’t feel or believe that he should change as he now has an ends justify the means mentality with the belief that he is this grand savior believing his way is the only way. Because of this it is very likely that he may stay an antagonist throughout the remainder of the series and possibly long after the main conflict.

The Third Faction; Okay I think it's a safe bet to say that no matter what Atlas was always going to be an antagonistic force that was being set up as early as V1. And unfortunately for Ironwood he ended up being the face and voice of said force that was there before he was ever given a name or a design.

Because of this setup it is possible that Atlas under Ironwood will become its own faction that may try to counter salem but at the same time will possibly sabotage the allies aka the main heroes and the rest of remnant since Ironwood’s paranoia has increased to the point that he doesn’t trust anyone anymore and most likely will reject any offer of aid or promise of an alliance  since Ironwood believes his in own hype that much that he will eventually become a problem that has to be stopped which will possibly lead to the end of Atlas. Which brings us to what might happen to the character post Salem and Atlas.

Post Salem Insurgency; This is speculation but it's possible that after Salem is defeated and Atlas is destroyed he would continue to be a threat for the rest of Remnant as he will be forced to answer for war crimes and step down from power with the possibility that he may never obtain it again. 

Given what we know of his personality Ironwood isn’t the type of guy to yield power or think he did anything wrong due to his ends justify the means montra. As such in the years following Salem's defeat and the possibility that Atlas may no longer exist or at the very least no longer subservient to Ironwood’s authority its most likely that he might end up in charge of a paramilitary consisting of the very few soldiers that are still loyal to him and start raiding and terrorizing settlements, cities and kingdoms all over remnant just to rebuild his military complex and infrastructure as a means to reclaim the status and power that he was stripped up.

How and why any of this would happen if it ever does is debatable but should it come to be Ironwood is going to need to compensate in order to survive if he becomes a legitimate threat which brings us to a very likely scenario based on his original inspiration 

Full Cyber

Given what happened near the end of V7 and recent V8 concept renders combined with the Tin-man inspiration I do believe that there is a very likely scenario that Ironwood will be more machine than man at some point in the series assuming he doesn’t die yet. This is pretty much a given scenario due to his favoritism for machines than people and his new found ideology that humanity is weakness now it is very likely when given the chance that Ironwood will willingly become full cybernetic(Possibly to the point of just simply being a brain in a new metal body)

 While this isn’t exactly an ideal outcome for the character but at the same time this would actually make Ironwood a credible threat as he would now be able to enforce his authority on his own now without relying on others to do it for him. Based on the research from the I am power post Ironwood is relatively a very weak character in comparison to a majority of other characters that we have seen so far and this is especially true when compared to the villains and main heroes. One key aspect to remember is that Remnant didn’t need the military only Ironwood did because on his own he’s screwed no matter what the situation.

Ironwood relies to heavily on his Army as it is the only thing that gives him some ambiance of a fighting chance but ultimately he is very ill suited to lead and manage said army that when you think of it are possibly full of people that are probably more capable than him as well as able to back up and defend their position of power on their own. Whereas Ironwood can not if he were to be overthrown by the military. In other words a fully cyberized Ironwood would actually be beneficial for him as it would make him a formidable threat beyond just simply being the guy who has the world's only military. Depending on what kind of enhancements he can get he would at least be on par with characters like Ruby Qrow and Yang and at the very best on the level of pre maiden Penny. Because as he is right now Ironwood would surely die if he were to face any character that is not within his capabilities. But this is my theory and observations but until we see more Ironwood’s best bet is going full cyber.

Role in the narrative & what we can learn from Ironwood

To start I think it's pretty clear that Ironwood in narrative is just a foil for most of the characters in the show. Especially with greater comparisons and emphasis on these 3 characters; Ozpin Ruby & Salem. While at the same time he is also the character representation that embodies Atlas the most and as such much about what we know and learned about Atlas is mostly due to Ironwood’s actions as he is the culmination and development of Atlasian culture. Unfortunately though this as far as his character was ever going to go. Which makes it all the more tragic and sad when you think about the role that he was supposed to serve.

We will first be breaking down each Foil comparison between Ironwood and the 3 prominent characters to plot as to better under his place in the narrative.

Ozpin

Of all the characters that exist in the RWBY story I do believe that Ironwood tried to emulate and be his own version of Ozpin(or any past incarnation). However unlike Ozpin Ironwood is biased, lacks actual experience and above all takes shortcuts to get faster results at the expense of others. I know that this mostly stems from good intentions but what exactly qualifies Ironwood to even think that he should be the one in charge to handle this Salem conflict. This is one of the greatest problems that is addressed in the show about Ironwood. He really believes that it's his destiny to lead by replacing Ozpin and win.

 But I ask again; What exactly can Ironwood do that would qualify him to even be worthy to take up Ozpin’s task?

That's just it really, there is nothing about him to warrant such a thing. When it comes to the foils between the 2 it's about being this Big Good character that should lead and the themes of Grey morality that R.T. has tried to implement into the show. But when it comes down to it Ozpin is the true Big Good while Ironwood was simply a pretender. Ironwood has always been a narrowed focused character that cares about the conflict itself instead of the people that are caught in the crossfire. And unlike Ozpin who has based all of his decisions and plans from experience and human nature, Ironwood had based his for a need to simply be right and in control.

In short Ironwood had wanted to be the next Oz as he believed he was more suited to do what Ozpin couldn’t even though he lacked the skills, experience, and power to do so which brings us to the next foil. 

Ruby Rose

This might be stretching a bit but when it comes to the plot there is no greater foil between characters than who is the real hero of the story. In this case is the hero of the series Ironwood or Ruby? To help answer this inquiry we need to know what exactly a hero is. Webster's dictionary defines a hero as a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent, endowed with great strength or ability.

While other sources would say what qualifies  A hero can be as simple as a person that saves lives and stuff, but a hero can be anyone that does something they have fear of but are brave enough to still do something. Bravery is usually the biggest trait of any hero. This person has usually overcomes huge obstacles to survive or to rescue others.

A hero is selfless, a genuinely good person, and someone gets the undivided attention of all of us and causes change.

A hero takes action to help others at considerable risk to themselves, however, if that action also helps themselves, then they are not a hero because they are acting out of self-interest. Courage is admirable, but unless it involves risk or sacrifice in order to help others, then it isn't heroism.

So in short the true hero of the series is actually Ruby not Ironwood or any other character in the series. Not because she is one of the main characters or because this is a story from her perspective but because she has the ideal and pragmatic skills and abilities needed to handle the current situation of the plot as well as doing what Ironwood has failed to do himself confront fear and be brave. As I stated in paranoia over reason most if not all of his choices have been based on fear rather than actual logic, reason, or bravery. Which is further highlighted by facts discussed in I am power that Ironwood is really nothing without the military and doesn’t stand a chance on his own.  

This is indefinitely a stark contrast to ruby as she has proven since her introduction to be capable of handling the threat of Salem as she has the talents skills abilities power and above all the spark that inspires others that compels them to do great things for the right reasons which Ironwood failed to do as all of his action have had a certain goal that would only benefit a certain few with him being the one who would benefit the most. This is mostly due to how the 2 have responded and chose to handle the situation. 

When it comes down to it the main plot is defeating monsters that dominate the world who happen to have a leader controlling them. Remember the whole reason why Salem is even a credible threat is because she can control said monsters and the first premise before she came on screen for the first time was learning how to fight grimm. This is something that Ruby was training and preparing for since she was a kid with the added bonus of having the powers needed to handle the situation with ease while Ironwood has only been preparing for a war with other people rather than monsters and crush rebellions rather than being a guardian peacekeeper that Oz meant for him to be.

 Because of this Ironwood has contributed more to the problem more so than Ruby did as his actions were done in favor of Atlas and his own self interests were as Ruby makes honest mistakes out of ignorance and optimism. Which brings me to the next foil that Ironwood shares more qualities with than anyone else

Salem

I know I'm going to get a lot of heat for this but if you think about it Ironwood is basically a syfy dictator version of Salem’s fantasy dark lord. Face value it doesn’t seem likely but given what we know about their current lore, history, personally, and world building these two can be twins to some extent. The examples are as followed;

They’re both headstrong and blunt individuals who go too far in their endeavors when simple and easier solutions were present

They’re both isolated however Salem is isolated by circumstance and force while Ironwood is isolated by choice and paranoia which is ironically the results of their cold upbringing and history

They both lead organizations with questionable intentions that border on dark and immoral with goals that are based on self entitlement rather than rightfully justified or earned

And to top it off they essentially command armies of soulless killing machines

From these examples we have plenty of foils between the two with them being pride, isolation, tragedy, authority and probably the most important foil in regards to the plot War & Conflict. However when it comes down to it Ironwood is on the short end of these foils when compared to Salem. 

In terms of tragedy these two have let their past misfortunes dictate and influence their decisions resulting in a sense of entitlement that they have been wronged now the world has to compensate them for things to be right. For Salem she had a cruel upbringing for unknown reasons and life being unfairly cruel while Ironwood was lifely forced into servitude and was never really himself as he wanted to be. Salem’s tragedies are the result of grief and dealing with forces that she couldn’t comprehend. While Ironwood’s is the result of unchecked ambition and ignorance.

Similar to Oz, Salem has more experience being a leader that can exert their authority and will over others while Ironwood lacks the experience and therefore can’t do the same. The Grimm under Salem’s command are more of an oppressed hivemind that she leads with little to no resistance unlike her human subordinates. Thus Salem has more direct control and authority over those she commands and has the abilities necessary to keep them in line with her goals. While the people under Ironwood’s authority have a voice and mind of their own that don’t align with his ideas. Due to this he isn’t much of a respected leader as he thought he was. Because of this Ironwood is mostly kept in power by rules and regulations with everyone blindly following suit. 

 As for war Ironwood was without a doubt unprepared for it. This is mostly due to 4 reasons;

He had no idea of what he was doing

His opponents are of better a quality than anything he can make or round up

He was preparing for the wrong war that should never have come to pass.

He was to prideful and sure of himself that nothing can go wrong

When it comes to the 1st reason Ironwood was more or less a pseudo soldier in a time where militaries are pretty much obsolete. This is because militaries are used as power projection of a nation and convey the message to another nation to not cross them. Due to the timing there was no real reason or excuse to justify having a military during a point in time where people are more interested in developing a culture and living life rather than fighting in needless conflicts. As such there was no practical reason, competition, or threat to justify Ironwood’s demands for a large military when he came to power or ensure that it was of a better quality than whatever hypothetical enemy that he would face.

Salem on the other hand has had experience commanding armies before and probably has instigated several wars and conflicts prior to the founding of the current 4 kingdoms thus Salem would have at least accumulated centuries to millenniums of war experience that surpass Ironwood’s brief 30 years of service in the Atlas military. Given that Salem was already a crafty and manipulative person during a time when gods were still around, she most likely would have seen the mistakes and flaws that Ironwood has made and exploited them.

Leading into the 2nd reason Ironwood was pretty much in command of a terrible military. As stated in the 1st reason there was no real threat or competition that encouraged those in power besides Ironwood to remilterze. As well as the current military most likely being filled with people who don’t want to fight a war and most likely enlisted for economic reasons. Because of this and his paranoia Ironwood had to find a surrogate army to prepare for his war that in his mind could happen at any time. However this resulted in cheaply made Androids that can be assembled fast for quick deployment. Due to this Ironwood traded quality for quantity as not only was no one going to fight in his war but believed war was on its way soon. Out of misplaced desperation Ironwood hastily assembled a low quality army that never stood a chance.

In comparison to Salem’s main military force there aren’t that many differences. However the Grimm are slightly a better quality than what the Atlas military has to offer. This is mostly due to the fact that the Grimm are a semi sapient species that are capable of learning and adapting as well as possessing some level of self preservation with individual grimm being around longer than most of their kind becoming even more deadlier than them. While the androids that Atlas uses aren’t as they were made to be cheap and disposable and are mostly effective in large numbers. 

The 3rd reason for why Salem is doing well during this conflict with Ironwood is mostly due to the General preparing for the wrong type of war than the war that he is actually fighting in. After all is said and done Ironwood has solely been preparing for a war with other people rather than for monsters. This is because the Atlas military before Ironwood took charge wasn’t meant to fight a war. Not all militaries are formed or created to defend the people. Atlas is the type of military that serves only in favor of the best interest of the state of government rather than the people. 

Because of this Ironwood had spread misery and divided the people turning them into enemies. Salem would later take advantage of this division that Ironwood created as he was more focused preparing for war than managing the welfare of his citizens. This is speculation but most if not all of the weapons like penny and the Atlesian knights were solely made to fight human opponents as opposed to the grimm that Salem commanded. This is because Ironwood feared and distrusted people more than the monsters he fought.

The 4th and final reason why Ironwood never stood a chance is due to the fact that he believed in his own hype more than he should have. From key dialogues to certain character interactions and in universe lore Ironwood has always presented himself as this towering figure with unlimited power; A god among men so to speak. This shows us that ultimately Ironwood’s ego and pride have been inflated to the point that his overall common sense is non-existent. This is further explored and shown in the control tactics that he uses specifically these ones; Strength and Intimidation in Numbers; 

Some aggressors like to dominate a situation by having a number of associates or friends present to support their position. The superior numbers alone may constitute an intimidating presence. They can also back each other up and challenge an individual in turn during a proceeding. In addition, they may also put pressure on a person to make a decision before they're ready. At worst, the strength in numbers tactic may be used for direct or indirect bullying or harassment.

Ironwood's overall strategy is simply sowing fear and doubt into an enemy that he doesn’t understand with large and unnecessary shows of power wasting resources to cover a wide variety of unknown enemies that pose a threat to him regardless if they are with Salem or not. This is best seen with the thousands to millions of cheaply made androids that are only effective in large numbers and the one ship of the line that was too big to be suited for warfare as they function as more of a forward operating base with their great size giving them the intimidation factor without other supporting fleet vessels like frigates or corvettes.(FYI by my count from V6 ep13 there were at least 41 of those ships hovering above Atlas doing nothing)

This is even confirmed by Ironwood in V3 ep3 where he claims this to be the case with this line of dialogue; 

“The people of Vale needed someone to protect them, someone who would act. When they look to the sky and see my fleet, they feel safe, and our enemies will feel our strength.”

This sort of tactic would probably have been useful if it was applied in a conventional warfare plot with people being his opponent as this is a real life tactic used in militaries and the navy especially in the modern era. The problem however is that the plot isn’t about conventional warfare nor is it a battle between people but with monsters where these tactics are meaningless  to them. These tactics are ineffective when compared to Salem’s psychological hit & run terror tactic being used in a setting like RWBY’s are quite effective and more useful than anything Ironwood can come up with. Even though they rely on opportunity and time to become a practical threat the end result is a huge payoff to the one who applied them with that being Salem. 

To sum it up when it comes to the foils of war between these 2 characters all you really need is the right tactic, strategy or plan and everything falls into place regardless of whether you have an army or a handful of misfits all it takes is careful thought and patience something of which Ironwood has shown to be lacking.

In conclusion what we learn from these foils are Leadership, Heroism, and War and how no matter what Ironwood was always on the short end of these traits and was never going to reach his ideal scenario for each of these ideas as he had set high expectations that were well above his capabilities and now he’s paying the price.

The Atlas Meta Narrative’s influence on Ironwood

Based on my research and what I have stated before; the greatest source of Ironwood’s flaws and antagonism is largely due to the influences of his home kingdom; Atlas. 

Just like Ironwood Atlas is also a foil setting and culture to the other kingdoms and the rest of Remnant. The reasoning for this is best explored in the established lore and other expanded material. To help better understand, here is a brief summarized history and development of the Kingdom of Atlas;

Before Atlas came to be it first started as Mantle who began as a group of desperate people trying to survive. Taking advantage of the cold climate of Solitas they were safe from the Grimm and had an unknown amount of time to develop both their technology and culture without restraint or interference. Eventually this progress was stalled due to a Grimm incident in Mantle that forced the current leaders of the kingdom to make radical and unnecessary regulations that suppress basic human emotions and rights instead of putting the effort to protect the people. 

When the Great war started Mantle joined only to ensure that its like minded imperialist ally Mistral would supply them the resources needed to survive. Because of this and the extreme measures they enforced on their citizens to control them prior to the war Mantle was most likely considered the most evilest faction during the war. When the war came to an end with Mantle suffering an embarrassing defeat it led to an age of cultural segregation and discrimination upon Mantle in the post war era.

Following the war Mantle entered an age of isolation and economic depression due to distrust and suspicion from the other kingdoms as they would only view them as this inherently evil and tyrannical force that can’t be trusted. Because of this the lingering scar of the toxic ideology of pre-war Mantle survived and is echoed in its spiritual successor; Atlas where it continued what Mantle couldn’t survive and thrive under the same core ideology that they had 80 years ago when they were still Mantle with only minor changes made to prevent the other kingdoms to intervene and possibly destroy their so called perfect culture. 

After they lost a scar had remained and an echo was created that still lingers to the present. Due to cause and effect Atlas at its core was developed to be this amoral conservative xenophobic dystopia that was being led by corrupt individuals that were in pursuit of their own self-interests rather than serving their citizens and were kept in power by blind followers that couldn’t see their real intentions. As a result Atlas became a culture of exploitation, expansion, repression, and subjugation for the well being of the political entity that is the state at the expense of its people and others. 

In relation to Ironwood as I stated before is a byproduct of this system and is simply one of a long line of blind followers that eventually supplanted the leadership and chose to continue the machine that is Atlas and replaced cogs needed to keep it running as he was once forced to do throughout his life because he doesn’t know of anything else. 

Because of this upbringing and the history of his origins Ironwood was more or less viewed as indifferent in the eyes of his own people and evil in the eyes of others. Leading to a clash of beliefs within Ironwood that resulted in conflicts with others and the main meta narrative theme that we were meant to learn from him; The essence of Being.

The Essence of Being

Essence is defined as the core nature or most important qualities of a person or thing. Essentially the narrative lesson that we can learn from Ironwood is the age old lesson that has been echoed from R.T. longest running series but with a more individual focus. That's right, Ironwood's journey and arc in the story is an inverse and modification of the classic RVB question; “Do you ever wonder why we're Here.”

But in the case of Ironwood it's more focused on an individual person asking and the age old question of Why am I here and what is my purpose and how do they justify and understand it.

As I stated before Ironwood was simply the wrong character in a different genre from a writing and story perspective. But in universe from the perspective of Ironwood it's simply a matter of him asking; “Why am I alive and here, and why am I this instead of that in a world like this?” At some point everyone questions the reality and circumstances of their situation and it's probably common questioning on a world, setting, and reality like Remnant. For Ironwood it’s possible that he’s asked these questions more than anyone. As for the reasons why he would question his existence go as follow;

Why was I born in Atlas?

How do I prove I'm good when others think I’m evil by proxy? 

Why I’m I so weak when compared to more skilled & powerful people?

Why was I made to be reliant on others that can’t rely on themselves?

I’m I respected only for the rank or the man?

Does anyone really care about me or I’m I being used by sycophants?

Will anyone care when I’m gone?

Why won’t anyone give me a chance?

How do I justify and understand the reasons why I'm here?

Does any of this matter in the end?

The core of Ironwood’s journey, actions, motives, and story wasn’t about saving the world, the balance of grey morality of people, or even the preservation of a certain culture, but instead is about cementing a legacy to escape the harsh reality that everything we do will eventually be undone. It's such a freighting thing to fall but is even more freighting is to admit it

In a way Ironwood's story is somewhat relevant to this line from Monty Oum in regards to immortality; “The goal isn't to live on forever; it's to make something that does.” CRWBY has even stated that Ironwood is a forward thinking individual/ A dreamer if you would. Because of this Ironwood was more focused on where he was heading rather than focus on where he was and what he was doing Causing a lot of problems to happen and escalating events to the point that we see them in the shows present. This oversight and negligence is because he continued to believe that, like everything else in his life, it would be righted by the sheer force of his will.

But sadly he is just only one man put on the world for a brief moment of time that is rather minuscule and insignificant on a cosmic and meta level. Everything changes and legacies are either forgotten or are repeated. In the end time and death are the ultimate victors as they undo everything and the cycle repeats itself for better or worse and individuals like Ironwood are just caught in the middle repeating and doing the same thing that has probably already happened and will probably happen again. All it takes is just a matter of time.

My Thoughts and conclusion

For the most part I was pretty much cautious when it came to the character and felt that he was more or less a side character trying to be a main one. The problem with that however in my thoughts is that well he doesn’t really have much to go on to warrant such a status. As well as how the plot has been structured Ironwood was never going to get what he wants. He may have had good intentions but at the end of the day he is only human with his own wants and needs.  

Overall I do feel that his part in the story is over. Mostly because he tried to take the lead of it. Meta understanding aside Ironwood’s time is coming to an end and I hate to say it but it probably would be for the best. Not just everyone else in the show but for himself as well. As I stated Ironwood’s life is Sad because well it never was really his to begin with. It's illogical because he was ill equipped to be a part of the setting that he was in. His death is more than guaranteed because he has nothing left to contribute to the story that can’t be done by anyone else. At this point with the overall message of death in the show it would be mercy and relief for Ironwood as Death is not the worst thing that can happen to you.

I still hold hope though as I’ve come to understand and see why people are fascinated by his character. But for that hope to be possible Ironwood has to let go of Atlas as it has been the main source of conflict between him and everyone else.

Well that's it I’m done for now as this is an analysis of Pre V8 Ironwood and maybe after V8 I may add more research of V8 Ironwood and see how much i got right in the initial analysis. After doing this I hope to do an analysis on Qrow Branwen and other RWBY characters hopefully in a much shorter amount of time as opposed to the months it took me to do Ironwood.(then again this was my first character analysis) Until then be on the lookout for additional bonus content for Ironwood such as;

Character comparisons from fiction

Character comparisons IRL

How you can fight & Kill Ironwood

A more indepth look of his new cybernetics

What Ironwood should have done

His relationship with other characters

The possibility of an Ironwood spin-off

That's all for now. Let me know what you think and thank you all who helped made this analysis possible.

[bailey-reaper]

The Lord of the Manor (5)

Summary: It is said that you 'reap what you sow', apparently that saying is no different for Grim Reapers...

Content Warnings: angst, xenophobia reference / imperialist thinking + me taking artistic liberties re: the van Zieks family

Other parts: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) |

In the distance Barok could hear voices talking, which only served to confuse him. He was inside Klint's burial chamber, no one else should be here. He opened his eyes, head pounding, and found his confusion grew all the more.

This was not his brother's crypt. It was his own room, yet he had no recollection of leaving the family cemetery or the journey home.

He felt warm and dizzy, and that feeling intensified when he tried to sit up, "...Ugh..." it was slowly dawning on him that he was feverish. Most likely due to the reckless trip he took during a fierce storm.

"My Lord, are you awake?" he heard Harvey's voice.

"... Yes," his croaked, as though his vocal chords had rusted, "... What... happened, Harvey?" no doubt the butler could elucidate him.

"The groundskeeper was tending to the cemetery after the storm and found you collapsed on the floor. He came back to the estate and informed me, I then arranged to have you brought home so that the physician could assess you. Thankfully he does not think it's anything serious, most likely fatigue."

".... I see," Barok laid back in the bed and closed his eyes, his vision was already starting to swim, "... Thank you, Harvey."

"It is my pleasure, my lord, I am glad you are safe... the physician thinks you may have a fever but that you should recover after a few days of rest. Please let me know if you need anything."

"I will..." his consciousness was already slipping; soon enough he drifted to sleep.

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

His sleep was fitful; drifting in and out of consciousness for several hours while his body wracked with freezing shivers and unbearable flashes of warmth. He writhed and groaned as the fever took a firmer hold of his faculties.

"Truly you seem to be suffering, little brother..."

Barok opened his eyes and stared in disbelief at the man sitting on his bed -- Klint. He was sat there, looking over at him with face marred by concern, "... K...Klint?" he uttered, before trying to sit up only to think better of it when his head throbbed sharply.

"Mmm," his older brother nodded, "Truth be told you're hallucinating, but I suppose that's to be expected when you neglect yourself in this manner."

A wry smile tugged his lips; it seemed his own mind was set upon chastising him for his earlier impulsiveness, "... Of course... a figment of my imagination."

"Yes... you've pushed yourself too hard of late, no wonder things have gotten on top of you and now you're feverish and hallucinating."

"..." he felt a strong surge of sadness in the pit of his stomach, "My mind couldn't at least trick me into thinking you were a ghost..."

"You're too cynical for that," the mirage pointed out, "No doubt you'd have tried to cross-examine this situation and forced the truth out of yourself."

It was irksome how accurate that statement was, and how he was incapable of formulating a witty reply to it. Eventually he gave up and muttered, "... Perhaps."

"Undoubtedly," the figment said, "Now, I suppose we'd best get to the bottom of why you're having this moment of delirium..."

"Clearly because I'm feverish," he retorted dryly.

"No..." Klint shook his head, "Clearly you need to do some soul searching. You've lost your way, your feelings of hopelessness have driven you to be reckless and now you don't know what to do with yourself. Perhaps you need to take a step back and re-calibrate, little wolf."

"Nonsense..." he muttered as he draped a hand over his eyes; his forehead was burning, "I... I know precisely what I need to do..."

"Oh really? Well I assure you that clinging to the past isn't it."

".... I know that," but how could he resist? This house was full of memories; it was the last place in all the world where Klint's memory was still a tangible thing that he could hold on to. It was all he had left of him.

"Find something to live for, Barok. You have a chance to turn a new page, to step out of your brother's shadow. You don't have to be a prosecutor. You don't have to be a lawyer. You can be whatever you want."

"Whatever I want..." he mumbled to himself as a wave of tiredness washed over him; he relinquished himself to it and drifted into a deep sleep

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

For several days, Barok continued to drift in and out of delirious conversations with a mimicry of his brother. Until his body recovered and he overcame the fever; there was a dull pang in his chest when it dawned on him that he could not longer hallucinate his brother's presence watching over him, but, it was a familiar grief and one he continued to hold in his core.

He decided to take the fever dreams to heart, rather than wallowing, and set about busying himself with numerous distractions; a main one being repairing the old family estate. It had been refurbished sometime during his grandfather's lifetime, but it seemed the work had been rather shoddy.

In between the renovations, he engaged in correspondence with a few individuals in London, including members of the Prosecutor's Office, and dabbled in stocks to maintain the family's wealth. His employment as a Prosecutor was hardly a king's ransom, but it had been an impressive wage and he was conscious to avoid squandering his family's assets while he languished in a malaise.

For a few years that became his routine, and it was a reasonably comfortable one. He enjoyed the Devon countryside atop Black Gale and distracted himself with a mix of physical and cerebral activities. Yet, it felt profoundly empty to him; there was an acute sense of wistfulness at his core and he knew precisely what it related to.

He had geared his entire life for a career as a lawyer, and the part of his mind that had enjoyed the intellectual rigour found his current life far too humdrum. Of course he still read the Legal Reports not long after they were handed down by the Courts, out of a 'healthy curiosity', he told himself, but reading about the law was nothing when compared to actually practising it.

The anecdotes he received from his peers in the Prosecutor's Office did little to slake that innermost wish, in fact they only stoked it more. But he resisted by reminding himself why he left in the first place.

Should he return, the Capital would once more be swept up in its 'Reaper fever'; the press would fixate on his every move, the criminal underbelly of London would sharpen its knifes and perhaps this time manage to get his eyes... Fear had no part of it, for he did not fear death, but it grew wearisome to be so fetishised by the world at large and all it did was remind him all the more that Klint was not here.

Klint was the one who had inspired such a fervent love of the law in him; his righteousness, his acumen, his talent for public speaking... every time he'd watched his brother in court he'd fallen in love with the law a little more, for it embodied the very things his brother stood for. Or, that's what he'd wanted to believe.

The truth had been a bitter pill to swallow – for, while the law had the best of intentions, it was a clunky machine that often failed to work at the moment where individuals and society at large most needed it. Loopholes and the unjust were constantly undermining it. He felt the dichotomy between reality and idealism keenly. He had often equated the Law with Justice, but sadly the two things were not synonymous.

Sometimes he wondered how Klint had coped with that knowledge, for he saw his brother as a bastion of justice and a man of integrity who would no doubt have been just as aware of the law's failings as he. How he longed to ask his brother now that he had the benefit of practical experience.

For several years he maintained his distance from London and the law; many among the aristocracy gossiped, from rumours about his death to wild theories about his having eloped to America to marry into some wealthy entrepreneurial family, but for the most part he ignored them too. The only time he deigned to mingle with the other noble families was when such was demanded of him as master of the house.

One day, however, a letter arrived from London that piqued his interest to the point he could no longer resist it.

Magnus McGilded was becoming an increasingly brazen problem for the capital. He knew the moneylender had something of a reputation, one that caused misery among the desperate and unfortunate who had fallen upon hardtimes; but it sounded as though his activities were causing more angst than ever before, not least of all because he continued to evade the Courts through underhanded means.

Of course, his friend opined, it was not possible to prove that Magnus McGilded was bribing the Jury, buying witnesses and a catalogue of other dubious evasive tactics; but nor could anyone explain why entire cases were dropped at the last minute or why the police had failed to locate key witnesses until they themselves appeared from nowhere with vital information (in McGilded's favour).

It irked him to his core as he read of the various trials that had collapsed, and for the first time in a long while he felt a strong desire to do something. To bring the rodent out of his labyrinth of deceptions and into the light of day. He knew full well it was something that he would be capable of, were he to oversee a future investigation...

His mind raced with thoughts about how to outwit the Irish Shylock at his own game...

Another thing that piqued his interest was a throwaway postscript:

[Ps. We've had word from Lord Stronghart to expect some Nipponese student in a few months time. Apparently there is some cultural exchange afoot and the young man will be studying British law. I can't say I see the necessity, but I suppose our great nation ought to be charitable to those from more impoverished places...]

Seeing that word roused ugly feelings in his core, things that he had managed to keep his distance from for some time; but the anger was never far away. The resentment, like rot, was deep in his soul and it had been left alone but not eradicated.

The near-five years he had spent in the ancestral home was a welcomed reprieve, and served to focus his mind to some degree. He had never lost his passion for the law, and now it seemed there were reasons to pull him back into the foray.

Perhaps it was high time the Reaper returned London...

─────── Fin.

[ahgaseda]

to kill an empire || chapter 25

⇥ synopsis : when you agreed to marry Jaebeom, the heir to a lucrative but not quite legal organization, you never expected the boy who was once your greatest rival would inevitably become your most powerful ally…

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language, recurring gang violence, mentions of drug or alcohol abuse, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Jaebeom opened the double doors and leveled his eyes at the desk before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. It was his now. His proverbial throne.

He brushed his fingertips over the oak, pivoting around the desk and slowly taking a seat.

It was uncomfortable. Jaebeom expected nothing less.

The damned chair was what he had been groomed to take for his entire life and yet it was the one thing in life he dreaded most.

He had spent countless hours thinking of what he would do when he became the head of Lim Corp. The company had been passed down from generation to generation. Always to the first born son.

Jaebeom frowned at that. His father had told him you would be expected to produce a male heir to follow the archaic tradition. Jaebeom never burdened you with that. And deep down, he never wanted to pass the cruel responsibility of this godforsaken company to any child you gave him.

Jaebeom thought about you then; thought about how he had to make things right. You deserved it. You deserved the world and Jaebeom would make sure you had it.

End it all, he mused to himself. With the days he spent tormenting his mind over what to do when he rose to power, Jaebeom decided a long time ago he would rid this world of Lim Corp. Especially when he learned just how far the blood flowed through its foundation.

Jaebeom could never come to terms with his anger when he saw the true face of his family’s company. Which was why he was sympathetic to your current grief of learning the same fate awaited you.

Belonging to luxury and excess came with a heavy price. Usually the cost of one’s soul.

Pulling the phone from his pocket, Jaebeom was about to unlock his screen just to catch a glimpse of you on his wallpaper. Maybe it would give him some fraction of comfort.

The door swung open loudly and Mark rushed inside, disrupting the silence.

Jaebeom frowned. “What now?”

His face was pale, grave. “We have a situation.”

By Mark’s tone alone, Jaebeom leapt to his feet.

You were shocked how quickly everyone sprung into action. The plaza was emptied. A crescent of law enforcement was poised before you. Now dozens of guns were aimed at your chest.

The man with his arm barred across your waist never spoke to you directly. In fact, since his demand for Jaebeom’s presence, he hadn’t spoken to anyone again.

And you hadn’t uttered a single word. The occasional cold bite of the metal barrel against your skull made you borderline catatonic.

Jaebeom thought he was having a heart attack. His blood was pumping so roughly he thought at any minute he would come unhinged at the seams. “Have they identified him? What does he want?”

Mark shook his head, weaving the SUV between cars. “They are running his picture through facial recognition. Nothing yet. If he had a criminal record, he would have popped up by now.”

“He wants you there,” Jinyoung chimed in. “Other than that, he’s made no demands.”

Jaebeom ran a hand down his face before slamming his fist against the car door. “Fuck,” he shouted.

Jinyoung shifted his gaze nervously between Mark in the rearview mirror and Jaebeom at his side, searching for what to say. Ultimately, he consoled, “He hasn’t hurt her. For the time being, he’s using her as a human shield. Police won’t fire.”

Mark added levelly, “Sniper is in place. The moment they have a clear shot, they will drop him.”

Nothing they said helped. Jaebeom gripped his head between his hands. This was his fault. He put you in this danger.

The SUV came to a stop and Jaebeom was out the back before Mark could put the gear in park. Racing to what looked like a police chief, Jaebeom snapped, “What the hell is going on here?”

The officer stood at attention, recognizing Jaebeom immediately, and explained, “Sir, he’s specifically asking for you. He won’t speak to the hostage negotiator.”

“Then, put me in a vest and let me out there.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. Mark had confirmed that was an option if all else failed.

The officer hesitated, but after a short pause, relented, “I can’t stop you.”

As one of the cops tightened the velcro of Jaebeom’s vest, Jinyoung could no longer bite his tongue and raced to his boss, speaking rapidly in hushed tones, “This is insane. They don’t make bulletproof helmets.”

“She’s in this because of me,” Jaebeom replied shortly.

“And so you both have to die now? Is that the plan?”

Jaebeom snorted, running out of patience. “No one is going to die, Jinyoung,” he murmured, almost in chiding.

But Jinyoung could hear the tremor in his voice.

Jaebeom gave his most trusted and loyal companion a nod in farewell, then let the officers lead him.

His only thought was you. He couldn’t see or think past his concern for you. His survival was of no consequence while you were in danger.

The negotiator led him through with a hand on his shoulder, explaining things Jaebeom could try to do to diffuse the situation. And if that didn’t work, he needed to engage this man to drop his guard and give the snipers a clear shot.

Jaebeom didn’t think he was capable of the anger currently pulsing through his veins. There stood a stranger, a man he had never seen before in his life, ready to take you away from him forever.

“Jaebeom…,” you whimpered, legs almost folding with relief at the mere sight of him.

The man tightened his grasp around you, hoisting you back into position. You were the only thing between him and a bullet.

Jaebeom set his jaw. His first instinct was to charge forward and beat the man with his bare hands until nothing remained of him. The gun braced against your head felled that idea.

“Tell me what I can do for you,” said Jaebeom, stifling his rage and holding his hands up at his sides in surrender.

The man held no emotion. He spoke coldly, “I have a message for you.”

Jaebeom deadpanned, “I’m all ears.”

The man waved the gun a little, almost in taunting. “Who lives and who dies?”

Jaebeom set his jaw. “Let her go and you can have me.”

“The second I let her go, that sniper is gonna pop me.”

“That’s out of my control.”

The man looked around, as if considering his options. Then, he jeered, “You made the wrong move, Jaebeom. You should have known he wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

Jaebeom narrowed his eyes, a realization washing over him. With a nod, he proceeded to unfasten the velcro at his sides.

“Jaebeom, what are you…” you spoke frantically.

The man clamped his hand over your mouth.

Jaebeom loosened the last of the straps and called to the winds, “Once and for all. Let’s settle this now.”

You finally struggled, adrenaline kicking in. “Bummie, please,” you cried to him, alarms ringing in your head that the love of your life was in mortal danger.

Jaebeom stripped off the bulletproof jacket, which fell to a little pile by his feet.

“Jaebeom,” Jinyoung shouted from behind the line of officers.

The barrel of the gun was promptly pressed to the back of your head. Your eyes met with Jaebeom’s. There was a chance this was the last time you would ever see him again.

You knew you were about to die. At any moment, the lights were going to go out forever. “I’m sorry,” you called to him.

“I love you,” Jaebeom whispered, for your ears only.

Tears rolled down your cheeks.

A gunshot echoed through the air and your world came to a violent, screeching halt.

chapter 24 ⇤ chapter 25 ⇥ chapter 26

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[snarkesthour]

Happy St George's Day!

· In the midst of a pandemic when schools are all closed, the government votes to not allow free school meals to schoolchildren during school holidays, despite this being the only meal many of them have each day

· Marcus Rashford, a footballer, led the drive to feed the nation’s children, 49% of which live in poverty, and forced the government to provide food for them during the school holidays

· Instead of previous years when vouchers were given to parents that can only be spent on nutritious food, members of government give contracts to friends to provide a week’s work of food costing £5 to schoolchildren for a price of £30. Food is unhealthy and would not last a week

· Parcels also expect parents to cook two tablespoons of rice at a time in the oven and bake their own bread every day, ignoring poverty-stricken families possible lack of access to such equipment

· Wife of conservative MP attacks poor families for eating unhealthy food when healthy food is cheaper, ignoring the fact that not all families have access to equipment needed to store and cook it

· Nigel Farage, head of the Brexit party came out strongly against the government for their stance on starving schoolchildren. Not a good look.

· Another MP came out and said that poor families should not receive government assistance because the money would be going direct to brothels and crackhouses and the parents would spend it on drink and drugs instead of feeding their kids, a dangerous and persistent stereotype of working class people

· For the first time in its history, UNICEF is feeding kids in the UK – the 5th richest country in the world – and the head of the House of Commons accused them of “playing politics” and said they should “be ashamed of themselves”

· J.K. Rowling came out hard as a TERF (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist), writing a book about a serial killer that dresses up as a Muslim woman, which isn’t subtle when you look at her history of transphobia and other “-isms”

She also publicly supported an author who wrote a book about the destruction of Europe by waves of Muslim immigration

· Speaking of J.K. Rowling, the government’s response to the Gender Recognition Act.

· It is now impossible for under 16s to receive reversible puberty blockers

· Wait times at NHS Gender Clinics, of which there are only 7 in the country, have doubled, with wait times now up to 60+ months (5+ years)

· Keir Starmer, head of the Labour (left wing) party says he doesn’t want to get involved in trans issues

· With the loss of Labour, no major party supports trans rights

· Self ID is no longer allowed, meaning every step of transition is medicalised and involves the trans person having to prove that they are “trans enough” at every stage to panels of cis people

· Government wants to invalidate non-enrolled deed polls, essentially making available a public list of every trans person in the UK

· Hate crimes have quadrupled

· Anti-trans campaigners are now setting their sights on trans adults’ access to hormones

· A petition was formed to counter this and was reviewed by the government, who determined that nothing was wrong with the GRA except that it might have been a bit lax.

· The Guardian newspaper ran child labour and child starvation supporting stories

· Internal border now along the border of Kent and lorry drivers must produce travel papers (Brexit Passport) to cross it, placing the county of Kent in a state of “no man’s land”

· Government fails to lockdown on time, every time

· Government refuses to ban conversion therapy in the UK

· Scotland adopts Human Rights of Children, which requires the government to better support children and families, especially those who are poor, disabled, minorities or young carers. England does not

· The government declared that sleeping rough is now grounds for deportation

· Schools reopened several times despite being warned not safe to do so

· The government banned NHS workers from speaking out about COVID

· Do Not Resuscitate orders proposed for those in care homes, with learning disabilities and who are autistic

· The government cut pensions as the COVID death toll rose

· The government learnt about new South-East COVID strain in September and didn’t come forwards until December

· New COVID strain targets kids, teens, and young adults, and yet none of those groups are allowed vaccination unless a serious pre-existing condition is had, even if they are key workers

· Downing Street says UK should be model of racial equality because government report says no institutional racism in the UK

· Report also says young people are young and foolish for thinking it exists and that minorities are superstitious and irrational and are sabotaging themselves out of success

· It came out that the government was given the independent report and rewrote it to the version that was released to the public – the version that says racism doesn’t exist in the UK

· The rewritten report also refers to the slave trade as the “Caribbean experience”, like those enslaved were on holiday

· Woman in London abducted, murdered and dismembered by off-duty cop and when socially distanced vigil goes ahead, police wait until dark before trapping women, arresting them, using excessive force on them, and also destroying memorial

· Bill passed in government that allows undercover officers to commit serious crimes such as murder, torture and rape

· Plainclothes police to now patrol nightclubs and bars due to aforementioned murder by police officer

· Bill passed that bans any protest at all, no matter how quiet, unobstructive or small it is, including single-person protests. Bill also includes a 10 year sentence for damaging a statue, which is a longer sentence than for rape

· TV programmes critical of the government have been cancelled

· Universities have been told what to platform and schools have been told what to teach, including banning material speaking about BLM and calling for “overthrow” of capitalism

· Voting has been supressed, mainly those who are working class or POC

· During protests in Bristol, press was assaulted and pepper sprayed by police and two legal observers were arrested

· Being Roma/Traveller and living the traditional Roma/Traveller lifestyle is now illegal under that same bill that bans protests. They also have to register as such and receive a licence or risk losing their vehicles

· Hours before Eid, lockdown across the UK with no warning whatsoever, meaning people woke up the next morning after visiting relatives to find themselves “criminals”. The country was opened up specifically for Christmas though

· Conservative (right wing) party blamed BAME (Black And Minority Ethnic) communities for dying of COVID more than white people

· Landlords have been protected extensively and renters blamed for living in close quarters or having to take public transport to work

· Conservatives have launched investigation into possible corruption in Liverpool Council. Liverpool is a Labour stronghold and if corruption is found then the Conservatives can seize control of the council. No evidence of corruption is present as of yet

· Military threatened to stage a coup if Corbyn (then head of the labour party) became Prime Minister

· Government orders all government buildings in England, Wales and Scotland to fly the Union Flag every day to boost patriotism

· MPs call for the curriculum to require teaching the history of the Union Flag rather than Britain’s many atrocities

· The first fortnight of April saw a mini heatwave with temperatures up to 20°C immediately followed by snow, and this is ignored in favour of debating “vaccine passports” in order to visit the pub

· UK allows for international summer holidays despite being warned it will cause a third wave, such as the situation in Germany

· Government placed asylum seekers arriving in the UK in army barracks where they were to sleep 24 to a room with no open windows or air circulation, and when COVID inevitably ran rampant, the Home Secretary accused the asylum seekers of not following COVID protocol, such as social distancing

· Several accounts of self-harm and suicide attempts were reported from the asylum barracks and were dismissed

· UK to deport unaccompanied minor asylum seekers

· UK refuses entry into the UK for radicalised teen failed by system who joined ISIS. Case is difficult and controversial because teen wishes to return to the UK temporarily to fight for her citizenship after the UK broke international law by stripping it from her, despite her not having dual citizenship. Argument given was that her parents were from Bangladesh and so she could apply for citizenship there. Bangladesh refused. Teen is now stateless and living in a refugee camp after losing several children, unable to fight for her citizenship to be reinstated.

· Rioting in Northern Ireland, which included the first use of water cannons in 6 years, a bus being hijacked and burnt, a press photographer attacked, and people throwing bricks, fireworks and petrol bombs at police, not to mention some of the clashes happening over a peace wall in west Belfast, completely ignored in British media and then later drowned out by non-stop news of Prince Phillip’s death, obscuring any important news from being heard. Riots were over Northern Ireland’s being a part of the UK

· MPs take vote on whether China’s treatment of Uighurs constitutes genocide. They decide it does, but that it isn’t their job to do anything further

· Home Office released their spending for the 2020 fiscal year. It’s a mess, including over £77,000 at an eyebrow salon in March alone, and £6,000+ in Pollyanna Restaurant which doesn't appear to exist.

· When people started questioning the spending, the Home Office sent a tweet fact checking themselves

· Country reopened over the summer for Eat Out To Help Out, a scheme to boost the economy. COVID cases rose sharply and the government then blamed people, but mostly working class people, for not following restrictions such as only leaving the house when absolutely necessary, after telling them it was safe

· Foreign NHS workers denied COVID vaccinations

· GCSEs and A-Levels were cancelled due to COVID-19 and expected exam grades were to be used instead. Private school students received grades much higher than they were expecting, and state school students received grades much lower, some grades falling as far as an A to an E. This was because the government couldn’t imagine state school students being smart enough to receive the high grades they were predicted to get; after much uproar the grades were scrapped, and a new method was introduced

· BBC offered staff grief counselling following Prince Philip’s death, but not after having to report on the ever-rising COVID death toll

· The COVID-19 Infection Survey closed in mourning for Prince Philip, with workers to contact participants to reschedule visits for “as soon as possible” when they return to work

· Census workers told to pack up and go home and were placed on immediate unpaid leave due to the death of Prince Philip, but told they must make up the hours later

· Conservative MPs lobbied for a new royal yacht after voting to keep schoolchildren hungry (see first points)

· The BBC’s complaint page crashed over the amount of complaints they got of their coverage of Prince Philip’s death. It was covered non-stop for over 24 hours and the page came in at over 100,000 complaints before going down

· BBC also fast becoming politically biased despite their requirement to be apolitical, after cutting out the audience laughing at Boris Johnson on Question Time, displaying Corbyn as a communist figure in front of a prominent piece of Russian architecture, and providing a platform for a Conservative MP to tell a stage 4 bowl cancer patient that her life wasn’t valuable on live television

· On the COVID-19 pandemic, the BMJ, (British Medical Journal) said about the government that “science was being suppressed for political and financial gain” by “some of history’s worst autocrats and dictators”

· Not only did Boris Johnson launch Eat Out To Help Out when he was warned it was dangerous, lifted lockdowns too early when he was warned it was too dangerous, reopened schools when he was warned it was too dangerous, but when scientists said the second COVID jab should be delivered within 3 weeks he decided that was too tall an order and it should be within 12 weeks – after a period of radio silence, suddenly the science fit his plan. No scientists came forwards to defend it

· The Home Secretary, Priti Patel, blamed protestors for protests that became violent from police attacking protestors, bullied staff members under her, bought members of staff in her department, said it was “disgraceful” to topple the statue of Edward Colson, a slave trader, in Brighton because it undermined anti-racism protests, held treasonous meetings with Israel with the plan to divert aid money, and threatened to starve Ireland in order to get them to agree to Brexit

· She also wants to set up Australian-style asylum processing centres on British islands, but the islands she wants are in the Atlantic ocean and over 4000 miles away from the UK. This is because she wants to help asylum seekers enter the UK legally, completed ignoring or oblivious to all the reasons that asylum seekers might not be able to do that, and for the fact that to seek asylum you must essentially walk up the border and ask for it

· The bungling of the Track and Trace system – the government spent £10bn on a system to track and trace the spread of COVID-19. All data was stored on an Excel spreadsheet which developed a technical glitch and many results were lost before the system was scrapped

· As Autism Acceptance month began, the BBC ran a story saying the autism causes fascism, and that an autistic person who had chosen to embrace the ideology was incapable of seeing that a neo-Nazi group he joined was morally bad because he was autistic

[politicaltheatre]

Depraved Indifference

"I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn't lose any voters, OK? It's, like, incredible."

- Donald Trump, at a campaign stop at Dordt College, Sioux Center, Iowa, January 23, 2016

This quote didn’t find its way into the second impeachment trial of the now-former President, but it should have. In a better world it would have, but in that better world a man such Donald Trump would not ever have been elected to any office, let alone one as powerful as president. And yet, somehow he was.

Donald Trump is no longer president, something his defenders, standing before the Senate and sitting among the trial’s jury, have taken great pains to try to focus our attention on.

Note how they talk about the importance of “moving on” and getting over it, thereby distancing us and, far more importantly, themselves from what was done.

Note how they try to frame the charge against Trump - “inciting violence against the government of the United States” - as merely “partisan” and “political”, something devoid of any legal justification or standing, as if the crimes were not witnessed by billions around the world in real time.

Note how, when faced with having to face the morally depraved actions they either encouraged or enabled in Trump and those who followed him, and having to defend their own complicity in the indefensible result, they turn to not even a little bit thinly veiled threats against those daring to accuse. Any retribution, they do declare, any continuation of violence against Trump’s declared enemies, that will be on you.

This has all the subtlety and predictability of a trial in the Jim Crow South, and, given the number of Confederate flags waving inside the Capitol on January 6th, that really isn’t too strong a comparison.

Trump, as anyone anywhere in the world even casually paying attention should know, is entirely guilty of inciting that riot. He spent years cultivating doubt in the electoral system, months casting doubt on the 2020 mail-in voting results, and, finally, weeks spreading blatant lies about voting fraud, ones that he continues to tell to this day.

He did all of this while encouraging and enabling exactly the kind of violence done on his behalf that we all saw on the 6th and, as the House impeachment managers have helpfully shown at length, in the days, weeks, months, and years leading up to it.

“Stand back and stand by”, right? The Proud Boys stuck that on t-shirts.

If the videos the House managers have played have failed to persuade, we tell ourselves, perhaps the evidence of Trump’s Defense and Justice departments undermining the Capitol police and National Guard’s response will. How about a timeline of Trump’s fiddling while the Capitol burned and his own Vice President quite literally ran for his life? No? Really?

You don’t need a lot of time to prepare a case when the defendant has been caught, figuratively, thousands of times in the middle of Fifth Avenue with a smoking gun. Trump’s thumbs offered up hundreds of smoking guns to choose from. Videos of his post-election rallies do, too. The ones he posted that day, hours after the breach, calling the men and women hunting “traitors” of both parties and battering Capitol police with American flags “patriots”, well, that’s a prosecutor’s dream. Or should be.

So, yes, he is guilty. Very, very, very guilty.

Ah, but so are at least three of his jury members: Josh Hawley, James Lankford, and Ted Cruz. They all gave credence to Trump’s lies, they all gave weight to those lies by demanding that the Senate investigate them once more and yet again before confirming the election, and that day they all cynically and repeatedly called for the rejection of President-elect Joe Biden’s victory.  Well, Hawley and Cruz did; Lankford was trying to when he was evacuated.

They were no less guilty of trying to profit from the misplaced and misguided rage of those storming the Senate chamber than Trump, and, if the rioters’ own social media accounts are to be believed, Hawley and Cruz at the very least were no less accountable for them being there. Lankford, it seems, needs to up his social media game.

Those three senators, of course, are not on trial. They are merely jurors charged with deciding the guilt or innocence of Donald Trump for doing what they did themselves. They will be joined in their guaranteed “No” votes by at least 41 other Republican senators who, like them, once again voted to claim that, despite over 200 years of clear legal precedent, this impeachment trial is “unconstitutional”.

It’s no shock that the House managers’ detailed legal history lesson fell on deaf ears, nor is it that those three and other Trump Republicans were caught “reading” during the presentation of evidence. Rand Paul, whose own ridiculous claims about the election and trial have been followed by threats of retaliation, was caught doodling like teen stuck in detention.

This, not anything said by Trump’s crack legal team, is the argument for the defense: they know what Trump did, they know it was wrong, they know what they’re doing, and they know that’s wrong, too. And they do not care. They do not care.

These aren’t stupid people, they’re just dishonest. More specifically, they’re corrupt. What they believe, what they take as a matter of faith, is that they’ll face no real consequences for anything they’re doing or anything they’ve done.

And who’s to tell them they’re wrong? What’s the worse Hawley or Cruz will face? Censure? You can’t shame the shameless. They’ll wear their censures the same way Trump would, as a badge of courage on which they can raise campaign money and, they hope, draw out votes from Trump’s millions of rabidly loyal supporters.

For Hawley, Cruz, and others already campaigning for 2024, that’s all that matters. For them, this is just an opportunity, a means to an end, as they pursue their highly profitable careers in politics. It’s just business. For them, Trump, and every other one in Congress, on TV, and on social media who chose to ignore what people might do if they lied to them and wound them up, and for all of those choosing to ignore the consequences of it now, that’s all this is: just business.

And that’s the problem.

Politics shouldn’t be a business. We know that without even having to be told. When we talk about it, we do so in terms of “service” and “doing one’s duty”, words and phrases that romanticize the selfless nature we want to see in our politics and our politicians. We don’t just do that because that’s how we’ve always heard it spoken of, we do that because we know that the ones who embody that ideal are rare. There’s just too much evidence to deny it.

Go back far as you want, there have been men and women seeking power for the purpose of defending themselves and their friends from accountability. Back in the day, they sought appointments through connections or simply joined the clergy. These days, they run for office.

The political party in this country that currently stands against accountability is the Republican Party. Sure, the Democratic Party has its own sizable share of complicity for allowing the country’s drift into right-wing aggressive selfishness, but, lucky for us, it hasn’t been able to rid itself of its accountable members the way the Republican Party has. Of course, that’s only natural, given the importance of accountability to the political Left.

The last two Republican presidents were elected in no small part because they had a background in business. Yes, they each ran their businesses into the ground, but they ran them.

George W. Bush came into office as a “corporate” president, one who would, we were assured, delegate to those more experienced and skilled in areas where he was…lacking. We waved away his inadequacies and were somehow shocked when he failed in exactly every one of those areas. Still, he and his friends made money hand over fist, so the corporate presidency was good for business, big business, in particular, which got a big bailout.

Donald Trump should have inspired even less confidence, but confidence man that he is, he played enough suckers to get him in the White House. As much pain, suffering, and death as he has caused in four excruciatingly long years, he and his cronies have made out like gangbusters, too. The government they were hired to manage, not so much.

From the start, he and his cabinet secretaries lived by the old rule, “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to get permission”. Not that they asked for forgiveness. That’s for losers. They broke laws, fleeced taxpayers, and resigned knowing that whatever penalty they might face would pale compared to the profits they took with them.

This is the mentality that drives corporate decision making around the world. For them, the adage is a bit more like, “better to settle a lawsuit than risk profits”. They, too, avoid apologies whenever possible. That keeps the damages paid to to victims and their families lower.

Currently, there are companies selling cars, drugs, baby food, and other products that they know are defective and a threat to the people using them. They know this. They know there’s a high risk that people will die, and they do it anyway. Instead of recognizing the threat and stopping, they do cost-benefit analyses to determine the number of deaths from their products they can afford.

This, it’s worth stating, is not capitalism. We may tell ourselves that it is, but that’s just us looking for an easy answer, a scapegoat for our own failures. In fact, this pattern was just as common under communism, too; just ask anybody who used to live near Chernobyl. Mistakes are hidden, a given number of deaths are accepted, and the perception of success and prestige is maintained.

This is corruption, and deaths and suffering caused by a lack of accountability are what corruption does. A death is a symptom, a great, big red flag, something to tell you that something is very, very, very wrong, but how many of those red flags do we see and ignore before we finally stop to ask what it is we’ve been seeing?

How many smaller red flags, such as poverty, racism, anti-semitism, police brutality, injustice, and sexual abuse, do we pass because we’ve just become so used to seeing them? Do we tell ourselves that there is nothing we can do? Do we even ask if there is anything we can do? Or do we, as so many senators are now preparing to do, instead embrace corruption as a virtue.

This is the real threat, a system that accepts this and holds no one accountable, and a culture that pushes back against demands for accountability, embracing the very worst of who we are and what we can do to others just to prove that we can. The result is a flood of childish acting out and a loss of trust in products and services that we must be able to trust because they are supposed to keep us safe.

Is this as great a threat to our society as the January 6th attack on the Capitol? This is that attack. The product failures that led to the attack were political. We have watched as our political and government institutions have failed. We have watched as those entrusted to deliver a product that works and keeps us safe have, again and again, deliberately or not, betrayed that trust. As with any other product sold, each breach of trust carries over into the next, accumulating and compounding, eroding not just our ability to trust those products but all products like them.

Think of the doubts Americans have about the safety of vaccines? Sure, we can chalk that down to internet conspiracy theories and echo chambers if we like, but would they have gained the traction they have in a world in which we weren’t inundated with ads featuring paid-non-attorney-spokespersons asking us if we or a loved one took this drug or that and had experienced one or more life threatening side effects? How many of us heard about the Covid-19 vaccines and asked, How long before we see the ads for that?

For decades, we have allowed ourselves to become a nation of beta-testers, taking on the cost and burden of quality control that the companies releasing and profiting from these products, and these class action lawsuits have become big business as a result. Every new pharmaceutical product that hits the shelves, part of us is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Time and the success of these vaccines should put an end to that, at least for this pandemic, but that we have to do so should tell us about the work we have to do to repair our society, or to build one that can exist without absolving us from being accountable to each other.

Until then, we have other kinds of corruption to face, including one that may be more destructive than anything we’re seeing in the Senate this week.

The Reddit-GameStop insurrection might have been fun to watch from the sidelines, a bit of schadenfreude for those of us on the outside of Wall Street, looking in, but the truth is the hedge fund villains still made their money, and the systemic fault lines this episode exposed should have us all scared and paying attention.

Our economy is overly concentrated in Wall Street’s product and therefore overly dependent on its success and stability. A loss of faith in its product has been underway for years. That’s how you get to day traders trying to take on hedge funds the way they did. This wasn’t David vs Goliath, this was guerrilla warfare over who gets to make the quick and easy profits.

The upside of that is that some of the “little guys” seem to win something; the downside of that is that it does nothing to fix the problems we have with Wall Street. Rather, it only makes them worse, by highlighting how easy it is to manipulate stocks and commodities and how few get to do it and get away with it.

What happens, then, when no one has any faith left in Wall Street? What happens when everyone believes it is nothing more than a casino designed to take money rather than make it?

Well, we’re almost there. We have a massive, growing online gambling industry, and with it an online gambling problem. Sports leagues, some with their own recent histories of cheaters (and worse) getting away with it, have turned their own fans onto gambling as part of the sport. How many of these people, blowing their money on bad beats, think of it as no different than investing on Wall Street stocks?

A better question: What happens to all of those stock prices when everyone, including the crooks on Wall Street, lose faith in that system, take their profits, and leave? An even better question: What happens if they do that all at once?

The answer is: Lost jobs, pensions, food and housing security, and hope.

In other words, 2020 on steroids. That’s what you get with corruption, an environment in which politicians like Donald Trump, companies willing to harm consumers, and right wing domestic terrorists thrive. As long as they aren’t held accountable, they will.

“Bad for the country”, indeed.

- Daniel Ward

[octalove]

VIII: Struck by Lightning

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader makes a confession, and goes on a date. Previous.

TW: Brief mention of gore (just blood)

In the weeks succeeding the Little Italy mission, I found a rhythm in the two conflicting heartbeats of my life. Occasionally, I met with Jason to file down the multitude of criminals who opposed him (it wasn’t all rescuing orphans and kittens, but his justice was fair and swift), and other than that, I carried on with life as normal; both as myself, and Batgirl. It was an inconsistent, exciting balancing act.

I tried to humor Bruce’s transparent attempts to placate me with cold cases, deeming it study. My school work had unsurprisingly lost its appeal, and I found myself rocking in the river banks of what was sure to be a failing grade in most of my classes- though I had yet to run ashore. Yet.

I danced along, despite my reprisal (a lack of sleep, and white lies on either side), and overall there was a certain stalemate. With that, peace. Or at least, the closest I could get.

On a Saturday I happened to have free (to my great relief), I woke up at one in the afternoon, to a blessedly dim day that kept the light in my room dark enough to cradle my lie-in.

I washed the sleep from my face, and stumbled downstairs, muscles sore from a Thursday night mission with Jason at the Port (of which I told my family I was going to a party). Tim was the only one in the kitchen- looking like he, too, had just crawled out of bed. He was eating cereal in silence.

We hadn’t been avoiding each other, per say- just got wrapped up in our own routines. Routines that kept me out of the house, and him trapped within it.

“Morning.” I said.

“Mm.” He replied.

I poured out my own bowl of cereal and settled on top of the glossy white granite. It was kind of a running joke at the Wayne household that you could sit anywhere but the chairs. Even Damian picked up on it- and, naturally, he was the best at it- perching his lithe little form atop the fridge at one point.

Now, Tim and I sat side by side on the countertop, shoulders brushing and spoons clanging against our glass bowls. Nothing more was said, but it was a comfortable silence.

I thought, for a second, about the world he’d been living in for the past few months as November bled into December. About his work and his many, many jobs he had to do. The way he shouldered them all week-to-week. He didn’t have to, but he did.

Tim made me a better person. I thought so, anyway.

But then, before I met him, I was the kind of person who let Carolyn Crawford slap me across the face to cover for someone else’s secret. Now, I was the kind who let other people take the blame for mine. Maybe Tim didn’t make me a better person. Only I could do that.

*

“I need to talk to you.” I said it firmly, and with authority. Mostly to convince myself that I was certain in my intention to go through with it. Bruce eyed me, looking up from his book.

“Alright.”

“...”

“...”

“In private.”

Alfred and Damian’s voices carried through to the living room as they had tea (an evening tradition). Bruce nodded, closed his book, and led me upstairs.

His office was a quiet, peaceful place. Finished dark wood, glass tables, and black leather accents. It was the room in the house that was most furnished to his own private taste, and thus, a glimpse inside was into him. It was mostly predictable; W.E. briefcases, notebooks and pens, case files open, and a map of the city that was displayed behind his desk. But there were other things too; a rubik’s cube half solved on the settee, a magazine featuring Vicki Vale with a pen in her hand and a defiant, head-strong look on her face. A gorgeous trailing point knife that belonged to Damian (probably confiscated).

I sat down in the chair that faced his own; his giant, glossy desk between us. I wanted to be swallowed into the dark leather. I felt like I was back at the shrink.

“Tim didn’t sneak off on the 21st.” I said quickly, cutting off the silence as quickly as I could. “He’s not the one who saw Red Hood kill that guy. It was me. I made Tim promise not to tell. He lied to cover for me.”

Bruce was quiet. He did that a lot; made you wait for him to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours. It all felt the same when he let you simmer in your own mistakes. I didn’t look up.

“I see.”

Silence. A long, testing silence. His irritating little desk clock ticked away.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Very well. You’re dismissed.”

“Really?” I asked. “That’s it? You’re not mad?”

He paused. “Should I be?”

I blinked, gaze falling on the floor. “I put Tim in a really shitty position. He didn’t have to lie, but he did because I asked him to. I’m mad at me.” I admitted quietly.

Bruce nodded pedantically, resting his head on his hand. “Then that’s good enough for me.”

I furrowed my brow. It wasn’t good enough for me. “It was wrong.” I clarified, trying to press for some manner of reprimand that I didn’t truly want, but felt deserving of anyway. Bruce considered this, in his quiet, inscrutable way. After a moment, he spoke.

“Your mothers trusted me.” He said. I knew that. My parents were business-oriented like that. They were pulled together by happenstance, each without family and carving their own way in the world by studying international law, and applying it to companies who could afford private foreign trade, such as Wayne Enterprises. I attended the parties, the galas, standing around in my designer gowns while my moms handed out their business cards and talked about imports. They weren’t neglectful, just distracted.

“I don’t know if you remember-“

“I do.”

And if I had a dollar for every time the cops or the shrink asked me if I remembered that night, I’d buy my own manor.

Bruce Wayne was at my birth. He and my mothers had been business partners for a while by that time. He watched me, dutifully, when my parents went on date nights, and played catch with me when I accompanied him and Dick to the park. He cooked me breakfast the morning after my mothers died.

I knew it wasn’t a random killing, but he didn’t talk about why they were murdered in their own bed until I was fifteen. By then, I was knowledgeable enough to go searching through the police reports on my own. So instead, one night he’d sat me down at the kitchen table, looking at me earnestly.

“You have to understand, Y/N. Your mothers were...” He’d taken a deep breath. Tried again. “They were involved in things. Things I didn’t know about. It made them a lot of enemies.” Then, something harder passed his features. A frustration.

“They were completely blind to the fact that it meant you would never have a normal life. Not as long as they kept it up- that... double life.” I let the statement hang in the air for a time. “That was stolen from you, from the moment they got involved with the Baciu. And I’m sorry.”

It was easy to be sorry. I was sorry, too. My mothers got themselves tangled in Gotham’s heroin trade, and they weren’t careful enough, so they died for it. It was fairly cut and dry. Open file, close case. But the part that was so bitter to swallow was that it happened to me. A fourteen-year-old child creeping into my mothers’ bed because I’d heard a noise, and the re-runs of Ghost Hunter I’d religiously consumed were conjuring movement in the shadows. But there were no ghosts. Just sheets stained with blood that looked black in the darkness. Just the wet, clogged sort of sound when I peeled back the covers, unable to register they way my mothers were bent, and stilled in a way that only death can induce, where just earlier that night they’d been walking and talking. Bringing me Chinese take-out for dinner.

Their death, and everything that followed was emptying. Cracking open a great chasm and bringing death home, into the halls, and into my room. No longer a rumor. It was an empty chair, and a storied space made cold and worthless. It would’ve been easier if they had simply died as a random killing. Tragic, standard, random Gotham City killing. If I had just been that unlucky. If they’d only been struck by lightning. Instead, I grieved twice; once for who they were, and another time, for who I thought they were.

When Bruce adopted me, I became Batgirl. I made it my own vendetta to stop criminals without killing them, because I knew that some- most of them had children at home who would be the real victims if I did.

But then, I thought deeper. More considerately, about who my mothers were. Moreover, who they weren’t. Pearl and gold, white teeth and hairspray. Singing to me, and playing Monopoly, at which they were both so competitive that they had to kiss and make up after every game. Bringing me a strawberry cupcake in bed every year on my birthday. Kissing me on the head. Telling me to be good. Leaving me in that big house. Going off to Port Adams, or Crime Alley. Signing orders. Putting bodies in Finger River.

Nobody’s innocent here, dollface.

“They trusted me.” Bruce’s voice interrupted my reminiscing with the ghosts of my past. “I know their death was hard, and you may still be recovering. I’m trying to do the best I can for you.” He finished. For all the gnashing teeth and avaricious expanses of Gotham City secrets, he looked tired.

“I know, Bruce.” I said quietly. “Me too.”

*

The following Tuesday, I got home from school and started on a mountain of homework I needed to do- some make up work as well. Christmas break was around the corner, and I was slowly losing motivation as the semester drew to a close. I had too many distractions; and tonight was no exception.

Ding.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down, eyebrows raising to find that it was a text from Jason- one that wasn’t just a pin dropped to a location.

Meet me at Twin Sharks. I’ll buy you a coffee.

- What’s the occasion?

No reply. I sighed. I should’ve called him and made him tell me, but I knew that I would go no matter what, so I decided to play the apathy card. Despite my cool response, my heart (the traitor) was fluttering like a bird. Was this about the kiss? Our partnership? Was it an actual, regular date? Or was he breaking it off? My mind raced, and as I pulled together a tasteful outfit and sprayed myself with perfume, I promised myself that it wasn’t for him.

The Twin Sharks was a diner in Upper West Side, near China town. It was nicer than the likes of Sherman’s, or anything else East End had to offer. The late afternoon was unexpectedly bright, clouds parted for a sweet reprieve of gold and blush in the sky. The sun was a striking blood-orange, hung low over the city. It struck a match in my chest- some childish, poetic hopefulness.

The diner’s door jingled, and I scanned the booths and tables. It was a little crowded, but I spotted Jason alone in a booth, his eyes cast down, involved with his phone. I made my way over to him, slipping off my coat and plopping down his opposite.

“Hey.” I said. His eyes fell upon me, and I saw something on his face- maybe surprise, or something to that effect- before he composed his expression into something unreadable.

“Hey.”

The diner had a big, hot pink neon sign that depicted a matching pair of sharks above the counter. Its buzzing glow mixed with the orange gleam of the lowering sun through the windows- it was all very rose-colored.

The waitress put a coffee in front of me, and I got to work on adorning it with the little cream and sugar packets on the table. He watched me do it for while.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothin’.” He said. Then, he reached across the table, and took my hand, pulling it back to him, and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. I was so startled by it that I dropped the sugar packet I was holding. Neither of us seemed to notice. He turned my hand over and placed another kiss in the inside of my wrist before returning it safely to my side of the table. I was certain my face burned like the neon sharks.

“I’m- um- is this a date?” I asked, trying to get him to say something- anything- to get my mind off the way he’d just reduced me to a puddle.

He looked amused by that. “You want it to be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, stirring my coffee. “You invited me.”

He nodded, eyes falling away. “Yeah. I’ve got an update for you. D’amici business.”

“Oh.” By the look on his face, it wasn’t good news.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Perfect. My day’s been a little too good so far.” I said. He slid me his phone- on the screen was an article from the Gotham Quarterly.

Young Bride Found Murdered in Diamond District Estate

I read over it a couple times, brow furrowing. “You mean...“

“Penelope. It happened last night.”

“Shit.” I muttered, scrolling down and scanning through the article. My throat caught as I read over it. She was shot in her bed. “It says there’s no suspects.”

“Course it does. It’s the mafia. They handle things nice and quiet.”

“And I’m guessing you have a few a suspects.” He nodded grimly as I slid his phone back to him.

“One better. I know exactly who did it. I think you do, too.”

I put my head in my hands, mulling over my options. Really there was only one. Penelope’s beautiful, flustered face and apologetic eyes flashed through my mind. Her wind-chime laugh as we ate scones under the watchful eye of her adoring, peculiar grandmother.

“Okay.” I resolved. “Let’s get that girl justice.”

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

The Fetishization of the Working Class

The left is mired in identity politics. While leftists often express their opposition to systems of domination based on class, gender, sexuality and race, they tend to oppose such systems by accepting and reinforcing the very identities created and imposed by such systems of domination. While all such identities are problematic, I believe that none of them is as harmful as the left’s idealized and fetishized identity of “the worker”.

The working class as an identity differs from identities such as identities based on gender and race in the sense that a worker is an actual thing that exists apart from how we define it(as opposed to a “black” person or a “woman”). That being said, the worker only exists as long as he reproduces social relationships that define him as a worker. The moment he stops working he ceases being a worker. But why do I consider embracing the working class identity to be so harmful?

Before we get into that, let’s look back at the creation of the working class and the working class identity. We can trace the birth of the working class back to the dawn of the industrial revolution in England, which needed a disciplined workforce to run the factories that were emerging like mushrooms after the rain. There was, however, one major problem for the owners of these factories: nobody wanted to work in them.

Peasants preferred to work their plots of land, and autonomous artisans wouldn’t dream of submitting themselves to the nightmarish factories. Both saw wage labor for what is is: paid slavery. Unfortunately, the state and the bourgeoisie were determined to turn both peasants and artisans into workers, and they had the tools and the power to accomplish that. Land enclosures robbed peasants of their lands, creating a mass of landless vagrants. Anti-vagrancy laws forced these ex-peasants to chose between being criminalized or reduced to mere cogs in an assembly line. Mass-produced goods out-competed artisans, and the creation of the modern police made sure that the population was proletarianized whether they wanted it or not.

This process sparked a wave of resistance. The most emblematic revolt against the new conditions being imposed was the Luddite uprising, when textile workers and weavers rose in revolt against industrialization and proceeded to destroy as many machines as they could. Eventually, the uprisings were put down and people were forced into becoming workers.

The shared experienced of being forced into becoming workers and of working together under grueling conditions (16 hours work journeys, miserable wages, poor workplace safety, etc) forged a solidarity among the first wave of proletarians, which created the conditions for the birth of the labor movement.

Accepting their new role, workers began to organize and fight for better conditions. Struggles for better wages, working-hours and for the legalization of unions took place, and the tactics of the infant movement began to develop. Working class solidarity grew, and the identity of the worker slowly took hold upon the new class as new ideologies were developed around it. These are the ideologies that eventually gave rise to the modern left.

It is in this context that socialism appeared. As a critique of capitalism emerged from worker struggles and from the thoughts of socialist thinkers, the bourgeoisie was identified as an enemy of the working class. From this perspective, visions of struggle and “liberation” began to emerge. The most well known of these perspectives is that of Karl Marx, which originated marxism. Marx recognized the antagonist nature of the relationship between classes, and sought to create a vision that could lead to a stateless and classless society (which he termed communism). His revolutionary subject was the working class, which Marx believed to be the only inherently revolutionary class under capitalist soiety. The non-workers who were excluded from the system were seen by him as crude “lumpens” with no revolutionary potential.

According to Marx, workers should seize the state through a violent revolution and create a “proletarian” (and socialist)state. With the state in their hands, workers would dismantle capitalism and speed the development of the “productive forces”, which Marx believed are being held back by capitalism. As the socialist society ran it’s course, the state would supposedly become increasingly unnecessary and wither away (although no marxist ever made clear how this process would actually happen).

Bakunin and other anarchists living at that time (correctly) predicted that the takeover of the state would simply create a class of state bureaucrats that would become a new self-serving elite. This critique was essential to the development of anarchist theory and praxis, which views the state as an inherently oppressive institution that cannot be used for liberating purposes.

That being said, both Marx and Bakunin (as well as socialists/anarchists at the time with very few notable exceptions) believed that the productive forces should not only be maintained but also developed. Not only they failed to identify the inherently oppressive nature of industrial technology, they also failed to see that workers can never be liberated as long as they remain workers.

Much time has passed since then, but the left still glorifies and fetishizes industrial society and the working class that keeps it running. Even the vision of the most “radical” elements of the left (contemporary revolutionary socialists and left anarchists)refuses to go further than the idea of a society where the means of production are administered by the working class. But what good is it to get rid of the bourgeoisie if we are still enslaved by work, civilization and industrial technology? Should I be exhilarated at the possibility of managing my own misery instead of seeking to abolish it?

And why should I look upon the working class as “The Revolutionary Class” when the vast majority of the working class would defend industrial society with teeth and nails even though it is the source of their misery? Now, don’t get me wrong. In the struggle between the bourgeoisie and the working class I will always side with the working class. That being said, I cannot envision more than a small fraction of the working class rallied behind a true liberating vision, not when most workers cannot even imagine (and wouldn’t want) a world free from the shackles of industrial civilization.

And how can the “radical left” claim to fight for the liberation of the working class when most workers don’t want to be liberated? If forced to choose between the radical left and their capitalist overlords, most workers will side with the latter (not to mention the increasing number of working class folks who are willing to turn to fascism in response to an increasingly crisis-ridden world). You can always claim that this is simply a matter of educating workers so they can see their own oppression, but it doesn’t change the fact that you cannot speak for those who would never wish to be represented by you. Also, Seeing workers as mere pawns of capitalist propaganda is a patronizing and elitist attitude which denies people their agency as individuals. Yet, such attitude is prevalent among the left.

This is not to deny the social dynamics that are at play shaping people. What we can accomplish as individuals is always limited by our social environment. Yet, if we are nothing more than products of our environment with no individual agency,there isn’t even a point in trying to oppose society.

Either way, it is clear that the left’s ideas about the working class and its revolutionary potential are as irrelevant as their ideas about revolution and “liberation”. The working class can only be liberated to the extent that it is destroyed and transcended. As for me, I will side with members of the working class that are willing to rise up when it suits me, but I won’t let off the hook those that get in my way. As for those who refuse to be molded into workers and are willing to steal back their lives, they can always count on my strength and solidarity.

[misssophiachase]

Prompt: Caroline and klaus as rival lawyers

Thanks anon, this is inspired! Hope you like it : )

Bad Reputation

California Superior Court, Beverly Hills CA - Tuesday, 11 July

“Objection, Your Honor! Opposing Counsel is badgering the witness.”

“Since when did asking a perfectly normal question constitute badgering?” She could feel his blue eyes boring into her, almost like he was trying to remember her naked.

Ass.

“Overruled, Ms Forbes,” the judge replied, not before casting an unimpressed glance in the defense attorney’s direction. “But if I was you, I’d stop talking back, Mr Mikaelson.”

“Apologies, Your Honor,” he said, sending her his signature smirk. “It won’t happen again.”

Ass.

Caroline Forbes thrived on competition which was why she was known as one of the best defamation lawyers in California. Celebrities far and wide flocked to Caroline for her services and winning track record.

Unfortunately, she could see her unblemished run slipping away and it was all thanks to him.

LA Times Offices, El Segundo, CA - Friday 9 April (3 months earlier)

Caroline consulted her appearance in the reflection of the elevator, straightening her black, suit jacket as the floor numbers ascended.  

The opposing counsel in her current case had requested a pre-trial meeting. As much as she loved the adversarial thrill of the courtroom, she wasn’t going to complain if the Los Angeles Times decided to write a big, fat cheque to her client.

Skylar Lopez was a well known Hollywood actress who’d suffered significant financial loss after the Los Angeles Times ran an article asserting she was unprofessional and difficult on set. Caroline had her fair share of questionable clients but she knew Skylar had been unfairly treated.

Caroline had dealt with the Times on a number of occasions and was confident she’d walk out of the meeting triumphant.

Until the tables were turned.    

Walking towards the boardroom, Caroline was already imagining what would transpire. They’d offer a settlement that was too low but would ultimately meet her client’s demand. 

She was just that good. However, upon entering the room, everything changed when she saw him.

His back was turned but, after all these years, she couldn’t mistake those broad shoulders even housed in a grey, suit jacket. Those dark, blonde curls were still slightly unruly like she remembered and she could still recall just how good it felt combing her fingers through them.

Caroline liked to be in control and suddenly she felt like she was in freefall. He turned to face her, almost like he could sense her anxiety.

Between the slight stubble and crimson lips, Caroline knew she was in trouble. The guy could also wear a suit and it should have been illegal given how well it moulded to his toned physique.

“Hello, love.” It was a greeting she knew all too well and immediately transported her back in time to college.

“What are you doing here?” Caroline hoped it didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.

“Is this how you greet all your opposing counsels?” With his left eyebrow cocked, Caroline was trying to pretend it didn’t look sexy.  

“You are not my opposing counsel.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” he replied, sliding a manila folder towards her. “I’m acting for the defense.”

“But how? I thought you were in DC acting for all those questionable politicians.” It came out before she could stop it.

Yes, maybe she’d followed him over the years since law school graduation but this wasn’t the way she saw their reunion going.

“Sounds like someone has been stalking me.”

“You wish,” she growled, placing her briefcase on the table and consulting the folder he’d provided. “And, as a lawyer, I’m well aware of the fact that stalking is an illegal offence in all fifty states.” She couldn’t miss the way his left dimple made an unwelcome appearance at that point.

“Fine. I guess you could say I felt like a change and, between you and me, those DC winters are a real killer without someone to keep you warm.”

Ass. 

“Why don’t I believe you, Mikaelson?”

“I suppose that’s your problem, not mine, Forbes.” Their gazes lingered, Caroline attempting to look away but failing miserably.

Ass.

“My client is willing to offer a generous settlement,” he said, breaking their trance and handing her another piece of paper, his hand grazing hers teasingly in the process.

“I’ll bet,” she shot back, finally regaining her composure. She looked at the page and was immediately insulted by the supposedly ‘generous’ offer. “This is a joke, right?”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“This is insulting and you can pass that onto your client,” she offered. “Unless you’d like to meet my client’s demands here and now and save us all some time and money.”

“That’s the final offer, take it or leave it,” he uttered, his jaw clenched. Caroline knew enough of Klaus to realise he meant it.  

“Right, so, if we’re finished here, I suppose I’ll see you at trial?”  

“Yes you will,” he promised. “You know during all those mock trials at Harvard, I always hoped that we’d meet up again and settle this for good.”

Caroline stilled, knowing just how those mock trials ended after dark. In her dorm room between the sheets, all the pent up energy leading to one hell of a crescendo.

“Unlike those mock trials when I was young and naive, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“That’s a real shame, love.”

Ass.

“See you in court.” She left, albeit on shaky legs, before the creeping blush threatened to reveal itself and her true feelings.

She loved the idiot but she didn’t want him to know that. Ever.

Honor Bar, Beverly Hills CA - Monday 27 July (2 weeks later)

Turns out Caroline’s fears were premature and unfounded.

She won the case, like many before it, and Skylar received full damages from the Los Angeles Times for defamation.  

Instead of gloating over her unexpected win, she was currently drowning her sorrows in vodka. Or maybe it was her coping mechanism to block out the fun they could be having in a bed further uptown.

“I was a little upset you didn’t invite me to the party.” She turned, knowing that familiar voice all too well.

“Do you have a tracking device on me or something?”

“Your personal assistant thought I should know your whereabouts to provide the final paperwork,” he said, gesturing to the barwoman for a drink. Caroline couldn’t miss the flutter of her eyelashes knowing the effect he had on women.

She hated that she felt it too.

“Of course she did,” she growled, knowing he’d sweet talked Lexi too. “You’re such an ass.” Caroline was proud of the fact she finally verbalised it after all these months of control.

“Says the defamation warrior,” he whistled, taking a sip of his drink. He’d shed his suit since their last meeting and she couldn’t miss just how good he looked in that navy henley and jeans. It was almost like they’d gone back in time to Boston.

“It’s true and, quite frankly, you deserved it.”

“Last time I checked you left me, sweetheart.”  

“We were both heading in different directions after graduation and excuse me if your reputation didn’t fill me with much confidence.”

“Wow,” he murmured, his gaze downcast. “I’ve followed your career too and what you’ve done is nothing short of phenomenal, not that I was expecting any less given your intelligence, dogged determination and ambition. But it seems as if you’ve not learned the biggest lesson.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“Not to judge a book by its cover,” he responded sincerely, his eyes now aligned with hers. “I love you, always have, but it seemed like what we had didn’t mean enough for you to try.”

“Well then, you’re mistaken,” Caroline replied gruffly, turning to face him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since college.”

“You better hope I don’t report you to the police for all of that stalking, love.”

“Just shut up and kiss me, Mikaelson,” she insisted, grabbing handfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer. 

His lips felt familiar, like nothing had changed and Caroline didn’t mind that one bit. He promised to beat her in court next time and she relished in the impending challenge.

It was what they did after all.