#lieutenantshipping

[merryfortune]

Spit In Our Cup and Call It Marriage

Written for Multiamory March 2023

Day 11: Wedding

Title: Spit In Our Cup and Call It Marriage

Ship: Lieutenantshipping | Aso/Kyoko/Genome

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,293

Tags: Pre-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Bittersweet Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Alcohol

   Kyoko was a little girl once.

   She tried not to think about in her grand old age of what? Twenty-something? Early twenty-something, even.

   But she had been a little girl once and watching the two little boys who were in her charge, more or less, she shared them with two men, she did recall things from her own childhood. She remembered playing with dolls. She remembered playing house. She remembered singing, here comes the bride, to herself and playing wedding all the same as she played with her dolls or played house. She even remembered mixing them all up into the same game because she didn’t have very many friends.

   To watch Ryoken and his… friend reenact the same sort of things as she had, it was bittersweet to say the least.

   It made her heart ache in her chest. Kyoko had once had a dream of the married with two point five kids and a dog and a nice little place to call her own with her husband kind of lifestyle. Now, considering her deeds, she felt as though her right to that dream - or any dream, for that matter - was forfeit.

   After all, it was a dream of scientific evolution that had landed her in this mess. One more wrong move and she would be locked up with the key thrown away. 

   Two point five kids and a dog. Pfft. After what she and her fellow scientists had done, she shouldn’t be allowed within five yards of a child and yet, she was beloved Kyoko-nee-san to two boys. One of which was even the child who should have disqualified her right to being human. Instead he worshipped it.

   She sat back with her two fellow… scientists. She didn’t want to use the p-word or co-p-word with either of them but she did sit back with them. On the lounge, drinking wine from the cask because all three of them were that depressed.

   They could all feel something bubble away under the surface. Things had been quiet. Too quiet. The proceedings of getting Dr. Kogami were coming along smoothly, too. So, there was definitely going to be the precipice of something on the horizon but no one knew what just yet. It was soon to be revealed, perhaps. 

    “Did any of you think life would turn out this way?” Kyoko asked.

   “Of course not.” Aso said.

   “A little.” Genome replied.

   He replied with that just to be contrarian and both Kyoko and Aso could tell he was specifically being contrarian right now. It was in the scrunch of both his nose and his voice. No one in their right mind would think life would ever turn out this way for a fictional character, let alone for actual people and yet. Here they were.

   Three disgraced scientists, contending with the imminent revival of their head scientist. All of them involved in a project which had involved torturing children to create little, tiny beings of artificial intelligence with free will. They were also the current guardian to one boy, the son of their dead but soon to be resurrected boss, and the who knows what to the other boy, one of the children they had experimented upon and was thanking them heartily for it.

   “How did you think life would turn out?” Aso asked. 

   “Not with a bunch of brats, I’ll tell you what. We better be stopping at two.” Genome grumbled.

   “I wanted kids.” Kyoko said. “Not this young, of course, I wanted to establish my career first, be at least thirty before the first tiny tot but…”

   “But yeah.” Aso agreed.

   “So did you want the whole package?” Genome asked. “Picket fence and a puppy? A marriage?”

   “Well… yeah… Kind of comes with the work-life balance modern woman package, one would hope anyway.” Kyoko replied.

   “That’s sweet.” Aso replied.

   “Gag me with a spoon, personally.” Genome blew a raspberry.

   “Hey, don’t make fun of me.” Kyoko glared and she took a hard chug of her wine after that.

   “Exactly.” Aso said. “I… I was married once, actually.”

   “You were?” Genome exclaimed.

   Kyoko was quiet. She had known Aso a little bit longer than Genome, prior to the Incident, whereas Genome had been brought on specifically for the Incident and so, she already knew this story. It always made her feel a little funny given that, well, they were all sleeping together and with each other and in all sorts of combinations to cope. Be it with natural bodily urges and otherwise…

   “Yes, I was married to a woman, once, but she passed away from cancer. We were twenty-one when we tied the knot. Young but she was already on the clock, we both knew. She was gone before either of us turned twenty-five.” Aso explained.

   “Very sad. My condolences.” Genome hollowly replied.

   “Yes, my heart always breaks when you bring it up.” Kyoko added, more genuine and sympathetic in emotion than Genome before her.

   “Enough time has passed, I think.” Aso said. “She will always be important to me but I have my own life to live, I can’t live as though I am dead, too.”

   “You may as well be though… Given our circumstances.” Kyoko murmured.

   “She has a point.” Genome shrugged.

   “We still have lives to live, I promise.” Aso said with wisdom befitting of his years, given he was older than both Kyoko and Genome but in their comparative youth, they were cynics.

   And so, they stared. With dead fish eyes. Aso huffed.

   “Why don’t we all get married?” he huffed. “I think we could do with a little joy. It makes sense given our shared commitments in child raising.”

   “Hey, I said we’re stopping at two, I know for a fact you should be shooting blanks, old man, and I’ll get a vasectomy if need be.” Genome threatened.

   Kyoko laughed, “We don’t need to get married. I’m fine day drinking like this.” 

   “Let’s compromise then.” Aso said but his merry voice then turned grumpy, “No vasectomies needed, and stop calling me old man, your like two years younger than me.”

   Genome laughed hysterically. So long as he was under someone’s skin, he was more than happy.

   “Here, like this, to us.” Aso said.

   He corralled both Kyoko and Genome as he was sitting in the middle cushion of the lounge. He roped his arms around their own and forced them to criss-cross, so they could all drink from each other’s wine glasses. Without even saying so, Kyoko and Genome got the picture.

   They were all drinking the same cheap sangria but for some reason, it tasted sweeter and more meaningful all looped up like this.

   “Now, we’re married.” Aso declared.

   “No take-backsies, I imagine?” Kyoko teased.

   “Too late, I want a divorce.” Genome complained.

   He leaned over hard to spit in Aso’s glass. Aso drank it greedily.

   “Now we’re double married, my friend.” Aso laughed from the bottom of his belly.

   Kyoko giggled, too. She wasn’t sure where this was entirely coming from. Maybe that simpering emotion she had felt before, not just in herself but amongst her adult cohort, too, had finally popped and this was the madness that was ensuing from it. Maybe it was just a result of day drinking and nothing more. 

   Either way, she appreciated the gesture because deep down, she knew her life was over. All their lives were over, despite what Aso claimed. Even his, even he knew it. There was no more life to live considering their crime. They would, forever and always, be the inner sanctum and upper echelon of disgraced scientists under the command and surveillance of Dr. Kogami. They all knew it, they all felt it in precognition, almost, of what was to come with his resurrection.

[kapr1sun-kragen]

[Image description: A digital drawing of Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS characters. Aso holds Kyoko in an embrace as they both kiss; Dr. Genome is behind Aso’s back, sipping from a soda cup that Kyoko holds out to him. In the background, Kengo stands off to the left, and to the right, Spectre and Ryoken are talking. Kyoko has faded red hair with orange streaks on her bangs and sideburns. Her skin is olive and she wears a white doctor’s coat with a black shirt. Aso’s skin is dark brown and his hair is blue-purple, with gray streaks on the sides. He wears a brown trenchcoat and black button-up. Dr. Genome has light skin and red glasses; his hair is green and he wears a green buttonup patterned with flowers.  End description]

polycule propaganda

[incorrect-vrains-quotes]

Lack of sexual tension with co-worker almost unbearable.

Kyoko and Aso about Genome, lol

[vicesandspices]

Nobody asked for this, but I have a lot of thoughts on last night’s Chicago Fire episode, and I need to put them somewhere.

Generally speaking, I didn’t really like the episode (10x14). I had really high hopes for Stella’s story and her embracing a lieutenantship somewhere else, and I was really excited to see her prove her leadership by pulling an “I’ll Make a Man Out of You,” Mulan-type thing with 72. And, frankly, I liked Pelham and wanted to see more of him.

So this work-around to keep Stella at 51 and effectively write out Brett Dalton really frustrates me. It’s just another example of Fire silo-ing the show. I want them to get dynamic and expand beyond the house, and they just keep telling me over and over that it won’t happen. Not to mention, this resolution essentially negates the entire arc both Stella and Pelham had in the early season. Stella willingly gave up the 81 spot, and she should’ve done more to earn that back, especially after everything Pelham did to earn it in the first place. I wanted her to earn it by whipping those guys at 72 into shape, but she instead just got it handed to her. And Pelham loses his family, just to keep the main cast under the same roof and avoiding expanding the world. And I don’t find that fair.

And then there’s the Hawkami of it all. I think it’s incredibly clear that we love them, but with the show constantly demonstrating that they refuse to go outside the walls of 51, I am not hopeful for their future. We said it from the beginning that we were clowning ourselves into thinking Hawkami was anything other than a plot device to get Violet and Gallo back together, and while I thought maybe for a second that wouldn’t be true, with every new episode, all our Hawkami content is laced with Gallo’s opinions on it. Whether he be against it or repenting for his previous comments, he’s always there, and the fact that the writers won’t let us forget that makes me think that they will once again forego a relationship with massive potential in favor of one within the house.

Even Sylvie’s reactions to the situation are putting me off. Of all the times Violet has come to her about Evan, I’ve never once thought that Sylvie sounded genuinely happy for her. I’m remembering that season 1 moment when Gabby tells Shay that she was sleeping with Mills and Shay literally shouts, “I KNEW IT” and then they start gabbing about how “generous” the sex is. That’s the kind of girl friendship I want between Sylvie and Violet, and we keep getting Sylvie just saying, “Well, he’s likeable” and “Not going to see Evan?” in a flat tone. Violet gave Sylvie the speech that pushed her towards Matt, and Sylvie responds with what feels like judgment about Violet dating a superior. We went from Violet proudly saying “who gives a damn what people think” last week to lying to her partner about it being only a one night thing, and I think it’s because she can tell Sylvie is not supportive. And that’s out of character because Sylvie’s entire deal is being supportive. So we’ve got Gallo always butting in and Sylvie literally acting out of character just to drive out a non-51 based love interest.

And I get that there are production concerns with expanding the geographical scope of the show, and it makes more sense to stay on one set piece both fiscally and COVID-wise, but building a smaller house, a partial set for Lieutenant Stella to exist in is feasible, in my opinion. And they’ve already got sets for Hawkins’ office and house. This show could be bigger than it is, but they just keep going in circles.

Even Severide’s arc this episode is something we’ve seen before. Yes, it’s always nice to see him mentoring a young firefighter onto squad, but we first saw him do this a decade ago with Mills, and - other than his relationship with Stella - he’s basically in the same spot he was then: lieutenant of Squad 3. His entire development has been going from ladies man to monogamous, but I want to know how he’s progressing professionally. I want Kelly to get promoted, and I honestly want him to think about leaving Squad. It’s been shown so many times that he is excellent at OFI and even teaching academy courses. I want him to find a successor, train them, and then finally move on from the stagnancy of Squad 3. He’s one of the only house members to never move up. Cruz moved to Squad, Hermann got promoted, even Mouch became union president. I want more for Kelly Severide. Hell, I want more for the whole show.

[sevens-evan]

'bumbleby fic request/prompt' shinigami blake finding hollow!Yang years after the latters death

you get so many thanks for enabling my incredibly niche content. for other readers if u don't understand bleach worldbuilding i'm so sorry but i cannot explain it to you concisely. just roll with it. i Also don't understand bleach worldbuilding so i'm going off the assumption that yang died as a shinigami, was reincarnated as human, died again and hollowed before making it to soul society, because i'm not sure how else the shinigami to hollow pipeline works

Blake is more surprised than she probably should be.

It has been...a lot of years. Even for a shinigami, a very long time, far more than enough for Yang to be reborn as a human and die again—human lives are so short, after all. Yang has been gone for long enough that Blake has fought her way up from where they were before, barely out of school, unseated soldiers, to a lieutenantship. Several lifetimes, in human years—which means that Blake has no idea how long Yang has been a hollow, or how powerful she may be as a result.

But she does know that the hollow is Yang.

Her presence is different, her spiritual pressure warped near-unrecognizably, but her—or perhaps Blake should say its—form is a dead giveaway. Its eyes glow red behind its mask, the exact same shade that Yang's once did, and its arms—its singular arm ends in an overgrown fist, fingers immobilized in white armor. The hollow swings it like a weapon, not quite in control but fast and beyond deadly.

Blake watches for awhile before she approaches it. The hollow is raging through a forest in the human world, sending tree trunks flying with every swing of its fist. There's no humans here; there's no humans for several dozen miles at the least, and Blake wonders why Yang has come here of all places. There's nothing for her to eat.

Eventually, though, Blake can make no more excuses. If she was smart, she would leap from the tree she's crouched in and drive Gambol Shroud's sealed blade through the hollow's mask in one fell swoop. She is not smart, at least not today, and so instead, she leaps down and lands directly in front of the hollow, sword still sheathed at her side.

God only knows what she's hoping for, honestly. Whatever it may be, she doesn't get it. The hollow roars and swings its arm at her, fast enough that Blake is hard-pressed to dodge it. It smashes through a tree beside where she'd been standing. The hollow roars again, raising its head and searching. Blake is just a dozen steps away from where she'd been, just outside of its reach.

"Shinigami," the hollow says. It sounds nothing like Yang. That's a comfort to Blake, and she finds it in herself to draw her sword. The hollow charges again, and Blake dodges easily, leaping up over its head. It would be so easy to lower her sword as she leaps, cut straight through the mask and send Yang—whatever was once Yang—on to Soul Society. Again, she doesn't. She lands behind the hollow lightly, and waits for it to turn.

"You smell," the hollow says as it lurches around.

"So I've heard," Blake says, and the hollow laughs. It's an awful, unnerving sound.

"You're the first one to talk back," it says. Blake's grip tightens on her sword. She'd almost forgotten, in her moment of realization, just how many shinigami this monster has eaten. "You're strong, huh? You're going to kill me?"

"You won't die," Blake says, unsure why she's bothering to correct the minutiae of the soul cycle to a monster.

"But I won't be alive anymore, either," the hollow says. "Not as I am."

"Is this how you want to be?" Blake asks. The hollow lifts its massive shoulder in a one-sided shrug. Its mask sits in a perpetual, toothy smile.

"It isn't so bad," it says. "An infinite supply of tasty humans, a whole wide world to see. And you shinigami always make a good treat."

"Mm." Blake brings her sword in front of her, holding it with two hands. She's glad she spoke to the monster, now. She knows, on a gut level as well as an intellectual, that it isn't Yang. It doesn't talk like her, it doesn't sound like her. It's just a monster. Just a hollow like any other, regardless of—

The hollow charges.

Blake is too slow.

She's always been faster than Yang, exponentially faster. The stealth and speed to Yang's sheer, unstoppable brute force. But they'd been evenly matched in most contests because Yang was always better at doing the unexpected.

The hollow slams into Blake, mask-first, with all the force of a semi truck. Blake hits the ground hard, and the hollow's mouth opens above her, gaping and consuming. Blake, for a moment, believes that she is about to die.

Then the hollow stops. Its open mouth hovers centimeters from Blake's form. Its eyes glow fiery, angry red, boring holes into Blake's. Slowly, it closes its mouth, and its teeth clack together.

"You smell," the hollow says again. "You smell...you smell...why do I know that smell?" Blake exhales like she's been kicked in the chest.

Slowly, she lets go of her sword with one hand. She reaches up, palm out, fingers spread, towards the hollow's face. It could bite her arm off; hell, it could swallow her whole in an instant. But it doesn't. It lets her reach up and press her hand against its mask, right between its eyes.

"Yang," Blake says. The hollow stares at her.

"You know me," it says. Blake nods. "And I...and I...I know..." It doesn't finish the sentence.

"You don't have to remember me," Blake says quietly. "But can you remember you?" The hollow leans forward, putting weight on Blake's hand. Blake's arm shakes. The hollow is heavy, impossibly so, and Blake realizes suddenly that it's leaking spiritual pressure strong enough to flatten the average soul.

"I remember..." The hollow presses a little harder. Blake's elbow bends. Their eyes are barely a foot apart. "I remember."

The red eyes turn purple.

Blake takes the opportunity and throws the hollow backward. It doesn't go far, but it's off of her, and she grabs onto her sword with both hands again as she leaps to her feet. The hollow watches her, eyes glowing a horribly familiar color.

Blake charges it. The hollow doesn't move. It doesn't try to lift its arm, or to dodge, or even to speak. It just watches, purple eyes wide, watches her the way Yang used to when Blake was fighting, content and amazed and awestruck—

Blake brings her blade down. It cuts through the mask easily. The hollow fades into the air, purified, spirit on its way back to Soul Society—where maybe, if Blake tries, she can find it.

Blake sits down in the dirt and cries.

[kontextmaschine]

my father's (between Korea and Nam) tips for lieutenantship

when you're new act like you know what you're doing, but let your sergeant make all the decisions

cross-train like 2x or 3x of your official assignments of guys on the machine gun and as medics

keep track as soon as your men are eligible for medals and promotion and pay-raising qualifications and submit the paperwork immediately

[necropsittacus]

though really tbh i dont know that theres actually any difference in the nature or intensity of my desire for "family" and distress over not having a "proper" one, from the same sorts of feelings about any other type of relationship ive decided i might like, that's much less easily parsable in terms of "oh with your background of course you feel cheated of this," like the notion of seeker trines, or lieutenantship, or whatever the fuck is going on in the story i took my new blog title from

so im not sure really that it's a separate Thing from a more generalized sort of bitter longing for forms of bonding i picked up from seeing represented that appeal immensely but im not sure that i can have

[proofthatihaveaheart]

TERRY DESERVES THIS VICTORY AND THE LIEUTENANTSHIP 

[merryfortune]

We Rolled More Kindly This Time in the Game of Life (Part Two)

Written for Multiamory March 2023

Day 15: Adoption

Title: We Rolled More Kindly This Time in the Game of Life (Part 2)

Ship: Lieutenantshipping | Aso/Kyoko/Genome

Focus: Spectre & Aso & Genome & Kyoko

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,640

Tags: Fluff, Found Family, Outside POV, Queerplatonic Relationships

   There had been previous attempts to adopt Spectre out, of course.

   The whole idea was to rehome less fortunate children into better situations however… At first he was just unlucky.

   Oh no, we want a girl not a boy. We do want a boy but we’d prefer a boy who looked more like us. It’s sort of, um, unlucky, don’t you think? To have a baby that doesn’t cry… Its sort of creepy, we’d much prefer to have a lively baby, even if we do lose sleep over it, cuing to laughter.

   Other times it was just unlucky. The paperwork got lost in the mail. Some one off event all but forgotten to the couple from their youth disqualified them. A combination of both in which the paperwork was incorrectly filled out.

   And then after all these mishaps, Spectre got old enough to understand what adoption was. It was moving. It was being forced into a nuclear family he did not ask for. It meant he could never see his real Mother ever again.

   So Spectre began to sabotage himself. He learned real quick a lot of people were very prissy about worms even though they were very important to the ecosystem. He would be rude and unlikeable on purpose. Even going so far as breaking toys to make himself unwanted.

   As much as he hated the Orphanage and the Orphanage appeared to hate him, Spectre was determined to stay. Because staying meant that he could be close to his real Mother, his Mother Tree. She was the best, she actually loved him.

   Her face may have been a wooden knot far into the middle of her trunk but it was kind and gentle. Her hair was foliage, her arms were tree branches, and her legs were roots. Despite all this, when wind whistled through her leaves, it made for Spectre’s most favourite lullaby. She was strong and stalwart when he hugged her and he felt hugged back by her in the quiver of her twigs. He could nap in the boughs of her as though against her breast or under her roots like a lap. 

   Spectre was going to stay at the Orphanage until he was a grown up and then, when he was grown up, he could do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was to stay with his Mother. He just had some growing to do. Ten-ish years, Spectre believed, and then at sixteen or so he could get emancipated.

   (And yes, being precocious and perceptive, he knew and used that word exactly as intended.)

   That was Spectre’s plan. That was all Spectre wanted.

   But then something occurred and he couldn’t quite explain it.

   His Mother… She had been cut down.

   Being all of six years old, Spectre could not fathom why such a thing was done. She was not fire wood. She was not something to be turned into pencils. And yet. She had been struck down clean in half, the top of her taken and what remained of her was a stump taller than him.

   Spectre buckled at the knee as he sobbed. He hated them. He hated humans. They abandoned him. They were cruel to him. And now they had done this to him.

   He wasn’t sure what he was going to do next but he was sure as sure as anything not going back to the Orphanage. There was no point. He had nothing to keep him there anymore. Nothing to live for it. It didn’t matter.

   So Spectre ran.

   He didn’t know where to. He had no other place to go but he ran. He couldn’t bear to see his Mother in this state and so he ran as far as his little body could carry him. All whilst tears streamed down his face. He didn’t look where he was going, he got up when he tripped. Mud and grass stains didn’t bother him.

   But hunger eventually did.

   He accepted he wasn’t going to get dinner tonight. It had been so long since school snacks and lunch beforehand. Spectre found himself on the side of the road. He plopped himself under a tree and held his hungry belly. He watched as people passed him by, not even looking at him. 

   But he did want someone to look at him. He didn’t know who though. Not the Orphanage Matrons but someone else. A friend? He didn’t have any friends.

   Spectre stayed there for an hour longer. Just on the corner of some street, under some tree. He didn’t budge, not even as it began to spit rain and the clouds looked ready to storm after this gloomy precursor. As time continued to pass, no one came for him. Not yet at least. He had a nagging worry at the back of his mind that the matrons would eventually come for him.

   Yet someone else came for him first.

   “Hey, are you okay? You look sad…”

   Spectre looked up and he saw a boy who was only a little bit taller and older than him. He had fluffy white hair and the most beautiful eyes that Spectre had ever seen on a boy - or anyone, really. His heart skipped a beat as he was offered a helping hand.

   And one thing turned into another. He wasn’t okay. He was sad. And this boy did his best - above and beyond his best, even - to be sympathetic to Spectre and comfort him. So, they introduced themselves to each other and suddenly, Spectre had a friend.

   As well as an invitation to this boy’s sleepover party.

   His name was Kogami Ryoken and he wanted to be Spectre’s friend and, more excitingly, Spectre wanted to be his. 

   They talked the whole way home. Well, to Ryoken’s home and it was not at all what Spectre had been expecting. He had been expecting a house with maybe a small garden or backyard at best. Most people in the city lived in apartments and flats, Spectre had observed. Ryoken and his family were not like most people, nor were they like some people. They were like the smallest, most royal people as he lived in a mansion the size of a castle with sweeping lawns and pretty gardens.

   Spectre felt as though he had tumbled into a dream. Or a fairy tale. But then he was in for a rude shock. He was not Ryoken’s only friend, nor the only invite to the sleepover.

   There was another and his name was Fujiki Yusaku. He wanted to be Spectre’s friend, too, since they already had Ryoken in common. Spectre, however, did not want to be Yusaku’s friend. 

   There wasn’t an overly specific reason that Spectre didn’t want to be friends with Yusaku. He just made his first and he wanted it to be special and somehow knowing he was second made it a whole lot less special for him. So he did his best to be rude and unlikeable, that was always something he was good at. 

   Yet it didn’t work on Yusaku. He was too… something Spectre didn’t like nor knew how to word. He wasn’t the centre of attention or anything but something else. Regardless, whatever he was, by morning, Spectre had to admit. They were friends. All three of them. Him, Ryoken, and Yusaku.

   However, also by morning, Spectre was told he had to leave. Had to go home. And Spectre didn’t want to go home. As far as he was concerned, the Orphanage was not his home and the closest place to what felt like home for him was ruined. Had been cut down.

   Spectre did his best to explain his situation to Ryoken’s Father - Dr. Kogami - but also the other adults who were hanging around this place as well. He spoke at length about his experiences with the Orphanage and how he didn’t want to go back. They listened about as well as adults could to a kindergartener in a unique predicament but at least they listened.

   And when they did, Spectre watched. He got their names and their appearances, even their habits. Aso. Kyoko. And um… Dr Genome? They seemed to have jobs here, Spectre thought. Scientists or something but they also seemed like friends as family relatives to Ryoken, something he’d only really seen in books and cartoons. 

   They were a weird bunch. Two men and a woman. The woman was very young, younger than the matrons at the Orphanage whereas the men seemed about the same age or if not older than the adults that Spectre was used to seeing (and being under the oppressive thumb of). 

   They liked to laugh and joke and even though Dr. Kogami seemed determined to be distant to Spectre, as well as Yusaku, he’d noticed, these other adults weren’t like that. They didn’t necessarily want to be close to him but they wanted to keep an eye on him. 

   Kyoko and Aso seemed nice, Spectre thought. Dr Genome was weird but it made him laugh. They were an odd bunch but they liked him and odder still, Spectre came to like them.

   All the time they had together was breakfast and morning tea. But that was just enough time, it seemed. 

   Yusaku’s Mother had picked him up earlier and the matrons said they couldn’t collect him until eleven-thirty because they had so much to do. Many other children in their care and whatnot.

   But by the end of it, before the matrons arrived, they were still sitting at the dining room table. Ryoken had gone to have a shower, his Father was busy. So it was just them four. At a table. It reminded Spectre of something whilst they chatted.

   “Do you have a favourite book, boy?” Aso asked him.

   They never used his self-imposed nickname but that was fine. “Yes, its called Blue Angel.” Spectre replied.

  “And what about a favourite subject at school?” Kyoko asked.

  “Um… reading and writing.” Spectre said. “But I like science and geography, too.”

  “A little academic to be.” Dr. Genome laughed approvingly.

   “And how would you feel about being adopted? By us?” Kyoko asked.

   Spectre felt his heart strike a chord. He watched as Aso put his hand over Kyoko’s. Suddenly he knew, before, what he had been reminded of. Adoption compatibility interviews. The ones he normally brought worms and headless Barbie dolls to.

   “I don’t… we don’t know how much you know about when adults grow up and get married but we aren’t. We’re in civil partnerships - do you know what that is?” Aso began to explain.

   Spectre shook his head.

   “It means we’re all committed to one another but not formally, like with marriage because we all love and are committed to one another. Kyoko and I, well, we could get married if we wanted to because we’re in romantic love with one another however, Genome is our very good friend but he doesn’t love us romantically. He loves us queerplatonically, instead and is still an important part of our relationship.” Aso said.

   There were… a lot of big words but a lot of the time, adults like to dumb things down for Spectre. He knew he was smart but very rarely did, especially people who wanted to be prospective parents to him, trusted that. He licked his lips. He didn’t get it. 

   And he said as much, amusing Dr. Genome especially.

   “What that means is,” he said, folding his arms, looking beady from behind his glasses, “is that we decide who we love and what we mean to each other. I could be your uncle. Or your dad. Or even your… I dunno, duncle. Same for Aso. Kyoko… feminine versions so your mum, or your aunt, your sister if you really wanted. Er, um, or your mumunt.” He was having a lot of fun coming up with smush terms but they weren’t really getting the reaction that he was after.

   Namely laughter. Instead Spectre stared stoically. Seriously. With something of a little pout on his face.

   He got the gist of all the jargon after that and couldn’t help but compare it to some of the bossier prospective parents he had encountered in his time. They had to be this, he had to be that. He didn’t want a Mother or a mum. He already had one. Even if she was now gone. 

   “It's up to you, of course,” Kyoko quickly added, “if you don’t want to be adopted, we’ll understand. We’ve only just met each other but if you want to stay, we have two apartments we share between ourselves and a spare bedroom in both, is all. We could transfer you to Ryoken and Yusaku’s school and… well, we’re new to being parents or foster guardians or whatever you want to call us so we can figure it out from there.”

   Spectre still stared.

   “The little man needs something more to sweeten the pot, eh?” Dr. Genome mused. “Tell us, what’s your favourite food? ‘Cause Aso here is a really good cook.”

   “Tamagoyaki.” Spectre replied without thinking.

   Aso laughed, “Why didn’t you say so earlier. I’ll make us up some and you can decide when your current carers arrive.”

   He got up from the table, smile on his face, and when he walked past where Spectre was sitting, in a chair too big for him, Spectre stopped him. He grabbed Aso’s sleeve and Aso looked down towards him. Spectre looked up to meet his minutely befuddled stare.

   “I… I wanna stay.” Spectre said in a tiny, meek voice. His hand trembled as he held onto Aso’s sleeve. “I want you guys to adopt me.”

   It felt like an all too soon, all too rash decision but this place. Sure. Spectre was dazzled by everything it was as it was so different to the rudimentary, perpetually school-like building of the orphanage but it was more than that. It felt like home. It was a place he wanted to stay. Not run away from. He could only hope that Aso, Kyoko, and Dr. Genome’s apartments were the same way but with them in it, Spectre liked his chances.

   “Good fella.” Dr. Genome said.

   “We’re happy to have you as well.” Kyoko said, smiling. 

   “C’mon, let’s make tamagoyaki together.” Aso said.

   Spectre nodded and Aso picked him up, placed him up high over his shoulders and Spectre felt like he was on a mountaintop. His head was almost touching the ceiling, even. Which was impressive because the Kogami mansion had some very tall ceilings. Kyoko and Dr. Genome tagged along too, to the kitchen to make more snacks. 

   “But one more thing,” Spectre asked for, frowning, “my name is Spectre! Not boy or good fella or little man: its Spectre! Su-pe-ku-ta!”

   Dr. Genome laughed heartily, “See? He’s already taking after me, his duncle.” 

   “Stop it you.” Kyoko teased, lightly slapping Dr. Genome’s shoulder.

   But Spectre laughed, too. Just a little bit. He couldn’t believe it. He had never ever in a million trillion years ever wanted to get adopted. Quite frankly even the matrons at the Orphanage were giving up on his chances to, as well, given his past behaviour and best efforts to villainise himself and so.

   Were all very happy, very confounded, and very relieved that when they arrived to pick him up, they discovered they didn’t need to. Once the dreadful paperwork was done and this time, Spectre had his fingers crossed that it didn’t get lost in the mail. Nor incorrectly filled out. And that the background checks would come back squeaky clean. 

   All because he had found his… well… family. They weren’t a nuclear family. They were more amorphous than that. Sometimes two uncles, an aunt, and a nephew. Sometimes he was their son and they were his guardians. Sometimes something else entirely and that’s how all four of them liked it.

[kapr1sun-kragen]

[image description: a drawing of the knights of hanoi lieutenants. their designs are from the artist’s visual kei band alternate universe.

dr. genome stands smirking and tugging a surgical glove over his right hand. he has wrinkled light skin, except for half of his face, which is a sickly green with visible forehead stitches. his hair is half brown and half green and yellow. he wears a red monocle over his right eye, teal surgical scrubs, and an eggshell white coat with the sleeves rolled up; the left side of the coat is thrown over his shoulder. his right arm, shirt, and pants are covered in lots of blood.

aso stands with his legs crossed, left arm on his hip and right arm hanging, and a serious expression on his face. he has wrinkled brown skin and dramatic eyeliner. his spiky hair is deep blue and covers his right eye. he wears a black button-down, ripped black dress pants, faded belt, navy blue tie, and a white knee-length lab coat. the right arm, chest, and bottom of his coat are drenched in blood.

taki stands grinning, right arm hanging down and left arm raised, holding a hypodermic needle. she has wrinkled olive skin, stitches across her neck, and spikier dark red hair. she wears a gray-white doctor’s coat, buttoned up to hide an orange prisoner’s jumpsuit, complete with a name tag and medical cross. she also wears white arm-length gloves and black dress pants. the left leg of her pants is tied up by loose bandages. her coat, hands, and bandages are covered in blood. 

end description]

my friends are talking about a VRAINS vkei AU

[siderealxmelody]

A Surprise Honor

@shatteredwings55

Samyaza stared at Lucifer with wide blue eyes.

"You're - I - thank you."

He kneeled before him, his head bowed and his arm crossed over his chest in a fist over his heart.

"I won't let you down Lucifer."

Azazel hearing the news a few hours threw his practice sword against a wall, scaring the fledgings who were practicing a few feet away.

"Without an audition?! How is that fair Phanuel?! Next Lucifer is going to give him the lieutenantship!!"

Phanuel sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Pick that up and I don't know Lucifer's intentions, go ask him if you want to —"

Azazel pushed past him, yelping when Phanuel held him back by the collar of his robes.

"I said, pick it up."

He said quietly. Azazel shivered and nodded quickly moving swiftly when Phanuel let him go.

[merryfortune]

Clatter and Clink

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Aso/Genome/Kyoko

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Cussing, Alcohol

  “Are we... parents now?” Kyoko asked, horrified, collapsing onto the white lounge, her face in her hands. She kicked up her feet a little bit for drama because she enjoyed extraneous movements under stress, it seemed.

  She had spent the better part of two hours on the edge of a heart attack because Ryoken had run off as he had: not only in the middle of the night after a huge blow out argument but in the middle of the worst thunderstorm in months, too. Now, he was back and for better or worse, he wasn’t alone. He had come back with a little friend in tow. And not only was he some lost little kid, he was one of the lost little kids from the Experiment. She couldn’t believe it.

  Nor could Aso.

  Genome, however, was more than willing to suspend his disbelief on this one. That kid was fucking weird, after all. They all recalled those six months of torture – or bliss if you were this tyke.

  But they had to believe it. They were the ones who had towel-dried him and Ryoken down this awful and cold evening where the rain was still an onslaught upon Den City outside.

  Still, Kyoko had asked a rather intriguing question. Aso sat down with Kyoko on the lounge, he was careful with the two glasses of white wine that he had poured. He gave one to Kyoko who smiled. She was still a collegiate girl at heart; a bottle of passion pop for her to down would have been better than the nice and charming and sparkling drink that Aso had been so kind to fetch her. So, she smiled bitterly as she drank it. Something she could scull was almost preferred. She thinks that she wants to be drunk for the remainder of this bizarre night.

  “I don’t think so.” Aso said with a philosophical expression as his lips met the rim of the wine glass. As per usual, he spoke with this odd sort of wisdom which made him seem even older than he was – and he only had about a decade on top of Kyoko and Genome between them.

  “But then again,” Kyoko said, lifting her head out of her hands, her brow becoming serious, “if I was to be a parent, I would want it to be with you.”

  “And me!” Genome barked from the kitchen; he seemed to be supervising... something. Regardless, he was still huffy in his jocular way. “I’m offended. You two can be as mutually exclusive as you like, but I’m inserting myself in, you can’t change my mind.”

  Kyoko laughed. She couldn’t believe she was laughing in this absurd situation. “Yes, yes, dear, that’s why we love you.”

  However, instead of taking her bait, Genome changed the subject, he raised his voice again: “Quick, fellow parental units, should we be letting Ryoken use a knife?”

  “Fuck if I know.” Kyoko moaned in her hands.

  “For now, sure. Why? What’s he doing?” Aso asked, craning his neck.

  “Making sandwiches.” Genome blithely informed them both.

  Kyoko flapped her free hand about. “That sounds fine. I think I was making sandwiches for myself when I was eight. It’s probably fine.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine for Ryoken to be using a knife.” Aso called out.

  “Thank you, Aso-oji-san.” Ryoken sang out and then, in a loud but still quite hushed voice, he added to his companion: “That’s Aso-oji-san, he’s really nice. Genome-oji-san is a bit scary but he’s cool. You’ll like ‘em both, and of course there’s Kyoko-nee-chan, she’s really nice. You’ll love her.”

  His companion merely stared at him upon being told that. He seemed rather distrustful to say the least, but he preferred minimal contact with adults anyway, so it was probably fine.

  Genome joined the other two in the attached lounge room – though, it was all attached in the sense that nothing was attached thanks to being spaciously modern with a free-flowing floor plan. In his hand, unlike those two, he had a red wine. That’s just how his tannins were. Then, to annoy them, he sat down on the lounge as well rather than the adjacent recliner so that they would all be comfortable, but he was an annoying eccentric like that.

  “So. Parents. Are we?” he asked before taking an ungraceful slurp of his red wine as though it were soft drink.

  “I think we are. We’re in charge of two children now.” Kyoko said.

  “One child. We’ll get rid of the other in the morning.”

  “Oh? We’re escalating to child murder, are we? Fantastic, I’ll get the shovel.” Genome said, hysterical, poking fun at him.

  Aso groaned. “Not what I meant. And you know it.” He huffed. “I’m sure this boy’s parents are worried sick about him going missing again.” Aso said.

  “I dunno…” Genome murmured, warning. He wolf-whistled. “Oi, kids! You, one who is not Ryoken, where’re your folks?”

  “My who?” the child said, creeping out of the kitchen with a sheepish expression. “I have a Mother, but she was killed by humans…”

  Genome beamed upon hearing that. Kyoko and Aso, meanwhile, exchanged a funny look. That was… not the answer they were expecting. Moreover, they were unsettled by the boy’s use of “humans” over, well, any other word choice. Perhaps murderer or burglar or hell, even father.

  “…Explain.” Kyoko regrettably piped up.

  Ryoken came around the bend. “Let’s eat in the living room – we’re allowed to, for tonight, only tonight?” His eyes were pleading.

  “For tonight only.” Aso confirmed.

  The two kids then piled onto the floor at their feet with a plate each of rather messily made sandwiches. Ryoken ate his while his friend tried to find his words.

  “Mother was killed by humans. I don’t know why… Maybe she was too big… She was the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen…” the boy murmured.

  “…Tree?” Kyoko picked up on.

  “Yeah, she was huge! Bigger than this house!” The boy threw his hands in the air for emphasis. “She protected me when no one else would… I live at an orphanage, please don’t make me go back there! The kids hate me, and the matrons find me creepy… I bet they won’t even come looking for me this time.” His eyes lit up. “Oh! Thank you, by the way! Thank you so much for rescuing me from the orphanage the first time ‘round. I want my happy times to continue so please, I want to keep duelling. It was so much fun! …Even when I couldn’t see my Mother.”

  “Yeah, I think we should keep him. What’s another mouth to feed?” Genome said, far too hasty.

  “What’s your name, boy?” Aso asked.

  “Don’t have one.” The kid shrugged before stuffing his mouth with his sandwich.

  “If we name him, I think that makes us his parents.” Genome said, very smart.

  Aso scowled. “He’s six and lives at an orphanage. He’s pulling our leg, I’m sure he has a name.” he scolded Genome but the fact that the boy in question didn’t laugh did not bode well as an omen in Aso’s favour of his deduction. A child who was a trickster would likely not be able to resist laughing when his joke fell apart.

  “Well, regardless, I now dub thee,” Kyoko made a hand gesture to Genome, “Papa,” and then to Aso, “Daddy. And myself, Mama.”

  “Naw, you’re Kyoko-nee-chan.” Ryoken scolded her.

  His friend giggled. He had an odd face, that boy. Laughter looked bizarrely sinister on him.

  “That still makes us responsible for you two, though.” Kyoko sighed. She lifted her glass with a dejected demeanour about her. “To us?”

  “To us.” Aso and Genome clinked their own glasses against hers.

  The clatter was strangely pleasant unto their ears. It felt like more than a joke or a jape. In a way, they had all addressed something which had been bothering them for a while now, perhaps about six months, even. They were ridiculously close in rather odd ways. Perhaps it was time to simply accept their situation as it was, not matter how depressing and convoluted. Hence, why they found a peculiar peace in the way glass echoed and chinked off more glass and how wine slurred around. After all, the waters of the womb had nothing on the blood of the covenant. It was satisfying in ways the children, owlishly looking up and onto them, didn’t quite understand. They certainly didn’t understand the way they drank such foul-smelling drinks so eagerly either.

[merryfortune]

Also having a mention in Gouki Panic. Akira x Dr. Genome

i see

[merryfortune]

Day 1: Time and Limits

Compendium Game Route 2019 for @vrainsrarepairweeks

Ship: Aso/Genome/Kyoko

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,930

Tags: Minor Aso/Original Female Character, Minor Taki Kyoko/Original Male Character, Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Sexual References, Alcohol, Smoking, Character Death

  When they met, they were strangers. When they were willing to part, they were the most important people to each other that they had ever had.

  Aso was in the middle of life a crisis. That made him easy prey. He was in his late twenties to early thirties and his wife of three years had just passed away from cancer. He would never forget kissing her for the last time as she succumbed: her paper soft lips, parted and dried, gasping for air she couldn’t truly breathe. It was a heavy moment that Aso found life changing. World breaking. So, wanting to reinvigorate himself, he decided that he wanted to go back to university, complete some new degrees and try to enjoy life again. In his depression, Dr Kogami saw someone who would be easy to mould for what he required and so, he was invited to the Hanoi Project. Despite his misery, he was hard working and soft spoken, a gentle voice of reason among what many people would call bizarre colleagues. But, in that project, Aso grappled with his own, ulterior motives. He yearned, so spinelessly, for a second chance, for immortality but whether or not it was a lust as grotesque as the one Dr Kogami possessed was not yet revealed.

  Genome ‒ Doctor Genome ‒ was a freak, the other assistants were certain that he was plucked out of the circus. He didn’t seem to have any skill or knowledge which would help; he liked to irritate everyone around him. He didn’t even tell anyone his name; an acceptably real one, anyway ‒ and, it was always Doctor Genome, he was very proud of the supposed PhD that he had. He seemed to have no code of conduct which reflected anything hale which was likely why he was chosen. But the truth of the matter was that he was perfect for the project outside of that amorality as well, but others only realised that until about week into the first phase, when later ideas were but a dream (a nightmare) and he rolled out all sorts of ideas and theories on how they would create a creature both organic and inorganic; all whilst slurping on a pineapple slushie that he had gotten from the nearest convenience store. He revelled in the sudden opinion shift up.

  And finally, there was Taki Kyoko; she was twenty years old and not quite fresh out of high school but nor was she as wizened to the ways of the world as Aso nor as at least mildly experienced as Genome. It was obvious that she was chosen for her youth; where Aso was easy to manipulate in his grief, she was going to be easy to manipulate in her youth. Still, she wasn’t necessarily as precocious or putty‒like as was expected of her.  She had a good head on her shoulders, as whimsical as it was; she was always toeing the line when it came to dress code violations. She was strong willed with idealistic eyes. Though, when her larger than life canter did falter, she took it in stride and it later became her power. She was not supposed to be close to the top of the hierarchy, and yet that was exactly where she could be found and where she proudly made her perch.

 Together, they made an odd team. They were difficult and uncomfortable in difficult and uncomfortable times, but they made it through together. From Phase One, planning, to Phase Two, preparation, to Phase Three, enaction: up until they were raided, and everything got shut down.

  It began slowly. It seemed like something like a joke. A hypothetical. They wanted to create a new species: artificial intelligences with free will. They wanted to create something which could exist between two different planes of existence: the digital realm at their fingertips and the realm they were already apart of. And when they got thinking about how they should do it, they were naturally attracted to the one “fad” which had changed the courses of history time and time again: Duelling. With it, there was an expression of sense of self for everyone. And then they got thinking. The younger the duellist the better; their sense of right and wrong were just beginning to bloom and more and that was exactly the model suited to their own little organisms they were seeking to create.

  Suddenly the hypotheticals weren’t so hypothetical. They set up those rooms, lit them blindingly white and prepared meagre meals which were wolfed down and decadent meals which usually went to spoil. They set up the headsets and then they found children who could wear such headsets. After all, they had the perfect little lure available to them: the very son of Dr Kogami. He was so adorably eager to help, he wanted to make new friends as well, it all seemed so perfect. He was never told a thing, even when he put roofies in their food on their behalf.

  They watched. They waited. They recorded. They did everything that was asked of them, even when it was too grim to bear, they refused to look away from the agony that they had created, no matter how gruesome. And then it all came crashing down around them. They were probably lucky that six months was as far as they had gotten. Their preparations had been thorough. The Ignis were successfully created and in the chaos of it all, they escaped.

  Dr Kogami was crucified for his crimes. He took the brunt of it; SOL Tech, their generous funders, made sure the story never went public and Dr Kogami was all but outright killed for the secret. They kept it all tightly wrapped and for those who were not Dr Kogami, it was as though they had gotten off scot free.

  Not quite. There were loose ends. This Ignis couldn’t roam free and then there was the matter of young Kogami Ryoken: all alone in the world, save for his comatose father and the screams of the six children. So, something had to be done.

  There had been other assistants, some were cut loose before Phase Two, and others had just squeezed in, but now it was just them. Aso, Genome, and Kyoko. They had undoubtedly been the spearheads of the project, underneath Dr Kogami’s wing and now, they would do their best to atone, they supposed. So, they moved in with Ryoken. The Kogami residence was better than any apartment the three of them could afford and they tried to look after him.

  Between the three of them, none were exactly a chef or overly emotionally adept. The past six months had been hard on them as well. They hated it: the sound of screaming, crying children but they were hardened to it. Even to Ryoken’s cries but, that gave them a new project to work on. Not just at bettering themselves; going back to how they were before, whole, but something else as well.

  It couldn’t be that hard, right? Bringing someone back from the dead. They managed to make the Ignis; surely, they could restore life to Dr Kogami. Not to mention, there was a property of SOL Tech’s which was freely available to everyone which caught their attention: The Link VRAINS.

  Of course, nothing is ever as easy as thought. It took a lot of terrible nights and awful days but they managed to transfer Dr Kogami’s consciousness to the Link VRAINS but there were some other things which happened first.

  Ryoken found a playmate.

  He decided that he wanted to call himself Spectre and that’s when Dr Genome knew that he’d like this kid and he was a member of the Lost Incident; one of the children who was experimented upon. It was unprecedented but one of the six had returned to them. And that made the assistants rather uncomfortable but in this child’s case, they couldn’t exactly say that they were surprised.

  He was the oddball of the group. The lone child of the experiment who enjoyed it – and this wasn’t even some sort of skewed recollection. They remembered his smile. It was chilling and unsettling and therefore undisputable. So, he was welcomed into the family – and yes, it was a family, they supposed – that rainy night when Ryoken had had enough and needed to run away and sort his own feelings out and in it, he had come back with Spectre in tow after their little adventure to and from the Facility.

  The second most pressing thing which happened was that it was decided that both boys should go to school. So, Spectre was given the alias Aso Hideki and sent to elementary school again with fingers crossed that no one from his so-called past life recognised him. That was a thought which hung over them like a shadow, like a spectre, but nothing wrong ever happened in that regard; it was exactly as the little six-year-old said. No one from that orphanage liked him enough to ever check up on him and, when records were ferreted through by Genome out of curiosity, there was indeed a little death certificate made up for him, his old name, by the people whose care he had once been in. That amused Genome greatly and horrified Aso and Kyoko.

  Still, with Spectres return to school, it gave everyone something to do. Granted, he hated it, but he clung to Ryoken’s side which made it better. Still, it gave Aso and Genome, mainly as Kyoko had the final legs of her university schooling to contend with, some sort of normality that they could play around with.

  Being responsible for one kid had been bad enough – and in its own way, good for them, too – but two was even stranger. Running errands, buying extra groceries, getting them ready for school: it all gave them a domestic routine. Before they knew it, the Lost Incident had almost grown faint as time passed: a whole six months in all the new havoc of their lives to micromanage. It was fun, pretending to be their aunt and uncles. Ryoken really looked up to them but Spectre was a little more reserved around them but each day, he came out of his shell a bit more. In its own way, it was rewarding.

  For the first time in the forever, they would exhaust feeling good rather than bad. At the end of each day, after Ryoken and Spectre were put to bed, the three of them would settle in for the night, watch some television and eat some ice-cream and drink some booze. It felt like that they had something solid and real with each other, no matter how ditsy the day or how dark the night, no matter what circumstances had brought them together like this.

 Even though the Incident hung over them all like a fog, they were finding peace again. Their fears only realised in proximity to their old boss; they had to micromanage Dr Kogami, as well, despite his coma but they found some reclamation of normalcy; even if it was fantasy. Ultimately culminating in a rather bizarre blip in their intertwined lives: Kyoko tried to enter (re-enter?) the dating pool. She had managed to charm some young fellow from down the street; he worked as a courier who exclusively worked with soft drinks and vending machines. He seemed sweet enough; he had a nice smile and a job.

  Kyoko had been hesitant at first. After what she had done, had helped with, she didn’t think that she deserved to try dating and being a normal twenty-year-old but Aso convinced her otherwise. Genome had agreed with her but not out of a place of pity, somewhere harsher and unamused in his point of view but Kyoko followed through. She tried to have a fling with this bloke, but she couldn’t sink her teeth in – and she did try. She lost her virginity to this young man and ghosted him thereafter. The sex had been that bland, apparently.

  It was weird. Kyoko couldn’t stand the thought of being with a man who wasn’t either Aso or Genome. Not even romantically, just in general. Even platonically. Hell, she was closing herself off to other women too. It was almost hermit-like, she found. In Kyoko’s divulging on the topic, Aso found some semblance of agreement but neglected to mention his late wife. Genome just laughed. He thought it was hilarious that they were all trauma bonded like that.

  After all these things had happened, hodgepodge and spread out of the course of another few months, Kyoko graduated university. She got her qualifications and posthumously, she was quite certain that she would have made Dr Kogami proud. For now, she was more than overwhelmed with the congratulations that she got from her dearest living ones. The kids made her a card; Genome toasted her the strangest champagne she had ever had; Aso gave her a kiss. It was nice. She even started looking into getting a job but there were more pressing things at hand; they still had plenty of Dr Kogami’s money, after all.

  They had to resurrect him, after all. And the knowledge that Kyoko had picked up during her university years certainly helped contribute but it was a group effort. Between her, Genome, and Aso, they finally succeeded in returning Dr Kogami to the land of living. Well, as living as it got in the digitality of the Link VRAINS.

  He was happy to see his son again. Though, his brown was stern, unimpressed, when he learned that his son was now eleven. Dr Kogami thought that his finest would have worked quicker to restore his life to his body. The assistants were hotly ashamed as they had been foolishly naïve in their expected praise; Ryoken whimpered because a drift had formed between himself and his father; and Spectre merely scowled at this strange man who mistreated his best friend.

  And Dr Kogami was most certainly unnerved to see the reappearance of one of his test subjects. Fate was scary but it seems, it had the potential to be kind, as well. At least one of those infants understood why their suffering – their joy, in this child’s apparent case – was necessary.

  It was a shame that it was all for naught. Now, that Dr Kogami was alive once more, it seemed like their next goal was simple: recapture the Ignis and work once more towards their goal.

  They began to unpack that which was left in the dark for so long; almost a little less than two years and started once more. It was another round of late nights and agonising days with little sleep and more caffeine than what was healthy. Still, they tried to keep those idyllic days close. Nights ending slightly drunk with an emptied tub of ice-cream nearby and sending the boys to the morning with embarrassingly red cheeks.

  Regardless, it was quicker work than they thought it would be. They used to be a bigger team, once upon a time; now it was just them three. But they worked well together. They had naturalised. They couldn’t imagine themselves without the others anymore; they were a unit, a group. They were important together. It was a mutually requited strand of thought, often made ode to over half washed dishes, erroneous code programs, or glasses of red wine.

  They were starting to talk about things that they hadn’t before. It had been a while since any of them had gotten a taste of having a conventional family. Aso started. He finally brought up his lost love and Kyoko cried. She understood why he had tried to spur her onto the delivery guy now. She had a bleeding heart. It had scarred during the Incident but there were certain things she was sensitive to; illness was one of them. She had lost her own mother to unexpected illness so she could relate to Aso’s heartache. She couldn’t help but feel that her mother would be disappointed in her. She hadn’t even graduated high school, so she had always encouraged her daughter academically.

  Genome listened as obediently as he could. Unlike those two, he didn’t suffer from guilt or from the normal range of human emotion in general. But, for once, he found it in himself to be respectful as he had their moment – even if he did, personally, feel cut off from it.

  That earned him a kiss from her, red lipstick and all, but only on the corner of his mouth, in reward for his display of aptitude. Kyoko gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled into it. It was only small, but he thought that it was fantastic that the the books little girl had a thing for older men, if her seeming attraction to him and Aso were anything to go by. He was certain that her late mother would have a pink kitten over it and that made him giddy. Though, he should know better than to read into tokens.

  He voiced that and was immediately met with Aso’s disapproval and Kyoko’s laughter. She was noncommittal regarding it; flirtatious, playful. But they all agreed that they were all growing closer to one another. They liked to be with one another, liked touching one, they couldn’t imagine not living together and so on and so forth. In turn, feelings muddied.

  Aso took particular issue to this revelation; lipstick laden and airy with cackling smiles. He didn’t think that his heart could heal after his late wife’s passing. It felt like an insult to her memory – and all the memories of their love, particularly those of their wedding day which was the epitome of monogamy – to move on with not just another woman, and a younger one at that, but a man too.

 All he could do was concede that Kyoko was a young woman of twenty-three and she was therefore entitled to do as she liked. So, she gave him a kiss on the other side of his face. It was scratchy, bristly, but she liked it. He liked it too. Genome disliked it but out of fairness, Kyoko bestowed him with a kiss first, so he took some pride in that. Internally, both men had the same thought, funnily enough, regarding being kissed by this young woman: Kyoko had rather nice lips so that nice courier guy, with his broken heart somewhere, was missing out.

  It was strange but despite that little incident, their relationships didn’t really go anywhere new or further. They liked what they had; whatever it was: trauma bonding, genuine love, or something else. It was theirs, real and solid, and that’s what mattered.

  Not too long later, perhaps around two weeks but no more, they finished their coding and made what was their holy grail. They created a program which infinitely reeled off the possibilities and potentials of the Ignis: with it, they could deduce the location of where they hid, their precious Cyberse World, and then they discovered they could use it to understand what exactly the creatures were capable of.

  And the culmination of that discovery was nothing good. The Ignis, destined to be the inheritors of humanity, were not the saviours that they were intended as being. Perhaps it made sense. No good could come from such heinous origins. So, it was quickly decreed by Dr Kogami that his beloved creations were to be destroyed.

  The news weighed low on their shoulders.

  Aso finally found his answer. He had joined this bizarre and inhumane mission because he wanted to see her face again: that gentle smile, her blonde curls, her darling eyes. He didn’t want to remember her wrinkled skin and her rotted teeth. After all, he had been the one to oversee the vulnerabilities of these creatures and he had helped create monsters impervious to conventional means of harm. He wanted to resurrect her and protect her from that which had killed her. So, he sought to find a means of invincibility, invulnerability, immortality. That had been his greatest contribution to this accursed project because he was a soulful man, afraid of how things end. Now, it became his duty to create weaponry which could bring harm to the Ignis.

  Still, he took this new duty with great seriousness. That helped to ease the burden. The guilt. The despair.

  And so, their little family unit changed once more. They were not a family. They were a cell. They were a young prince, his retainer, and his lieutenants. They were ready to take arms against the threat that no one but they knew of. They took new names, new identities, well most of them, save Genome and Spectre, and one day, two years later, their research and their plans all came to fruition.

  Master Revolver began his father’s crusade. Pointless, violent…

  He was just thirteen, but this was the destiny he was imprisoned to and he took it all in stride.

  The assault blasted through the Ignis’ haven. It tore through them all, trapped by an enacted plan but one of them had evaded it. How annoying. And in that, it – and ergo, the rest of its kin – were able to escape. The green crumbled around Revolver and he continued his pursuit as supported by his lieutenants and his second-in-command.

  This pursuit continued for five years.

  Those five years felt like forever. They doggedly chased down the lone Ignis who had survived the onslaught, protecting his brethren as he went. They followed through with other orders. They became to cultivate a presence online which was supposed to give them supremacy and a mask for their other activities. They obeyed Dr Kogami stringently, doing as he said, following through his bidding both on and offline.

  And somewhere between it all, they realised that things change, and some things stay the same.

  The things which stayed the same were the sweet moments after twilight when they could resemble some sort of functioning family unit, but it was true that there was a different dynamic pulling through. It was unsettling. Ryoken had been made the head of their project and that meant that adults whom he was upwards of a decade junior to, bow to him. He didn’t like it, but he took upon the responsibility with good grace. He knew when to play the kid – when they were eating ice-cream and talking about the day – and when he needed to play the adult.

  Other changes came later. Some more dramatic than others. Small ones were such as how Spectre dropped out of school first. He was about twelve or thirteen when they decided that he couldn’t keep going as he was; not to mention they were always scared that someone, someday, might recognise their little ghost and that was becoming a risk. Moreover, he kept getting into fights. Fights that he couldn’t win because he didn’t know to brawl; he only knew polite spars between himself and Ryoken. He didn’t – couldn’t – get along with the others in his class, so it was decided that he would be home-schooled. At least that way, he could refine his intellect in ways he saw fit; he was a good student, no matter how misanthropic his personality. He had a keen mind when it came to biology and psychology.

  Bigger changes were like how Kyoko left the nest first. She got a job. She was accepted into Den City Hospital with flying colours; they were grovelling at her feet, wanting her that bad. She couldn’t say no to that. At first, it was fine but then they decided that it was best if she were to live alone for a bit. They needed to build up an acceptable persona for the untrue Taki Kyoko. They didn’t want people prying, snooping, coming too close to their base of operations, so she went out and go an apartment to themselves.

  But even though that was a change, and a rather big one, with moving furniture and more, it split some of their redundant routine too. She, Aso, and Genome all had plenty of nights, wasted and having fun despite all which hung over them. Jobs, money, insecurity, anxiety, guilt, shame, responsibilities and more.

  It was a nice little flat. It was where they had all had sex for the first time. It felt only right to, once the last of Kyoko’s things had moved in, they all figured it needed christening since none of them were game to do more than a rather chaste quickie at the Kogami residence. It felt wrong on the account of all sorts of factors, but it was a taboo that they had certainly flirted with countless times without ever going too far. They had fooled around together in all sorts of contexts and combinations, but this was the first time that all clothes were off – and so were all the bets.

  In the morning after, they all shared cigarettes among themselves. It was cliché and none of them were heavy smokers, but there was something cheeky about the feeling of nicotine after sex-induced sleep. Kyoko was happy with herself. That had certainly been more fun than the night she had lost her virginity. Aso was humiliated. He hadn’t been properly laid since his wife and he had to admit, between the two of them, Kyoko and Genome, they were pretty good. Genome was blasé. He had been apart of better orgies, but this was the first threesome that he could imagine getting sentimental over.

  Moments, nights and days, like that one almost lulled them into a false sense of security. Aso and Genome returned to the house later, having all but abandoned their little charges, fourteen and sixteen respectively at this point, and they had news. Whilst the adults in their lives had out been cavorting, they had been communing with the dead and the dead decided that he wanted company.

  Two years. It was decided that in two years, if the Ignis was not recaptured and destroyed, then it was time for their most drastic plan. They would simply eradicate the whole of the Link VRAINS to snuff out those damnable creatures and they would take all the collateral damage as it happened. If gone through with, it would be a historic and abominable crime.

  And it was decided unanimously that the Tower of Hanoi was to be their trump card; their last resort; and it was looking likelier by the day that it would come to completion. With the appearance of the one called Playmaker, it seemed that all their worst fears were to be realised; doubly so when he managed to do in one night what they had spent years try to do: he captured the Ignis.

  Furthermore, with each clash Playmaker had against Revolver, it brought them both closer and nowhere to their goal. In the end, there was only one certainty: death. All or nothing. Preparations were being made. Monsters slinked in the sewers and worse ones manifested inside their heads as they came to terms with it.

  After ten years, it seemed like it would never come. Time was finicky like that. But, at least they still a few days before time trumped them for good. It was hard to look beyond that. It just seemed like nothingness, like a cold blackness, or worse: maybe a fiery pit of hell. Regardless, Aso took them to that riverbank hill one last time. It was his favourite place to have some quiet time; feel the wind in his hair and the smell of water, no matter how polluted, in the air.

  Genome liked that hill. He would never tell his partners this but when he was a kid, he used to do all sorts of things on that hill. Everything from flying kites to playing Duel Monsters; he would study, smoke, and more down in that grass, under the bridge, and even in the shallows of the water, where there were pebbles and sometimes fish. And he liked this hill even better with his two, most favourite people. Especially since, he recalled that ten years ago, they came here without him but had brought Ryoken in tow; presumably to give him one last taste of childhood before all that could happen. Not that Genome could relate. He was playfully – and unironically – cruel.

  The night was young by the time they arrived. They couldn’t see stars; too early, too smoggy, but it was still nice to be out. There was a pleasant breeze, uncharacteristic to the time of year but they appreciated it. Especially since it didn’t play with their lighters and cigarettes. They were sharing two cigarettes between the three of them. Indirect kisses for adults, too old for pocky and the like. The echo of Kyoko’s lipstick on the orange-brown filter made the gentlemen smile as they passed it amongst themselves until they didn’t have anything left to smoke. Snuffed out in the grass.

  They watched the city skyline move with their breaths, between slats of neon lights and shadows. There was nothing to talk about, or maybe there was too much to talk about, so they sat in companionable silence, perhaps coveting a drink or something else but it all just seemed so far away.

  Just like ten years ago, when they were strangers. Now look at them: prepared to die as the most important people that they had ever had.