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five-rivers · 3 years ago

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Long Night in the Valley Chapter 15

It's been a bit, hasn't it?

Toshinori pushed himself up off the ground with trembling arms. Although, by the position of the sun, it hadn’t been for long, he’d blacked out when—

“Oh, no,” said Toshinori. His head throbbed at the sound, making the edges of his vision go dark and fuzzy.

When All for One had broken through into the shared mindscape.

“Oh, no,” he repeated.

Where was Izuku? He had to find—Oh, thank goodness, Izuku was right there. He let out a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived. Izuku, to put it lightly, did not look well. His eyes were open, but only glazed slivers. His breath was coming shallow and fast, not quite to the point of hyperventilating, but it was a close thing. His skin was pale, except for deep, bruise-like circles under his eyes. He was sweating more than Toshinori had ever seen him sweat (which was really saying something; Izuku broke out into nervous sweats with some frequency). Perhaps most concerningly, he was shaking like a leaf.

Izuku was, Toshinori realized, still maintaining the effect of Two’s quirk.

He tried to reach inside himself, contact his predecessors, but swiftly pulled his mental fingers back, as if they had been burned. Bad idea.

“Izuku,” he said, “can you hear me?”

Izuku made a small, pained noise that tore at Toshinori’s heart.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he said. Izuku didn’t answer, but then Toshinori didn’t expect him to.

The simple act forced Toshinori to call on the embers of One for All. Not enough to make his muscles swell, but enough to give him the strength of an ordinary, healthy man. His muscles and his remaining intact lung screamed in protest, not to mention his scars. He ignored them.

He stumbled forward, priorities shuffling themselves. They’d been trying to escape, but if Izuku was this ill… he needed a doctor. An exorcist might be a good idea, too, what with All for One running around in their heads.

But to get a doctor, they’d have to put themselves in commission hands, and Toshinori could feel the echoes of Two and Three telling him exactly how stupid that would be.

The commission had sent Hawks after Izuku. Toshinori had no doubt they’d throw him in Tartarus, and the treatment of criminals in Tartarus was one of the few things Toshinori had publicly disagreed with the HPSC on in his hero persona. Not that it had gone anywhere. He simply hadn’t had the time to really push it and the commission had somehow managed to paint him as somehow too good, too forgiving, to be trusted when it came to the disposition of terrible villains.

“’ll be’kay,” mumbled Izuku, the sentiment clearer over their mental link. “N’ospital.”

“Okay,” said Toshinori, slightly breathless. “Let’s—Let’s keep going, then. Find a good place to camp out, far away from Todoroki Touya, here. Yep.” He was aware he was rambling, and needlessly at that, but he couldn’t help it.

One foot in front of the other.

Was that a car running?

Toshinori, keen on getting help and care for Izuku, even if it meant hijacking a car, changed directions slightly. Of course, it would be ideal if there were friendly bystanders who didn’t believe the hero commissions lies and had a medical license and a healing quirk, but Toshinori would be more than happy with—

He stopped. Laughed. Laughed some more, a little hysterically. There, abandoned in a ditch like a beached sailing ship, was Vlad King’s much abused car.

Sure, it would have been reported stolen by now, and the police and heroes would be looking for it, but that was a problem for future-Toshinori. Present-Toshinori, on the other hand, was simply grateful for the windfall, and wary – the presence of the car could indicate the proximity of the League of Villains.

He gently put Izuku down in the passenger seat, turned the car off and made sure it was in the appropriate gear, then walked around to the back of the car and lifted it out of the ditch.

If his muscles had been complaining before—

He staggered back to the driver’s seat, leaning heavily on the side of the car the whole time. Blood dripped from his mouth. “This is nothing, my boy, nothing,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, as he felt Izuku’s concern press heavily against him. “Used to have worse every day of the week.”

Toshinori got the sense that Izuku was not, in fact, reassured. Nevertheless, he grinned, pouring every drop of his fabled ‘everything will be alright’ smile into the expression. Even if Izuku couldn’t see it, Toshinori needed some of the comfort that came with donning a familiar mask

“Let’s see if we can get to the Wild Wild Pussycats today, after all.”

“Eri-chan,” began Abe, tapping together her papers. She’d drawn the short stick. Ito was interviewing one of the older students, and Abe got the feral child.

“No,” said Eri.

“I didn’t even ask you a question yet.”

“Only people I like get to call me -chan. That’s the rule. Prinzible Nezu said so.”

“Principal,” corrected Nezu, cheerfully, like the unhelpful rodent rat bastard he was. If only she could have gotten him kicked out… but, no, he and Present Mic were both sitting in on the interview.

“PrincipalNezu told me, and he’s in charge.”

“You tell ‘em, Eri-chan!” said Present Mic, just a little more loudly than was comfortable.

Eri nodded to let Present Mic know the noise-cancelling earplugs were working.

“In this situation,” said Abe, sternly, “I am in charge.”

The girl tilted her head, and suddenly her expression went from ‘pouting child’ to ‘superior being contemplating an uppity insect.’

“Eri-san,” began Abe.

“No,” said Eri.

Abe looked up incredulously. What was wrong with -san?

She decided to ignore it. “You spoke with—”

Eri began to scream like a teakettle whistling.

“Can’t you control her?” Abe demanded, turning to Nezu, who chittered.

“This is very good progress!” he said, barely loud enough to hear over the ongoing shriek. “Before now, Eri-chan was too hesitant to act out or misbehave in any way, fearing the punishment that her former and completely unqualified caretakers would inflict upon her.”

Abe didn’t know which was more longwinded, the still-screaming child or the rodent principal. Her body was so tiny, how was she still screaming?

Eri clicked off the Present Mic-themed combo audio recorder and player in her pocket at the same time she shut her mouth. Principal Nezu was right! This was fun! At least, it would be if Deku was here.

“I get to pick what you call me,” said Eri, patiently. Since this person wasn’t smart enough to see that Deku was only the best hero ever and not a bad guy, she’d have to explain slowly.

The person evidently wasn’t even smart enough to breathe, as she was slowly turning purple.

“What,” she said, in stilted tones, “would you like me to call you.”

Eri let the smile Aizawa had taught her spread across her face. “Eri-sama.”

“Is that a joke?”

“It’s very important to respect the boundaries children establish, Abe-san,” said Nezu.

Katsuki blinked. It was about time he woke up. Stupid dream time dilation or whatever. Stupid boring soy sauce face and his stupid boring mindscape dreamscape whatever hellscape. There was a limit to what you could do in a square mile that mostly consisted of a tape-covered jungle gym and a boring apartment building. Katsuki had found it, and, after spending a good period of time being angry about it, had decided to go to sleep.

Dream time dilation or whatever the commission proctor had been going on about after the first billionty-and-one stupid hours, it didn’t matter, Katsuki hated it, it was just taking too damn long. If he didn’t have to do this to keep his provisional license, he’d tell the commission to shove this stupid pointless training up it’s—

About a minute after he should have twigged to something wrong, Katsuki realized the ceiling was too familiar.

He sat up. Why the hell was he in UA’s infirmary?

And not just him, about half the class was here with him.

He scowled. So, something had gone wrong with the test after all, and it looked like Deku wasn’t involved. Stupid nerd would hold it over him.

“Hey!” shouted Katsuki, spotting Recovery Girl. “What the f—”

“Language!” scolded Recovery Girl, shrilly, practically teleporting across the room to jab Katsuki with her cane. “You’re in a school, young man.”

“I know that!” protested Katsuki. “But why the f—” he faltered under the force Recovery Girl’s gaze even as she started to run through the checklist she usually did for people who’d been knocked out like wimps. “Fudge. Am I here.”

“I think the more pertinent question is, how are you awake? There should be at least one more hour, if not two, left to that quirk.”

“I went to sleep,” said Katsuki, attempting to fend her off.

“Well, you wouldn’t be waking up if—”

“No. In the shhhtupid dreamscape thing. I went to sleep.”

Recovery Girl paused for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t suppose you were the one whose mind they were exploring?”

“No. That was soy sauce face. Why are we back here? And where’s the nerd?”

Recovery Girl seemed to droop at his question, and a heaviness filled the air. “That’s a long story.”

“Did we get attacked by Dusty McGee again?”

“No.”

“So, what did happen?” snapped Katsuki. “The nerd break out a new quirk in the middle of the training or something?”

Recovery Girl’s eye twitched, and she sat down on a nearby stool, taking a deep breath.

“The hero commission suspected Midoriya of working with the League of Villains and attempted to use the training to interrogate him. Under the influence of at least one mental quirk, Midoriya fled. At about the same time, All Might left and met up with him, after which the commission accused Midoriya of kidnapping All Might. They haven’t given him an S-Rank villain classification, but I suspect that’s just because the paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.”

All right. Honestly, with his creepy stalker notebooks and obsessive All Might shrine room, Deku probably seemed like a prime kidnapping suspect to an outsider, but considering that Katsuki had witnessed Deku and All Might’s sickeningly sweet interpersonal interactions, somehow managing to be a goddamn third wheel to some sort of surrogate parent-child found family drama nonsense…

“Has anyone told ‘em it’s more likely the other way around? And that if it was, it’d probably be for the nerd’s own good, too?”

Recovery Girl nodded tiredly.

“They hiding out here?”

“Midoriya is a wanted criminal.”

“So what?”

“We’re a school.”

“You’ve lost me.”

Recovery Girl sighed. “No, Midoriya is not here.”

“Well, that’s stupid. What are we doing about it?”

“Right now? You are doing nothing. Commission investigators are in the building, and it would be better if they thought you were still unconscious.”

Katsuki grumbled. “Should go and try to bring him back.”

“What, so he can be arrested?”

“No!” said Katsuki, defensively. “But he’s probably running around out there making everything worse!”

“Bakugo,” said Recovery Girl, patting his leg, “from what I’ve heard, the only thing that could possibly make this worse is being found.”

“Can you describe to me the circumstances under which you lost your quirk?” asked Ito, the other commission investigator.

“Sure!” said Mirio, hoping the man couldn’t detect his discomfort at the subject. Even if he’d made that split second choice to shield Eri with his body with full knowledge of the consequences, to jump in front of Nemoto’s bullet, it was still a traumatic experience. It still hurt, even if he didn’t regret it.

He took a deep breath. “Well, it was during the Shie Hassaikai raid. I had gone ahead to confront Chisaki Kai and rescue Eri. There were a few other yakuza with him, members of the Eight Bullets. Nemoto Shin, Sakaki Deidoro, and, ah, Chrono, I think. I can’t remember his proper name.”

“That’s fine. Please continue.”

“I engaged with Sakaki and Nemoto while Chisaki and Chrono went ahead. I was affected by their quirks, but managed to get by… It was a hard battle!” he interjected, suddenly. He belatedly realized he wanted to draw out this line of questioning, and dove into a supremely detailed description of his fight with Sakaki and Nemoto. It was funny, too, and he saw Ito getting sucked in.

Sir would have been proud.

“And then, I chased after Chrono and Chisaki!” said Mirio, gesticulating wildly to illustrate his movements. He continued narrating the battle, the wild swings of fate, Eri’s hope and fear, the strikes and counterstrikes! Just like when he’d first debriefed after the raid.

Weirdly enough, going through it like this also made him feel better. Less like he was reliving a terrible, painful moment in his life, and more like he was telling a very dramatic story.

“—aaaaaaand,” he wrapped up, “Chisaki tossed the gun with the erasure bullets to Nemoto – I hadn’t realized he was still conscious. I’d been too worried about getting to Eri.” He shrugged. “I got shot.”

“Despite your quirk?”

“I didn’t want Eri to be hit.”

“Even though the loss of her quirk might have been a blessing for her? Considering the difficulty she has using it and the pain it gives her.”

Mirio felt his smile settle into something blander and more dangerous than his usual beaming grins. “Are you suggesting that I should have let a six-year-old be shot?”

“Not at all,” said Ito, making a mark. “Now, where was Midoriya at this time?”

“He hadn’t caught up to us, yet,” said Mirio. “He was with Sir.”

“Who?”

“Sir Nighteye,” clarified Mirio. “Before that, they were with Rock Lock and some of the others, I believe.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“I wasn’t there, so… no, not really. But the exact situation should be on file, from our debrief, and Rock Lock can confirm or clarify.”

“Only the parts he saw,” said Ito. “Did you try to use your quirk after that? Or did you simply assume it was gone?”

“Of course, I tried to use it!” said Mirio, feeling somewhat offended. “I’d trained it to be reflexive. Right after, I kept thinking my quirk would protect me, and moving too slow to dodge attacks. I got really beaten up.”

“And was this before or after Midoriya Izuku arrived?”

“Before, mostly,” said Mirio. “It isn’t like the fight stopped the minute he showed up.”

“And you are certain your quirk stopped working before Midoriya arrived.”

“I’m sure.”

“How did you know you were hit by a permanent quirk-erasing bullet?” asked Ito.

“Well, when my quirk didn’t come back we were pretty sure,” said Mirio.

“But you didn’t know beforehand, for certain, that the bullets were permanent.”

Crap. Mirio had screwed up somewhere in there. He could feel it.

“I think Nemoto and Chisaki were shouting at each other about it during the fight,” said Mirio. “They were pretty proud of it.”

“But you did not know, for sure, that your quirk loss was permanent,” insisted Ito. “There was no way for you to know that their claims about the bullets were true.”

“I mean… not really,” said Mirio. “But, again, here I am without a quirk.”

“Yes… but that isn’t the only way a person can lose a quirk, is it?”

“The Scourge of Kamino was already in Tartarus when the Shie Hassaikai raid took place,” said Mirio. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Did Midoriya Izuku come into contact with you before the end of the day?”

“We talked, yeah,” said Mirio.

“Physical contact.”

“Actually… no,” said Mirio. “After the fight, we were both whisked off to the hospital, separately. Midoriya came to visit me after we both got patched up, he felt guilty about not getting to me and Eri sooner, and--” Oh, dear, he’d have to think back on that conversation a bit more. Later. He swallowed. “--and… Sir’s death…” He looked down at his hands. “Sir… in retrospect, he didn’t like Midoriya very much, but his death hit Midoriya hard. First death in the line of duty. It… it was the first time I’d seen a hero die, too.”

“You’re quite certain he didn’t touch you? At all?” asked Ito, undeterred by Mirio’s not-at-all-feigned grief.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” said Mirio, now annoyed by the investigator’s callousness.

“I see.”

Ochako rubbed her eyes, but the darkness stayed. “What,” she said out loud, her voice somehow doing the opposite of echoing, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” said Todoroki. He had positioned himself so as to guard her back.

“There was a bang,” said Iida, “and then…” He trailed off, clearly finding just as much difficulty in describing the event as Ochako did thinking about it.

“They were talking about All for One getting in,” said Ochako. “You don’t think…?”

“Maybe we timed out the quirk and we’re about to wake up,” said Iida, optimistically.

“Where’s Aizawa-sensei?” asked Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Ochako. “He was standing with us… I mean, I couldn’t see you guys at first, either.”

“I’m here,” said Aizawa.

Ochako turned to see their teacher methodically scanning their black surroundings, his eyes red. “Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Do you think this is just, I don’t know, a new transition? A memory?”

“I don’t know,” said Aizawa. He blinked, eyes returning to their normal colors.

“It isn’t,” said an unfamiliar voice. The figure of a young man with uncut white hair slowly faded out of the darkness. “Hello.” He raised a hand. “I’m One. Or, I guess, you can call me Kazuki. Sorry about the landscape. Most of our mental resources were just rerouted.”

“Does this have something to do with that vault thing Izuku mentioned?” asked Ochako.

“Yes, sadly,” said One. “My brother’s broken out. Which means you really shouldn’t be here. All our minds are about to become battlefields. I have some techniques that might help you get out, but--”

“Six told me there was something taken from Midoriya that we could get back, if the vault was open. Is that still a thing?”

One raised a fist to his lips, and pressed down. “You understand, don’t you, that to search for this is to go into my brother’s mind?”

“If it’s to help Midoriya,” said Todoroki, stepping forward, “we’ll do anything.”

“That is very admirable of you,” said One. “I do mean that, I really do, and I’ve seen your heroics and spirit through Izuku’s eyes. But I’m not sending children to fight my brother. Eraserhead, you’d be going alone.”

“I can work with that,” said Aizawa.

“But we won’t be in any real danger!” protested Ochako. “The worst that could happen to us is that we’ll run out of time and wake up. Right?”

“Don’t underestimate my brother. Judging from the fight at Kamino, he lost a lot of quirk control and strength after his first fight with Eight, or else he’d never have been captured. But that’s only if we take it at face value. I don’t doubt that he has five or six plans in place to escape Tartarus and steal every interesting quirk in there, thereby increasing his power exponentially, or even healing himself.”

Ochako blinked. How would anyone heal from… Wait. “Overhaul.”

One’s smile was a bitter thing. “I certainly wouldn’t have put the two of them in the same prison.”

The villain at Kamino, already strong enough to go toe to toe with All Might, with Overhaul's power? Ochako shuddered.

"What did he take from Midoriya?" asked Aizawa. "I'm going to need to know before I do this."

"You're sure you want to do this, then?"

"I haven't decided."

One sighed and pushed his hair back, out of his face. Ochako was struck, momentarily, by how the color of his eyes perfectly matched Izuku's.

"My brother took what he always takes," said One. "His quirk."

"But!" protested Ochako. "He has a quirk! He has..." she trailed off as another revelation hit her.

"He…" said Iida, next to her, "has several quirks."

"He has your quirk," said Todoroki with one-hundred-percent unwavering confidence.

"You had a quirk like All for One," said Aizawa. "But considering what we've seen… the quirk to pass on quirks?"

"That's why you call yourselves by numbers! Because that's the order you had the quirk in!" added Ochako.

"I prefer thinking of it as the ability to share quirks," said One, "but since everyone but Eight and Nine is dead, the distinction is academic."

Aizawa sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Okay, let me get this straight. You and... your brother both had meta quirks. He could… give and take quirks. You could just pass your own quirk on. He decided to become a criminal mastermind. You decided to, I don't know, invest your quirk until someone had enough quirks to fight your brother?"

"And they're all related," said Todoroki.

"And you're all related," said Aizawa with an air of suffering.

"It was significantly less intentional and more complicated than that, but, yes, those are the basics."

"And, for some reason, All Might thought that it was a good idea to pick a teenager for the job."

"In his defense, Eight thought my brother was dead. The one you should really be throwing shade at is Seven."

"I have questions."

One tilted his head. "Normally, I would answer them, but we're running out of time."

Aizawa sighed. "Alright. I'll do it."

"We want to help, too!" said Ochako.

"Three will find a way to ghost murder me if I get you involved in a fight with my brother."

"So would I, incidentally," said Aizawa, "and then I'd expel all of them."

Iida cleared his throat. "Is there any way for us to help without coming into contact with All for One?”

“Yes,” said One, clapping his hands together. “Getting out before that Suzuki fellow does and giving Izuku some good publicity.”

One’s image seemed to waver and split, then, as if Ochako had crossed her eyes. She blinked, hard, but after that there were still two of them.

“I’ll lead you to my brother’s mind,” said one of the Ones, waving at Aizawa.

“I’ll stay and try to help the rest of you get out,” said the second One. “We should - Oh.”

“Oh?” repeated Aizawa. “‘Oh,’ what?”

“Oh, we forgot about someone,” said One.

“Oh,” said All for One, catching sight of an anomaly. “Who is this little intruder to our gathering?”

“Just some government lackey,” said Miranda, hands still for now, but in a position where she could likely summon ball lightning in a matter of minutes. “Not someone you can use as a hostage.”

“Actually,” said Ryuji, who, unusually, had yet to disappear from All for One’s senses, “if you could figure out a way to get rid of him, it would be convenient.”

“Two!” snapped Nana.

“Come on, we were all thinking it,” said Ryuji.

“You can’t use a him as a murder weapon,” hissed Nana. “Nine will get in trouble.”

“You’rethe one who repeatedly dropped him from a dozen stories up. And the one who was fantasizing about murdering him in real life.”

“That daydream could have belonged to anyone.”

“It had Gran Torino in it.”

“Eight knows Gran, too!”

All for One coughed, returning the full attention of the vestiges to himself. “Is this a pathetic attempt at a distraction?”

“Do you know any other adjectives?” asked his little brother, who was slouching off to the side with his hands in his pockets.

All for One sneered. “Are you not taking this seriously?”

“Not really, no,” said Kazuki, “and neither are you, or else we’d be fighting already. We both know that what you can affect here is limited.” He started counting off on his fingers. “You can’t bring us back with you, you can’t affect Nine’s morality, you can’t take the stockpile, you--”

“I knew it!” shrieked the little intruder, jabbing a finger at All for One. “I knew it! You’re All for One! Midoriya is working for you!”

“Hey, if you’re going to do the sibling thing and prove me wrong about the whole ‘can’t do anything’ thing, can I suggest you start with him?”

All for One narrowed his eyes and scanned his relatives. There was an uncharacteristic lack of protest.

“Are you briar patching?”

“No,” said Hibiki, “they’re quite serious. I personally would prefer it if you didn’t kill him, but not enough to risk myself.”

He could always trust Hibiki to be blunt and straightforward. He got it from his wonderfully forthright and businesslike mother. He hadn’t loved her like he loved his current, still-living spouse, but she had been refreshing.

“Mood,” said Rokuya.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” said dear, sweet Izuku, raising a hand, “but I’m not actually comfortable letting All for One kill him in front of us.”

“Don’t try that now! You’ve shown your true colors, traitor!”

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Daigoro, “we’re pretty sure he won’t be able to.”

“Torture, then.”

“Not sure he can do worse than Nana did.”

“All I did was drop him!” protested Nana.

“Repeatedly, from a great height,” Miranda reminded her.

Everyone was much more relaxed, now, and… were they ignoring him? They were!

“Are you all under the effect of a quirk?”

“Yeah,” said Kazuki. “How else do you think this is happening?”

“No, I mean… your personalities… they’re all…” He gestured at the One for All users who had stopped to watch him.

“Niichan, I’ve tried to tell you this before, but at least for me, I’m not all that great a person. You just suck so enormously that I look like a saint in comparison.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is,” said Kazuki. “I mean, think back to our first argument. I was less concerned with your overall morality and more concerned with the fact that the demon king alway loses--”

“Excuse you, but I’ve beaten every one of you.”

“No you haven’t,” said Hibiki. “I, at least, died with no input from you.”

“Killing you is obviously different from beating you,” said All for One.

“I mean, by the time you chucked me in that vault, it had evolved to a moral and ethical complaint,” said Kazuki, his one visible eye unfocused in remembrance. “But it started out with me worried about you getting yourself killed.”

“No it didn’t.”

“It really did. You know, I don’t think I ever told you this, but if you’d been twenty percent more ethical? I would have absolutely been on your side.”

“What.”

“I mean, it was you, the government, and ragtag resistance groups, and the government sucked.”

“I can confirm that,” said Miranda, “and it continues to be disgustingly corrupt. But since you’re also swimming through the human experimentation cesspit, we’re staying where we are. Don’t get any ideas.” She ended the sentence with a hiss and fog started rolling in.

“I agree that if you stayed away from the kidnapping, murder, and cult stuff, I would have probably stayed with you,” said Ryuji. “Except you did do all that stuff… Why are we even talking about this?”

“I would add personal freedom to the list of things I’d want from you in the hypothetical world where we stayed on the same side,” said Hibiki, “but, otherwise, I agree.”

All for One blinked several times, a small part of his mind cherishing the fact that he had eyes. “Do you all feel that way?” he asked, oddly touched but also strangely disturbed.

“No,” said Daigoro, “the rest of us hate you and the government just about equally.”

All for One turned his gaze to the quivering ‘government lackey.’ “I see. So, I suppose I have the government to thank for this turn of events. Hm? What did you do to have these soft-hearted fools so upset with you?”

The little man squeaked and jabbed something like an epi-pen into his leg. A second later, he vanished.

“Wait,” said Izuku. “Wait. THAT’S how to get out? That’s so stupid! Can we do that?” The last was said as an aside to Nana.

“Not with him here,” said Miranda. Her voice had dropped back into its more dangerous registers.

“Oh, so we are going to fight after all,” said All for One, clapping his hands and smiling. “What fun.”

“I can’t believe you distracted him and got Suzuki to leave like that,” said Aizawa as they stepped out of the fog.

“Well, my brother always did like to hear the sound of his own voice. And be a jerk, but I’m sure that was obvious,” said One. They came to a stop in front of a normal-looking apartment building. One sighed. “This is where we lived,” he said. “Before…” He sighed again.

Aizawa examined One out of the corner of his eyes. He looked tired.

“How much of what you said back there was true?”

“Huh? Most of it, really. My successors built me up as some kind of big good, but I was never anything but a normal guy with a slightly more functional moral compass than my brother.”

From what Aizawa had seen so far, he suspected One was seriously underselling himself.

“I’m sorry,” said One, “but I’m going to have to leave you here. Nine’s quirk should look like a younger version of himself. He couldn’t have been any older than five when it was taken.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“Sorry, not really… I’ve not exactly been inside my brother’s head. If you manage to find a switch labeled ‘empathy,’ you might take a second to flip it on. Or not. Could be booby trapped. Wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Great,” said Aizawa.

“Midoriya-san,” said Mr. Compress. “We’ve been searching for quite some time now, I hate to say it, but I rather suspect that your son has thoroughly escaped.”

“Escaped,” repeated Midoriya. “Like a prisoner.”

Mr. Compress coughed into his fist. Tomura glared at him through a fog of exhaustion. He was wearing a mask. Why bother with the fist at all? Sometimes, Tomura felt like the only sane person on a planet of aliens.

“Honestly, we didn’t even know he was in the area, Midoriya-san. But… Perhaps at this point, the best course of action would be to return to our, uh… temporary base so that you can get some clothes. I’m sure Dabi will have something that can fit you.”

“Or maybe,” said Toga, hesitantly, “Magne might have had something?”

“Excellent idea, Himiko! Yes, I’m sure Magne’s clothes will be much more appropriate.”

“I don’t know that dressing her in a dead woman’s clothes is a good idea?” whispered Twice.

“Normally,” said Midoriya Inko, “I would say that the fires of my anger at Hisashi provide me with enough warmth to scorch the ground I walk on but—” she shivered, “—unfortunately you may be right. I’m not a young woman anymore, and Izuku would want me to be safe and healthy. So that I can give Hisashi a… firm talking to.”

Tomura shuddered. The ice in her tone was more frigid than the toilet seat in their stupid unheated bathroom at night.

… He hoped Sensei didn’t get a mind reading quirk in the near future. He definitely didn’t want him to know about that metaphor.

“Machia, will you be a dear and take us back? And Mr. Compress, would you put Dr. Garaki back in one of your marbles? I suspect he’ll be… more comfortable that way.”

At least Tomura wasn’t the doctor.

Machia leaned down and let them all get on, though not before fixing Tomura with a glare and delivering some glitchy threat about the ‘Little Lord’ and ‘playing nice.’ Completely redundant, what with Midoriya Inko’s much more pertinent and detailed threat regarding the same thing.

“Hey,” said Twice. “Do you guys smell--? It’s like a barbecue!”

Himiko sniffed the air. “It does smell kinda smokey, guys. Do you think Dabi got in a fight, too?”

“With who?” asked Tomura.

“Well, Izu-chan has to still be around here somewhere, right?” asked Himiko, putting a finger to her lips.

Machia sped up.

“It’s probably just the wind blowing someone’s bonfire smoke this way,” said Spinner.

Machia slowed down again.

Tomura frowned. “There shouldn’t be anyone close enough for that,” he said. If Dabi had set the forest on fire and given away their position, he was going to murder him.

Machia sped up again.

They came into sight of their current base and the source of the smoke.

These happened to be the same thing.

“I’m going to kill Dabi,” said Tomura.

“Are we sure it was him?” asked Twice.

“I don’t care.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 13: ADDY (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

His world was made up of many books and his sister.

Immediately after being called a genius brother, his life changed. They took him out of a school where ordinary children gathered and told him to study in a place where all the people around him were adults. There was no dissatisfaction or loneliness about it. He did not find anything funny in the school lessons that tried to teach what he already knew in a simple and one-sided way, and even in an environment without children of the same age, there was no problem as long as he had his older sister.

For him, a large number of books was better than a teacher, and the knowledge he gained from discussions with his sister became more and more profound. With his sister, he was absorbed in learning various things with his intellectual curiosity. The adults around them generously gave them what they needed to learn.

They told him to take part in the German military investigation when he was fifteen and his sister was seventeen.

They joined the military investigation team as requested. It was a tribute to the fact that they were given an environment to learn, and he also thought that the research and development site would be a place where they could play an active role.

Starting with the development and design of new weapons in the Artillery Board, they achieved several results. Apart from military research and development work, they wrote several treatises and obtained a doctorate. The teenage brothers' medical advancements were well received and sought after in the military, architecture, industry, and many other fields, and they did well everywhere.

It was in 1943, when he was 20 years old, that they were appointed chief and deputy director of a strange investigation.

"This is the Slate."

In the basement of a church in Dresden, he crossed his arms in front of the huge stone. Next door, his sister, Claudia, looked at him with a serious expression.

"Yes. This was embedded in the innermost wall of this underground worship hall until two years ago. There were rumors that a believer might see a miracle, and the institution of 'ancestral inheritance' excavated it. Due to this size, they did not carry it out and keep it here. Two months ago, in front of the guards, the same miracle that the believers saw happened."

He stood with his head held high when he heard the words of an investigator who was to be a subordinate in this investigation.

"It is a procession of the Holy Sun Han. A few feather insects formed a procession with a bright red light in front of this 'stone slate', and finally they were burned."

Well. The researcher looked deeply.

He approached the "Slate" and gently touched the surface with a geometric maze-like pattern.

It felt like a smooth rock. The hardness did not appear to be that high to the touch. However, the usual method has been found not to harm one.

"I wonder if the 'Slate' emits some kind of energy that affects living organisms. What do you think, sister?"

The older sister squeezed her kind expression, always smiling, and looked at the "Slate" with investigative eyes.

"It is too early to hypothesize that this bedrock itself is energetic. Perhaps the cause of the St. Johann procession was direct contact with the energetic magma or residual heat from the rock. I need a verification multifaceted."

"Yes. It seems that the truth of magma is a long way off, but let's start with the observation. It is very interesting. This 'Slate' has tremendous potential that no one has touched yet."

"I am also curious about the inscription on the stone monument that was excavated with the 'Slate'. The word 'King' written in modified Latin letters."

"I think the investigation begins in that area. It is a good place to probe, but it is very exciting, sister!"

When he returned his smile with his growing expectations and curiosity, she smiled as if she was in awe.

"Addy. You're like a kid again..."

Even if they called him a doctor, he would still be a child. With his sister, he was a free-spirited younger brother who was intellectually curious and enjoyed chasing what was in front of him, much like a child playing with toys.

"I feel like I can do it if you are with me, sister."

That said, the investigation on the "Slate" was extremely difficult.

He was appointed principal investigator of the investigation called "Project König", and his sister was appointed deputy director, and the elite investigators and the most modern equipment were prepared, but it was difficult to see the progress that seemed to be progressing.

To study the miracle, they first had to recreate the miracle. However, there was a long way to go to find out what factors could cause it.

For the moment, it took time to prepare all the measuring equipment, restore and decipher the pieces of the stone monument.

The investigation progressed dramatically after a Japanese officer arrived from Japan, an ally of the Third German Empire, in March of the following year.

Lieutenant Daikaku Kokujoji.

The encounter with him was important in his investigation of the "Slate" and in his life.

"It was an idea that he couldn't reach unless he met the Japanese magic lieutenant."

As he walked down the hall with his research materials, he said that he was ill. The lieutenant walking beside him flirted with a serious face.

"The opinions of the magic side would have been unacceptable to you, but thanks to the fluid understanding of the theoretical system based on the Five Element Thought, the progress of the investigation was rapid."

Lieutenant Kokujoji seemed to come from an "Onmyouji family" and was connected to a path that could only be described as "Japanese magic". The analysis of the "Slate" that the lieutenant had made from that perspective had taken a leap forward in the investigation of the brothers.

The Five Pillars is an idea based on the five elements of wood, fire, earth, gold and water. It seems that the "Slate", which suppresses the original power by sealing one of the items, was simply sealed like this.

The lieutenant used his technique to break a part of the seal and gave him knowledge. To be honest, he was too unknown to come to a full understanding, but he was able to continue developing equipment to operate the "Slate", and his sister and he built the theory of the energy that the "Slate" possesses.

"I don't think science is everything. If you stick only to the world you are aware of, you cannot wait for development. Thanks to the lieutenant, my world has expanded and I am sure it will expand even more in the future. W deflection modulator seems to be able to start early next year if it is in this condition."

He and the lieutenant were in the process of carrying out the institute's reports.

The Institute of the "König Project" uses the basement of the church where the "Slate" was found as it is. The place that should have been harsh is sacred because it is buried with various research equipment and materials. The air had completely vanished, but it was a familiar place to him, like his nest. In fact, his sister and he were building a house in a corner of this church. It was a small place for the brothers to live while they remodeled.

"Addy."

He hears a soft female voice. When he saw her, Claudia was across the hall.

The older sister who left the area where they lived approached them with a short run.

The lieutenant who stopped next to her seemed to stiffen his spine and was a little nervous. But this was not a bad tension. It is a thoughtful attitude of a young man towards a woman of strange age, and a reaction of a man named Kokujoji Daikaku towards a woman named Claudia Weismann who is "a little excited".

When she arrived in front of them, she first bowed slightly to the lieutenant. Her silver hair flowed smoothly from her shoulders. She had a soft smile on her gentle and delicate face.

His sister's facial expressions and movements were very graceful, but this is a bit different than when they were alone. In front of him, she came out more "squeaky", but with the lieutenant, she became a little softer and more feminine. A woman named Claudia Weismann was shown in front of a man named Daikaku Kokujoji, like a cute kitten.

"Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Kokujoji. Addy, are you ready to go to Berlin?"

"Yes. These are all supplies to bring."

He slightly lifted the box of supplies he was holding on his arm.

He was about to go to the party headquarters in Berlin to report on the current status of the "König Project". His sister and he were heading to Berlin with the lieutenant to explain that the long-defeated "Slate" investigation had finally progressed.

When he got up from the basement and opened the church door, it was raining outside. Large raindrops fell to the ground.

"It's raining. It's bad if the material gets wet..."

"No problem. I have an umbrella. Use it."

The lieutenant said that and opened an umbrella.

It was a red Japanese umbrella.

The skeleton was made of bamboo and lined with elegant red Japanese paper. The waterproof Japanese paper had a low sheen.

"Wow, a Japanese umbrella? It's cool."

"It's called an umbrella."

His sister, not the lieutenant, replied him, who gave a voice of admiration.

His sister had become thoroughly familiar with Japanese culture since she met the lieutenant. After the lieutenant sorted the Japanese ingredients that he received from his homeland, she became very interested in Japanese food, and had recently been thinking about it herself.

His older sister slid her slender finger over the bamboo handle of the lieutenant's umbrella.

"This is the first time I have seen something real. The skeleton is very beautiful."

His sister looked happily at the umbrella with a face that seemed delighted. The sound of raindrops falling on Japanese paper was a bit different from the sound of an ordinary umbrella and was pleasant to the ear.

"I want to go to Japan one day. In fact, I will see the culture and climate of the country where the lieutenant was born and raised."

His sister's suggestion made his heart stand out.

"I like it! Lieutenant, please give us a guide at that time."

She wondered if she would get a small answer, like a little carefree, but the lieutenant moved the military cap a little to hide his eyes from her and replied: "Yes.", in a shy way.

"I'm sure you will like it."

His sister and he looked at each other and smiled.

The three of them huddled like little birds in the lieutenant's red umbrella and walked a short distance to the car in a playful way.

The lieutenant was a collaborator in the investigation and at the same time the only friend to him and his sister.

The presence of the lieutenant blew a new breeze on both brothers who lived in a closed world with a wide range of knowledge, dedicated to study and research from a very young age.

Of course they talked about the "Slate" investigation, but they also talked a lot about other things.

The lieutenant listened with interest to the story of the investigation that his sister and he had done so far, and both he and his sister loved hearing the story of Japan from the lieutenant. The discussion with the lieutenant, who gave a sharp opinion from a different point of view than his sister, tended to be enthusiastic.

When the investigation got off to a good start, they had more work for their investigators than the lieutenant, and they loaned several books to the lieutenant who used to have more time. The lieutenant was a good reader, he read romantic poetry books that don't look good on his face, he read military books that fit his face and other books like history books, literature, plays, political science books, books of economy and several specialized books. He read anything. For Christmas, he also loaned her the first edition of "A Christmas Carol" that he read as a child. It was nice to see that lieutenant reading the fairy tale with a serious face.

He liked the printing of the book the lieutenant had.

Initially, the party headquarters in Berlin, rushed towards the outcome of the "König Project" and eager to hear the report, gradually waned interest in the investigation. The war situation deteriorated and there was no space to devote to research and other non-immediate effects.

Still, he was not told to stop the study. They continued the investigation of the "Slate", they left it half abandoned and unexpected. In a war that was to be ruined like an avalanche, they lurked in the underground laboratory of a quiet church in Dresden, on an isolated island, as they watched the violent muddy currents around them.

It may sound unscrupulous, but for him, the time spent there was a modest amount of happiness. He was able to dream the biggest dream of his life in a miserable time.

He hoped that, if this dream were to come true, it would glow in an era closed to darkness, leading to the realization of a world where everyone can be happy, regardless of war, enemies, or allies.

Almost a year after the lieutenant's arrival in Germany, the experiment that he believed in took shape and that led to the realization of that dream.

Based on the theory brought up by the lieutenant, his sister-designed W deflection modulator was completed by the end of the year. The functional test had been repeated since the beginning of the year and the results were obtained.

"Today, a formal initial experiment of the 'Slate' will be conducted with the presence of the lieutenant."

Before going to work, he put on a new lab coat to get excited. Commuting to work was just a short walk down the hall to institute. As he dressed in the living room shared with his sister, he suddenly noticed the carved wooden doll that was carefully displayed on the shelf and smirked.

It was a hand-carved klippe for him, the lieutenant, and everyone in the lab at Christmas. A set of dolls showing the Nativity scene. Centered around the Virgin Mary and Christ, Saint Joseph, the Magi and the angels are aligned. Between them, the two magicians, Gaspar and Melchor, were the work of him and the lieutenant. The personality and characteristics of each creator were reflected in strange ways, and it was strange that he and the lieutenant seemed to be lined up with mysterious faces.

It was the Christmas they held to hold their breath during the war, but that night, where he rode around the klippe he made for his sister, and a little gift with his sister and the lieutenant, was probably the most fun he'd ever had, can have been a holy night with hope for the future

Hope, yes, hope. He had hope beyond the miracles that this "Slate" brought. The lieutenant often raised concerns due to his personality, but is also passionate about the possibility of the "Slate."

He had never had a friend, but he thought he would be fine if he was with his older sister, but found the joy of working toward the same goal as his friend.

"Today I have to show the results."

Hoping the world would change, he turned over a new lab coat and headed for the "Slate".

That day there was tension between the investigators around the "Slate" due to an experiment that left an official video record to inform the top management.

"Ready to measure."

"Checking the Camera Operation."

"There is no abnormality on the 'Slate'."

"You can start the experiment."

"What about the example mouse?"

"Dr. Weissman will bring it in now."

With the serious voices of the aspirants flying around and the cage with the mouse in it, he walks to the experimental field connected to the "Slate".

The back of the mouse in the cage was marked in blue with ink. This mouse was a small creature with great "potential" that woke up during the "Slate" test the other day.

An experimental field, a dozen white mice had already been released into a large mouse maze almost 10 meters long, and they moved as they wished.

After confirming the situation, he lifted the mouse bearing the blue mark from inside the cage as if picking it up with both hands.

When he looked up, she found a serious-looking lieutenant standing in front of the experimental field. That day, it was the first time that he would witness the results of an experiment. After involuntarily smiling, he gently stroked the back of the mouse in his hand.

"Alright, it's time, little mouse. Show the good points to the lieutenant from Japan."

Showing the mouse he was holding, one of the researchers asked the lieutenant to listen.

"It is an experimental organism of the EX-Alpha group. It is under the influence of the 'Slate'."

EX-Alpha, that's what the "King" shows engraved on the stone monument excavated with the "Slate".

He gently left the mouse in a labyrinthine experimental field. An investigator in charge of the recording announced the start of the experiment.

"The blue mouse is ready."

The mouse was clearly different from the other mice that roamed the maze in an irregular manner. Lifting and wiggling his little nose, he catches the light of reason in his eyes and look around.

Suddenly, the "Slate" began to emit a faint blue glow. Just by looking at the sacred blue light from the "Slate" that had been there for a long time, he felt the unholy joy of receiving a colorful reaction from a person who had refused to approach for a long time.

A blue mouse in the experimental field was stained with blue light in response to the glare from the "Slate".

The bright light was also generated in the air one meter above the blue mouse. A sword-shaped crystal appeared from the round blue light.

"There is a reaction to the 'Slate'."

"Sword-shaped glow confirmation."

As the researchers watched, the blue mouse stood on its hind legs, wearing a blue light, and looked at the sword that appeared above it.

It was a beautiful blue sword with a hard mechanical shape. To humans, the little sword would appear huge to the mouse. The sword gleamed solemnly, point down. He believed that the sword-shaped blue glow is a symbol of "order."

After a while, the blue mouse started running through the maze of the experimental field without hesitation.

He never hit a dead end or wander in the same place. With a movement of being convinced of the way forward, he ran through the maze without hesitation.

Then the other mice moving through the maze suddenly changed their movements. They began to run with will and determined stride, and followed the blue mouse.

The mice formed a group and began to take in the same blue light as the blue mouse running in front.

The mice quickly went through the maze in the shortest distance, and when they reached the open area, they lined up behind the blue mouse and stood on its hind legs.

It was a strange sight. It didn't look like the action performed by a mouse, and he wondered if it was a mouse-shaped toy made by a human. However, this was the power of the group with the EX-Alpha of an individual "King". The group, led by the "King", with its sword-like blue glow, exhibited controlled demeanor and abilities comparable to trained human soldiers.

The lieutenant overseeing the experiment was impressed.

"Incredible! Will such power appear in humans?"

"Sorry, but this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Satisfied with the lieutenant's reaction, he smiled. He began to explain with an excited heart, illustrating on the board.

"The strength of the link with the "Slate" is proportional to the complexity of the brain. To be more precise, the deviation from the law of chance creates a force field that envelops the Beta bodies in the vicinity, as it increases its intensity in the form of a geometric progression. As a result..."

"Will an army of super humans be born...?"

The lieutenant said in a heavy voice.

Certainly, that is why the party is investigating the "Slate". Bring the miracle of the "Slate" to humans, create immortal soldiers, form an invincible army, and finally create an immortal realm of the Aryan scientific race with the "Transcendental Master Race". Of course, he knew that "miracles" were needed to reverse the crisis.

But besides that, he denied the lieutenant's words.

"No, lieutenant."

He wrote "Freude!" on the blackboard and laughed at the lieutenant.

"This will bring happiness to everyone."

What he saw was not the victory of the country. This "Slate" shouldn't be used for something so small. What he saw was the happiness of humanity that would enter a new horizon after ending such a foolish war.

When the lieutenant answered something, there was an explosion.

"Red mouse, shot down!"

One of the investigators yelled.

When he saw it, a mouse maze that was not the experimental field where he was filming exploded and broke.

A mouse with a red mark on its back lay in the rubble of a maze that was broken and strewn across the ground.

The power of the red mouse seems to have escaped. A red, sword-shaped glow spawned in the air a meter above him.

The red mouse had been confirmed to have a tough temperament and the ability to provoke a firing phenomenon. Since he doesn't do well with the blue mouse, he let him play in a remote-placed maze, but it may have been stimulated by the generation of the sword-shaped blue glow.

He giggled cheating as he pondered the fact that he should have kept it in a separate room, and he heard a woman's voice saying "Addy!"

Perhaps he rushed after hearing the explosion, his sister was standing. Recently, his sister was doing research on her own and she was often in charge of the "König Project".

As always, he was glad to see her face and shouted: "Sister!", and raised his hand. The lieutenant was worshiping in silence.

His sister ignored him and spoke to the lieutenant.

"That... is there a problem with my little brother?"

"I just showed you the experiment. Right, Lieutenant?"

"We have confirmed the remarkable results. It is truly surprising."

"Well! But the lieutenant thinks these kids are like tools of war or something! It's terrible, isn't it?"

When he made a fool of himself, his sister yelled at him, scolded him like a son, and pinched his side hard.

"You shouldn't say such things out loud. We are receiving a stipend for your research."

"That hurts, sister!"

The older sister who scolded him like when she was alone with her brother, she remembered being seen by the lieutenant, and she smiled a cute smile that seemed to repair itself when she hastily let go of her hand.

"Ah... Lieutenant Kokujoji. Please... ignore what I just said."

She wondered how he reacted to her. The lieutenant, who always maintained his strict demeanor, wandered his gaze in slight consternation and replied.

"Hmm... Don't worry, I don't understand technical jargon anyway."

Before the serious answer, his sister and him, looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

In front of them laughing, the lieutenant was trying to put on a serious and expressionless expression, but when he saw his sister, he lowered his gaze a bit embarrassed.

The miracle caused by the "Slate" would create a world where everyone was happy. It was the day that the dream they had begun to take concrete form and he took the first step.

It was supposed to be like this.

Dresden was a city that remained beautiful during the long war, with little damage from air raids.

Many Germans said that Dresden, which had nothing to do with the munitions industry and had little military importance and was lined with beautiful historical buildings or had high cultural value, would not be damaged by airstrikes.

It happened on February 13, 1945.

A myriad of Lancaster bombers flew over Dresden, showering blocks and incendiary bombs.

The city became a sea of fire and many people died. They were evacuated to the bomb shelter, but many of them were vaporized.

The city of Dresden, where the anti-aircraft guns were no longer working when the air defense organizations moved to the front, was left unprotected and unilaterally conquered.

His sister, Claudia Weismann, also died there.

"Sister! Sister!"

A roar shook the underground laboratory intermittently. The smoke rushed in and visibility was poor. The upper church could be on fire. The air was terribly hot. It was painful from the lack of oxygen.

He moistened the washcloth with the jug beside the bed, covered his mouth, and crawled across the floor.

His sister was not in her room. Recently, his sister seemed to be studying the "Slate" from another direction by herself. Not being in the room probably meant that she was with the "Slate". He whispered to his consciousness from afar and crawled desperately forward.

"Sister! Uh, ugh…"

As a consequence of calling his sister and screaming, he inhaled smoke and suffocated.

Still, he didn't stop and called his sister many times in a weak voice.

It took an enormous amount of time to walk down the corridor, which would normally walk too fast, and push the door to the lab room with the "Slate" to open it.

Immediately after that, heat rushed from the hall to the point that it was incomparable to the hallway. He accidentally closed his eyes. He managed to open his eyelids, which he didn't want to open to protect his eyes from the heat, and he saw the scene from the hallway that was in the lab.

The roof had fallen.

The collapsed rocky shoreline was crushing the experimental equipment. It was the "Slate" and the body of the woman that collapsed in front of it that left a safe form.

"Sister!"

He ran as best he could and hugged her. His sister's body had lost all power and felt heavy. She had almost no scars on her body and she closed her eyes with a calm expression to sleep, but she was not breathing. There was no pulse.

His sister, Claudia Weissman, was dead.

On the roof of the collapsed hall, the part of the church on the floor was raging with fierce fire. The air was boiling. The moment the roof came off, he breathed in the hot air that had entered, he burned his throat and suffocated.

He was looking up in a daze as he held his sister.

He couldn't think of anything. They, who were said to be the two-headed geniuses of the Third German Empire, were once again unable to think of anything, and one was useless and vaguely gazed at the sky.

The flame swirled. The roof of the church had already disappeared, either from flames or bullets, and he could see the sky beyond the flames.

The bomber was flying. Although that was hell, they never got tired of it and kept dropping bombs. From above, despair fell one after another.

He vaguely thought that he wanted an umbrella.

A soft umbrella that would protect him from this despair.

One rainy day, he remembers that the three of them got into the Japanese umbrella that the lieutenant was carrying.

The lieutenant protected him and his sister from the rain, while he wet his shoulders and back.

The sound of the rain hitting the umbrella was soft.

His sister was laughing happily.

(I want to go to Japan one day.)

When he realized it, he didn't feel the heat or the pain that had been bothering him.

He looked at his body slowly.

His body glowed pale silver.

He looked away from him. The "Slate" also emitted the same silver light as his body. He knew that scene. That was a luminescence phenomenon that occurred when an EX-Alpha individual was born in an experiment with mice, in which a W shift modulator activated the "Slate".

He looked up again.

A silver light was born in the night sky where black and red mixed reflecting the color of the flame.

The light fell apart and spread like an umbrella.

The umbrella of silver light that appeared above his head glowed for a while and then lost its shape and became the shape of a pointed down sword.

It was a sword-shaped glow.

A huge sword-shaped silver glow that was incomparable to what appeared on the mouse, was silently floating in the night sky that dispersed despair.

A bomb fell next to him. He could feel it. The detonation would take his eyesight and the scattered projectiles would hit his body.

However, that which would have ripped his limbs apart in an instant, did not inflict a single scratch on his body.

He, his sister's body, and the "Slate" that stood abruptly while the surrounding substances could not retain their original form, were there without any damage.

He was an EX-Alpha individual, that is, the "King" who displayed the stone monument, the "transcendental master race" who sought the party headquarters, and had the power to "make everyone happy". It was what he believed.

"Sister?"

He shook his sister in his arms and called out to her. If he had become a "King" with paranormal power, he now only had one wish.

"Sister, get up."

By incorporating others into the feedback loop of the causal bias generated by the EX-Alpha individuals, a new causal bias is generated and 8 individuals are produced. In other words, it is possible to give birth to a "member" who has shared the power of the "King".

He instinctively knew how to do it. The brain naturally understands more than the knowledge acquired as a result of research and experiments. Upon becoming an EX-Alpha individual, a strong resonant action occurred between him and the "Slate", and what could be called the memory of the "Slate" was flowing.

"Sister, take my power. I won't hurt myself anymore. The sore throat that just burned me is gone. I won't hurt myself or die. So, sister, you too."

He developed his own strength and continued to pour it into his sister. Waiting for an answer from his sister. If possible, he wanted to give everything he had to his sister.

But his sister never opened her eyes. His sister was dead. The power of the "King" cannot bring the dead back to life. Everything was slow.

He was supposed to be the "King", and he only held the corpse of a single family member helplessly.

How long had it been like this?

Before he knew it, the hellish night was over and the bombardment had stopped.

The sky was white and the early morning air was rapidly cooling the rubble of the city, which had been set ablaze by fierce fire.

He heard the sound of military boots running in the quiet that made him think that all the creatures had died.

When he raised his face, he saw a lieutenant out of breath.

The lieutenant was supposed to have been in Berlin, but hurried after hearing the news of the Dresden bombing.

He laughed softly at the lieutenant who stood up with a clear face. His cheeks shook his smile, and for the first time he realized that he was crying all the time.

"Lieutenant. My sister..."

His sister's body was already cold.

The lieutenant moved to Berlin with him, which was completely useless.

The Dresden bombing was divided into several waves and continued into the next day, resulting in a tremendous number of deaths. Due to the large number of evacuees and refugees in Dresden, which was thought to be safe, it seemed difficult to determine the exact number of deaths. Many of the bodies were burned by a whirlwind of fire and suffered indistinguishable damage.

For a few days, he was dumbfounded. The lieutenant told the party headquarters that he had become the first of what they called a "transcendental master race" by the "Slate." In fact, at that time, he was like a wooden puppet, far from being a "transcendental master race" or a "King". As an investigator that he was pitifully burned to no avail, he was left unguarded.

"The reason for the bombing was found."

One day, a few weeks after the Dresden bombing, the lieutenant approached him and said.

"It was a leak of information. The allied forces that seized the existence of the 'Project König' decided that it was a threat to eliminate."

The lieutenant's voice was clear. No anger or sadness appeared on the surface, and he made a calm, unwavering and firm voice.

"Weissman. If you still desire the realization of your ideals, abandon your human life from this moment on."

Hearing the lieutenant's voice, he couldn't even lift his face as he sat on a chair and was choking.

"He reigns as the only 'King' and rules all human beings. He condemns the fools. The equality and prosperity of humanity can only be achieved by having the power of ruin beyond human intelligence."

He understood the lieutenant's words. They had been thinking of ways to make the miracle of that "Slate" desirable as they progressed with the investigation. That was probably the lieutenant's answer.

On the other hand, he had been thinking about it. How to make everyone happy.

But now he couldn't quite remember his thoughts.

"Fulfill the "King's" responsibilities."

He couldn't think of his thoughts. Of course he couldn't even put it into words. Still, he had the feeling that the lieutenant's words were "different."

He just shook his head wordlessly.

"Actually…"

The lieutenant said in a low voice and took the holster from his waist. He pull out the pistol and point it at him in one fluid motion.

"If you don't, I will. But there shouldn't be two 'kings' on earth."

The lieutenant's finger went off. He looked up and slowly compared the barrel, which was aimed at his forehead, with the face of the lieutenant, who was determined to look.

"A bullet... Is that the punishment for the great dream we had?"

"No. Weissman, you don't have to suffer anymore. If your dreams are sins, I will take full responsibility and punishment."

The lieutenant's voice remained calm. It already seemed to carry everything. The prayers of the late Claudia, the work of his trying to get rid of the great responsibility of the "King" and the lives of the people of Dresden who were burned due to the investigation.

"As the only 'King', I will carry all the hatred and resentment of the earth on my back and fall into hell. Therefore, I will not meet you in that world... Say hello to Claudia."

The lieutenant fired.

Shots rang out, but the bullet missed his forehead.

The bullet was still in midair in front of his head, as if it had driven into a transparent wall.

"It's useless…"

He said he, powerless in words.

"That's not good... Lieutenant, fear cannot make people happy."

The form of the dream he had was no longer uncertain. But he did not want to make the in-between world brought about by the rule of a lonely "King" beyond dreams.

"Give me time. The answer is... I'm sure there is a way to happiness."

The bullet that was parked in the air exploded and disappeared. No matter what the shell is, he was already a "King". Nothing could hurt his body, he was the "King".

The lieutenant waited without lowering the weapon.

"Do you think I can believe your words right now?"

"I do not know..."

He got up slowly and managed to laugh at the lieutenant, feeling that he was crying.

"If she was my older sister, I'm sure she would say that."

At that moment, the expression of the lieutenant that he hadn't trembled for a long time was distorted.

He said that with a mixture of anger, sadness and various other emotions and stopped.

In the end, the lieutenant never let go of the passion he had been through, but simply turned his back on him silently.

Two days later, he was kidnapped by a command unit of the United States Army.

"Dr. Adolf K. Weissmann, right?"

The men who intervened were camouflaged in German army field clothes, but it soon became clear that they were American special forces who came to seize the technology related to the "Slate".

Information about the "König Project" was leaked to the Allies, which was revealed in the event of the Dresden bombing. Not only did the "Slate" study eliminate the potential threat from the Third German Empire, but the United States seemed to have been interested in the technology itself. It was a plan that was about to be abandoned by the German center, but he vaguely thought it was ironic.

They stopped and seized him, and began a march into the mountains with the goal of joining the Allied forces clinging to the Western Front.

He did not resist at all. He was not afraid of the multiple weapons pointed at him, they handcuffed him and a soldier grabbed his arm roughly. It would take the power of the "King" to break the steel handcuffs that had been placed on both wrists. He was afraid of him.

It was not the judgment that he should hide the fact that he was a superhuman created by the "Slate". But stronger than that, the reason why he made the decision not to resist was an unmistakable "fear".

Without using the power of the "King", he killed his emotions and was attracted as he was, and on the second day of walking through the mountains, the march of the commando was greatly disturbed.

It seemed that the enemy had already started to take over his personality. The command unit, which had no land, was blocked by the pursuit unit, and gradually driven east, facing its original destination, the Western Front.

If he headed east as he was, he would reach the Eastern Front. While American and British troops were invading the Western Front, the Eastern Front was pushing the Red Army of the Soviet Union to the point where an all-out attack on Berlin was imminent. For the US commando unit, joining the Soviet Union's Red Army ran the risk of failing in the mission of stealing Adolf K. Weissmann's special confidential information from the Red Army's side, or worse, assassinating all members of the unit.

Looking at the faces of the Commando soldiers, who gradually became impatient and frustrated, he kept thinking vaguely the entire time.

If they could complete their mission and he was handed over to the United States Army, would he tell them about the "Slate" as they asked? Still, if they believe that "Slate" can bring happiness to humanity and he entrusted them with that dream, it was not an impossible option. He was like a salesman, but in any case, this war would soon be over.

On the other hand, what should he do if they joined the Red Army and fell into a life-threatening situation, or if they were captured and executed by a pursuit unit? Apart from the former, the latter was not something to be avoided for him, who was a German military officer. Rather, he would normally consider being rescued and punished by enemy soldiers a pleasure.

(No, Lieutenant. Everyone will be happy.)

The words he said circulated in his head many times.

Without an answer, he wandered through the forest surrounded by soldiers who were being chased and tired, that night they threw him directly to the ground and he fell asleep.

Feeling the cold that permeated his body from the cold ground, he dreamed of a conversation with the lieutenant again in a light sleep. From that day on, he remembered the exchanges many times and rebelled.

"He reigns as the only 'King' and rules over every human being. Condemn the fool. Human equality and prosperity can only be achieved by having the power of ruin beyond human intelligence."

The lieutenant said that in a strict voice.

What is a prayer? What is damnation?

For example, is the enemy who killed his sister and burned the people of the city of Dresden a sinner to condemn?

"Fulfill the "King's" responsibilities."

He denied with his head. He just shook his head weakly. Like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Lieutenant, fear cannot make people happy."

So how could they be happy? He believed that the potential power of the "Slate" would make people happy. What should he do to make everyone happy?

"The answer is... I am sure there is a way to happiness."

Really?

Could he really find something like that? No, did he really want to find the answer in the first place? Can he realize the method of happiness when he search for it and find it?

To himself with such muddy despair.

For himself bound by sadness, anger and fear.

If he really wanted to make everyone happy, what could he do now?

He was surprised when they called him and woke up from his dream.

"Hey, get up."

There was a grumpy voice. Realizing that the soldier had kicked him in the back, he slowly looked around him. The vague head of awakening slowly recognized reality.

"Go to the Captain."

The soldier said coldly and turned his back on him.

He got up off the ground in handcuffs. He went to the commando captain as he was told, looking at the passing soldiers, wearing dirty clothes with damp earth and leaves.

The handcuffs were heavy and would normally hurt his wrist, but his skin wasn't hurt at all. Nobody cared about the body of a prisoner of war, so he wouldn't suspect him.

"You called me, Captain?"

The captain was looking at the map surrounded by his subordinates. He looked at him with a flat face that didn't show his emotions.

"I'm sorry for the circumstances, Dr. The pursuit team is getting very close. Today we will move soon without waiting for the night to pass."

"Is that so."

"Dr., please provide topographic information to supplement this map."

"I'm not familiar with this area, so I won't be very helpful."

When he answered flatly, the NCO next to him showed frustration with the situation and hatred for him, and bit him.

"I can't take it, hey, stand up! Are you a genius and didn't even memorize a map of the country?!"

"Yes, Charlie. What happens when you say you know something you don't know?"

The captain controlled in a calm voice, but the surrounding NCOs tuned in to a man named Charlie and made a barking voice.

A voice that fears parting with the Red Army and contempt are mixed.

Dr. Occult Charlie, who was really delusional and investigating the "mass production of psychic bodies" pointed it out and cursed. The officers agreed and showed frustration.

US military executives may have had some interest in the "Slate", but for those executives tasked with stealing that information, it was a perception where life was at stake.

He was listening to his words in silence. There was pain. The dreams he had were scorned, pushed away and spit on. There was anger and sadness, but it was stronger and filled with a feeling of emptiness to give up.

The captain opened his mouth after hearing the resentment of his subordinate.

"I am also going to avoid joining the Red Army. I was thinking of getting further away from the chase, but they were unexpectedly quick. If we go any further, I would be behind the German front. Before that happens, I will look for terrain that will hide the entire unit. and I will move on to the pursuit unit. I will confront them and clear the way if necessary. Then, we will force the march to the western front. That is the mission."

With a dignified voice, the captain declared so. The NCOs cheered for inspiration from the stated life policy.

It was a thin thread of hope. The entire unit was desperately trying to hold on to the thread. However, he knew that the thread was easy to break, and that if the thread did break, death would be waiting for him, and everyone here, not just him, would hate him.

He was reflecting on their lives. What were his options?

"As a doctor here, it doesn't matter as far as I can see on this map. A ground where we can hide, please check together."

At the captain's words,

"Okay, that's it."

"Hey, how much did you help kill your countrymen?"

Charlie slapped him maliciously. The captain didn't scold him, but he said to Charlie, "We'll get out of here as soon as the scout gets back. Tell the soldiers.", And he hardened his attitude.

He also skipped instructions to drop off other subordinates, and the NCOs began to move accordingly.

In it, another malicious word hit his ear.

"If only my sister had survived, she could have enjoyed various things while she stalked."

The whole body was full of hair.

Instantaneous anger and hatred filled his thoughts with black, and he was taking a step forward.

The step lightly shook the ground with a loud noise.

He didn't know what the step was for. He didn't, but there was an undeniable killing intent in him at the time.

His sister's smile, the flames of hell that surrounded the city of Dresden, and his cold, hardened body shuddered at the same time.

"What? I mean, let's do it."

Charlie shuddered with a scared face.

What the hell was he going to do?

The passion cooled as fast as the moment it arose.

"No."

He coughed silently and stepped back with the power of the "King" that was about to express his emotions.

He couldn't do anything.

After all, he could do nothing and choose nothing.

(You reign as the only "King" and rule all human beings. Condemn fools.)

(Everyone will be happy.)

"Captain, the map."

He turned her back on everything and muttered in a dead voice.

After that, everyone turned around and didn't become obnoxious or talkative.

He made some supplementary corrections to the extent that he could see from the inaccurate map presented and, as he was told, showed where it seemed most suitable for the troop to hide.

Without including any other intentions, he simply derived and submitted the requested response. Deep in the forest that stretched across the mountains, there was a depression on the north side of the ridge that looked like an indentation. It seemed that there would only be one place where this number of people could hide.

Immediately the troops left and marched into the depression. They reached their destination before dark that day.

Here, they caught up with the pursuit unit approaching from behind and changed the direction of the march to target the Western Front. Since it would be a march of considerable strength to the western front, they had begun taking turns resting while preparing for the engagement when the pursuit unit found them.

But no one was willing to go to bed.

Suddenly, the sound of planes cutting through the air echoed off the trees in the forest and was heard eerily bulging, and the trees near him exploded.

It was a bombing.

Everyone in the unit immediately tried to lie down on the ground, but some were delayed a bit. The next bombardment came in rapid succession, crushing the last like clay dolls.

Within that, he was standing alone.

He quickly realized what had happened.

The impending manhunt was a move to bring the Command into that dead end. Germany decided not to recapture it, but to destroy it.

Without a recommendation of surrender, they unilaterally massacred with the arms deck of the tank unit that he had prepared.

A grenade-like thing hit his cheek and burned him. But he didn't even rip it off and he wasn't affected by anything.

He was stunned when the soldiers around him crouched on the ground and had to wait, trembling as they were hit by a projectile that crushed his body.

Explosive smoke, smoke from the dirt and body parts of the soldiers that were ripped apart by the projectiles splattered, blocking their view.

With the roar that even the screams near him couldn't reach, the smoke in front of him suddenly vanished and he could see Charlie crouched down.

He was crying. His eyes met. Until now, he had only faced malicious and hostile faces towards him. But now, they had all fallen off him and were there in a state of helplessness, trembling from the water that flowed from his eyes and nose.

A projectile entered before he thought of anything about it. Charlie's arms and part of his head grasped right next to him.

He was crying too before he knew it. He began to walk aimlessly, leaving it dripping without drying it.

"What should I do with them?"

There was no one around him who held the shape of a person.

"Everyone, then... should they have forgiven and saved them?"

He had that power. There should have been power so that no one could die.

But he didn't do that. No one was saved. That said, he doesn’t fight anyone.

He did nothing, they did not confront each other, they did not step on them, there was only slaughter.

The person who did it had his own dream, but he was dead.

"What did you want to do...?"

It was the lieutenant who protected him as he exited unharmed by the missile storm.

It was the Japanese lieutenant, Daikaku Kokujoji, who was entrusted with a power by the Führer, organized a pursuit unit and acted as a repellent himself.

The lieutenant who saw him said nothing. He knew the situation he was in and what he did or did not do, but he silently welcomed him.

The captain, who was in command of the pursuit, was terribly surprised to see him intact and protected, but the lieutenant cheated. The commando took him away, but he miraculously escaped just before the bombardment.

The lieutenant gave him winter clothes and rice balls made from rice cooked in Iikura. With the handcuffs removed, he received the rice ball from the lieutenant.

By the way, his sister, who was interested in the Japanese food that the lieutenant brought from time to time, served rice balls and pickles. His sister, who started her own research on fermented foods, which was considered the heart of Japanese food, produced a lot of terrible prototypes, but the pickles were good. Those went well with rice.

The lieutenant's rice ball he ate was sadly delicious.

There were various memories of the lieutenant, his older sister, and the three of them.

The meeting of his older sister and the lieutenant, who brought a new breeze to the world of the two.

Investigation of the "Slate" by trial and error of three people.

The Klippe that he carved with the lieutenant for his sister at Christmas. A little party that night.

Successful start-up experiment of the "Slate".

A dream told on the banks of the Elbe river.

"The "King" will open many possibilities and bring prosperity. With great power, he can provoke violence, or, on the contrary, squeeze it in order. However, he can be a force to protect what is important and, above all, he will change this situation. It has the potential to be anything."

On the banks of the Elbe river, he said that to the lieutenant and his sister. After a successful start-up experiment, he was fascinated by the light of possibility. The light looked like sunlight shining on a dark night.

"The dawn of humanity."

He does not cry anymore.

"Lieutenant."

He called out to the lieutenant as he looked at the half-eaten rice ball.

"EX-Alpha, the individual "King" creates an individual by incorporating others into the feedback loop of causality bias. You can share your strength with different strengths. My power as a "King" can be said to be to be immutable, a power that is unaffected by any tangible power, other than blue that has excellent mastery and red that specializes in destructive power expressed in mice. In other words, my individual B will have similar, if not immutable properties. I thought I would do that for my sister that night, but it was too late. My sister was dead. However, it works in the living. I was alive until then..."

He didn't quite understand what he was saying. Maybe the lieutenant wanted me to blame him.

He did nothing until they found him, because of his anger and the emptiness of his nest. He didn't even resist because he was terrified.

The lieutenant, who was silent the entire time, muttered a single word.

"Isn't there an answer, Weissmann... What do you say, the path of happiness?"

He couldn't return any words.

He was involved in aircraft design when he was on the Artillery Board.

He planned to organize it into an air fleet as a flashy new weapon, but when it was completed, the situation had changed so much that he was put to sleep in a bomb shelter without even flying.

The name of the aircraft was "Heaven".

At Tempelhof airport, on the outskirts of Berlin, he was about to leave with the Himmelreich.

The lieutenant who was walking a little behind him, had a stern look the whole time. The lieutenant knew well that what he was trying to do was not express the departure in neat words, it was just an escape.

"Are you sure you can break through allied air defenses?"

The lieutenant asked in a firm voice.

"Yes. Even at that size, it is possible to adjust the composition of matter and adjust it to me. Then it becomes an unbreakable shell that no one can invade. It is easy to get out."

Even his power, that he couldn't do anything, could easily create an escape route for him. Looking away from his own feelings, he asked the lieutenant.

"Is it okay for the lieutenant to be better than me? After finishing the cleaning, you will return to Japan by submarine."

"Yes."

"Are you really taking the 'Slate' to Japan?"

The lieutenant had already begun to deliver the "Slate" to the Japanese army and carry it out. Nobody was still worried about the abandoned "Konig Project" in the worst case, and he was able to handle it with the authority of the lieutenant.

"Oh. I should have said it by now. If you don't, I will."

The lieutenant's voice was unwavering. However, he was distressed by the lieutenant's determination and told him.

"Will you become 'King'? It's not an easy thing."

"I know." Said the lieutenant.

However, the lieutenant said throwing it out wouldn't help.

That's why he would.

At least to achieve the desired miracle.

Hearing the lieutenant's words, he felt like crying over defeat.

Unlike him, who was so desperate that he couldn't move, the lieutenant faced the light. He wondered if he would really realize the scene of the dawn of humanity that he one day dreamed of.

He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky. The color of twilight was spreading as the sun had just dropped beyond the horizon. The night would come soon. He would go to the night sky.

Crushed clouds flowed across the twilight sky.

"Everything flows and disappears. This war is over."

"Nothing ends."

"It's over for me."

Still, the words of a friend declaring that it was not the end under any circumstances, it was the only joy in the cold darkness.

"Finally, I ask again..."

"Bye, Lieutenant."

With his back to the lieutenant, he began to walk.

The distance between the two disappeared.

A huge rigid aircraft shaped like a whale. He walks to where his last home would be, traveling without destination.

"You run away..."

He heard a low voice.

An angry and scolding voice hit him on the back because he hadn't abandoned him during that time.

"You're running away, Weissmann!"

++++++++++

He drowned in the torrent of memories.

"Kukuku." A laugh rang out.

"You ran away. You turned your back on everything and chose not to get involved."

That's how it is.

He sent all his dreams to a single friend and he ran away.

"You didn't choose anything. You didn't save anything. You didn't do anything. You were afraid of your bloated dreams and you threw them all away."

Like a prosecutor reading the indictment, his voice pinpointed the crime.

"I won't blame you."

His soft voice stroking him suddenly, tickled his soul.

"Once again, throw everything away. I will pick it up and use it carefully. Anyway, you are empty. You have no intention of using that power for anything, you just have a surplus. Doesn't your heart seem to no longer is there?"

The voice laughed as he caressed the softest and weakest part of his heart.

"Leave it to me. I'll take all difficulties with you. You can also inadvertently close your eyes and dream of a happy high school student who has no responsibility. You don't have the power or the right to reject me, do you?"

He felt as if he were dragging him slowly to the bottom of the swamp. He couldn't resist, and was tempted to think that it would be easier if he slept like he was, as that voice said.

Yes, he had no power or right. He was a mindless creature who could do nothing, did nothing, and just floated alive. Whether his eyes were open or closed, nothing would change. He was caught up in those arrogant thoughts, and the world was going dark.

However, another voice emerged in his consciousness that was obstructed.

"I haven't given up yet."

"Neko is from Shiro and Shiro is from Neko!"

Kuro. Neko.

They kept looking at him the whole time.

He taught him the strength to never give up. She taught him the power of pure affection.

She gave him a name and kept calling him when no one else had.

As long as they were there, he could not abandon them.

He still didn't know how to be happy, but this time, he wouldn't run away doing nothing.

++++++++++

"Tsk."

The "Colorless King", who was repelled from the boy's body, returned to Kukuri's body with a pitiful voice.

"Kukuri!"

"Well, you're putting it off!"

The fighting voice of Kukuri and Kuro, whose body was taken over by the "Colorless King", was heard far from the boy's ears.

The boy was lying on his back on the floor and was looking vaguely at the ceiling. He still couldn't move well because his consciousness and his body were too big. He breathed quietly, so he was doing his best.

Neko, full of tears, was reflected in the boy's vague vision.

"Shiro! Shiro! Hold on!"

Oh, he wanted to tell her that she didn't have to see him that way.

Kuro, who had abandoned the pursuit of the "Colorless King", knelt beside the boy with a worried expression.

"Don't move! You were just attacked..."

He try to tell him that he didn't need any help. The piece of glass that pierced his abdomen finally fell off and his wound had been healed. Even if he forgot everything and became a helpless high school student, his body had unvarying power.

Before Neko and Kuro's words came out, silver power flashed on the boy's body. The power of the "King" that he obtained under a shower of bombs in Germany in 1945. However, after that, he did nothing and stayed alive.

Neko and Kuro stared at the boy who was glowing silver, speechless.

The boy slowly stood up and smiled to reassure the two with anxious expressions.

"Macht nichts, ich bin unverwundbar. (Don't worry, I'm immortal.)"

He then said that he was not hurt, but his facial expressions remained confused.

The boy kept talking to tell who he was. "Endlich habe ich verstanden. (I finally got it.)"

"So you're really the 'Colorless King'?"

The boy shook his head at the confused Kuro, saying that was not the case.

"Mein... (My name...)"

Only then did he realize that he had just spoken in his mother tongue, German, due to the sudden return of his memory. The boy changed the language to Japanese, which has been familiar to him for the past decades, and responds.

"My name is Adolf K. Weissmann. The first king, the 'Silver King'."

#k #k project #k the first story #k novel

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krixel · 4 years ago

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Since I did Beyblade on Sunday, here’s a chunk of a Dragon Prince WIP. It’s basically the entire beginning of something I started, but is sitting to the side at the moment. I want to get back to it, but Chapter 2 of my Beyblade fic is taking priority, and being more difficult than originally planned. But, I also feel bad because it feels like I’m constantly neglecting TDP, and I promise I do still write for it. So, here’s around 600 words of something that will be re-edited, finished, and hopefully posted at some point in the future.

Also, I wrote this while I was still messing with the previous prompt fill, so it’s got some similar references, and could conceivably act as a semi-sequel to Cradled in Love. Anyway, enough of me jabbering.

There were worse ways to spend their anniversary. Runaan sat cross-legged on a blanket, back resting against a wide, rough tree trunk, and watched Rayla and Ethari across the meadow. His husband crouched near a small pond, and the fingers of one hand dipped into the water’s edge. The other hand, he offered to Rayla. Their little elfling was dancing just out of reach, tiptoeing towards Ethari before darting back at the last moment and glaring at the water. Ethari’s laugh carried across the distance and tugged a tired smile from Runaan.

He’d arrived home only the night before, exhausted after a mission that had drawn on a fortnight longer than expected, and cost him more than a few aches and bruises. When Ethari had shaken him awake that morning, it had only been his husband’s eager face and the fact that it was their anniversary, that had dragged Runaan from beneath the covers. With the sun spearing shafts of light through the tree cover, and the bright laughter of Rayla and Ethari warming the meadow, Runaan was grateful he’d climbed from bed to join them.

Something soft and round bumped his finger and Runaan looked down, eyebrow quirking at the blue bundle of fuzz working its way up his glove. Another, this one green, had already surmounted the toe of his boot and was shuffling its way towards his ankle. Runaan shook his head and let them be. They would amuse Rayla after her inevitable defeat to her fearsome water foe.

As if on cue, the small girl squealed with distaste, the sound echoing above the bird song and chirping insects. Runaan lifted his head in time to see her stumble backwards, nearly toppling in the long grass, and shaking her hand free of flailing droplets. Ethari’s expression was apologetic as he pushed to his feet and closed the distance with Rayla. He leaned down to whisper something in her ear, before he scooped her into his arms, and they started back towards Runaan. As they approached, he caught the tail end of Ethari’s “… break for lunch, shall we?”

Ah. That was his cue, then. Runaan reached for the basket at his side and flipped open the top. The lunch Ethari had packed sat wrapped in navy cloth, tucked with care and precision inside the spacious carrier, and Runaan felt the cooling enchantment even through his gloves.

Placing Rayla on the blanket near Runaan’s leg, Ethari offered him a pleasant smile. “Our little adventure didn’t go so well,” he said as he claimed the spot opposite Runaan and began helping him unpack the few remaining dishes.

“I heard,” Runaan said, his gaze slipping towards Rayla, who had already claimed the adoriburr from his boot and was making a bracelet with another she’d plucked from the grass. “Think you’ll be brave enough to try again today, little blade?”

Rayla bit her lower lip as it threatened to jut out into a pout and added another adoriburr to her furry jewelery. “Maybe,” she said, refusing to meet Runaan’s eye.

Ethari nudged him as he uncovered the bowl of berries, and Runaan’s expression softened. He reached out and chuffed Rayla beneath the chin, catching her attention. “It’s okay if you’re not ready,” he said. “You faced it once today. That’s something to be proud of.”

Rayla blinked up at him, still chewing on her lip. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course.”

Rayla beamed, her expression breaking like dawn after a new moon, and Runaan’s heart twisted with fondness.

“Runaan, love,” Ethari said, calling Runaan’s attention back to him. “Will your friend be joining us for lunch?”

Brow furrowing, Runaan followed Ethari’s bright, amused gaze down his arm and flushed at the adoriburr, now almost to his elbow. He plucked it off and handed it to Rayla, placing it gently in her cupped palm. With a delighted giggle, she added it to her collection, then held her arm out so he and Ethari could admire her new accessory.

As Ethari praised Rayla’s budding craftsmanship, an icy shiver of awareness pricked along the back of Runaan’s neck, and he stiffened.

#wip wednesday #tdp fanfic #runaan #ethari #rayla #my writing

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feastofcadavers · 3 years ago

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Mint and Truffle had gone ahead into the room where there was to be their introductory tea party. Could it be considered introductory? Something of the sort. There was a breath that shook more than it should as Aloe took a moment to prepare themself. Despite not believing in specters or ghosts or anything of the sort, there was something that clawed at their mind that they were going to lose their composure. Standing still for just a moment longer, the researcher prepared themself to acknowledge and face a loss that had happened so recently... Though it felt like months had passed, truly. Stress sure had its means of stretching and condensing time in means that no sense of 'fun' could ever accomplish.

Turning their gaze from the door the other two had entered, they faced the closed door that was to be the place where they'd confront their own emotions... And their lost loved one. The next few steps up to the door were cushioned by the carpet beneath, though that did not stop them from sounding as loud as a firecracker going off to them. Their hand gently lifted itself from their side, wrapping around the door handle. Their compound eyes stared down at the handle, acknowledging how cold it was to them even past their gloves. Another breath to keep themself together, and they turn the knob to let themself in.

The room was the same as the rest of the mansion in terms of aesthetics... Spiders and webs and whatever else could be seen around the time of Hallows' Eve. The silence was deafening, only being snuffed by the sound of Aloe's own footsteps and what they could have sworn to be the skittering of spiders. Giving the rare occurrence of looking up, the scientist was met with the sight of that spider mass above them. Though it was smaller and more of a hunk rather than a blanketing form. Was it... Following them? "I... Would appreciate some privacy..." They mumbled, narrowing their eyes as they contemplated the ridiculousness of speaking to a mass of insects. They, too, were partially insectoid, but that meant nothing when translating English to whatever bugs spoke. ...And yet, the mass made its way further into the room, crawling down one of the walls and past some portraits of individuals Aloe didn't recognize or cared to know of to reach the floor.

"I do not know if you are doing this to spite me or simply because you do not understand me, but this is not entertaining in the slightest..." Aloe would grumble, closing the door until there was only a crack, just in case there was a need to escape. "I am trying to have a moment of peace, and this is not helping in the slightest... If you wish to bother me, at least save it for la... ter..." Aloe's voice trailed off, eyes fixated on the mass of spiders as it shifted into something oddly humanoid. They had to take a moment to adjust their glasses, blinking and taken aback by the form that the spiders had taken.

"You... wait, you can't..." They tried to speak but suddenly found their mouth dry as their mind tries to process the shape before them. Co. It was them, wasn't it? Though coated in the blackness that was made from the spiders' bodies, the shape that those many insects made... The leaf-like hair, the ponytail it was bunched in, the body that was far thinner than what was healthy, the imitation of some sort of coat... Faceless as it was and as terrible as Aloe's eyesight could be at times, the form before them had to have been Co... It had to. No one else looked anywhere near similar to what they looked like. This was a dream, wasn't it? They had been bitten by a spider, and this was all some venom-fueled dream, right? There was no way that some 'spirit' of their dearest friend had come to see them in the form of some spider-made mass, right? Right?

"...You came back to see me... did you, Co...?" The voice that was able to pry itself out of the scientist felt hollow. It was as if the life that was previously lingering beneath it had been stolen away by the sight. A chill ran over their body, which only increased upon seeing the figure nodded. Was this what it was like to quake? To tremble in shock? They hadn't felt like this since this accursed disease was first contracted... Breathlessly, a laugh rang out from them, short and shaken. "I-I thought... I thought I would never see y-you again..." A hesitant step forward was taken, Aloe's body practically shambling towards the figure. "I... I couldn't save you... I couldn't help you as I h-had promised..." Some strange whimper made its way out of Aloe's throat, warranting a tilt of the spider mass's head- or the mockup of it at least. "You- I-... We were going to see the beach together... We were g-going to see the palm trees together, a-and I..." When had this strange heat dripping down their face started? They didn't recognize it at first, but once their mind processed it past everything else that had accrued, it spilled out faster than any wound's blood ever could.

Reaching out an unsteady hand towards the figure, "I failed you- I failed a-and now you're no longer here-... P-please forgive me-" it looked towards the offering and shook its head. The hissing breath inward that Aloe had taken seemed to make it seem guilty, as it gave frantic arm motions that rejection of forgiveness wasn't what it meant. "H-huh...? Then- then what...?" Foggy as their mind may be, some small light was able to come through for them to understand. Right. This was a mass of spiders. If they got bitten, who knows what could happen? A forced laugh came from the mentally disheveled as they set their hand down. "Apologies. As- as you can tell, I am not in the best place at the moment... But that, ah, that is probably nothing compared t-to your situation, yes?" Something to attempt to lighten the sappy mood that had been developed, though that wouldn't last long.

"Well, erm... I suppose I should take this time t-to simply... Speak to you... Before I-I bring you back in that lesser plush form..." Their gaze averted the other's for a moment, not that there were eyes to peer at to begin with. "If... You would not mind that... A-after all, it is your body and a-all... And I don't know if you would rather pass on o-or something else..." Forcing their gaze to raise, they saw the spider-made version of Co nodded quite vigorously. So much so that it was knocking some spiders off of itself. "Ah, well, that's... Wonderful... Um..." Why was it suddenly so hard to speak? It was as if cotton balls were put in their mouth without the sensation of the actual cotton. "I... I m-missed you... Oh so much, I have missed you..."

"...What say you to, ah, perhaps a... A civil discussion of the past... and wh-what shall be done in the future...?"

#🌵 the rabid researcher #aloe cookie #📝 written scriptures #feastofcadavers #// it is times like this in which i wish i had made a tag for coconut- but alas that requires editing #// either way! i kept my promise of updating once a month even if it is quite late!! enjoy!!

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the-delta-42 · 4 years ago

Text

Wounded

Based on This Post by @lenoreofraven

Wounded

There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs. A silver knife was embedded in her abdomen, Chat hoped that the damage was not severe or fatal. Another knife collided with Ladybug, catching her on the right side of her chest, causing her to topple over. The Akuma laughed as they approached Ladybug, as she was trying to crawl away from the Akuma, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

“Running won’t save you, Bug.” Sneered the Akuma, grabbing Ladybug by the throat and lifting her off her feet.

Ladybug kicked at the Akuma, before they threw her into a wall. As the impact occurred, Ladybug’s transformation dropped, revealing her identity to everyone. The Akuma smirked, before stomping up to Marinette’s prone form, as she coughed up blood. Marinette tried to push the Akuma away, only for him to grab her arm and tear it from her shoulder. The Akuma stomped hard on Marinette’s chest, causing her to cough up more blood. The Akuma looked at the girls dismembered arm and tossed it aside, before raining blows down on the unmoving girl.

There were cries, yells and wails from the crowd.

But one was the loudest.

“MARINETTE!” Screamed Kagami, as her girlfriend started choking on her own blood.

That scream spurred Chat into action, grabbing the Akuma by the head, he pulled them away from Marinette, while the people in the crowd started to move Marinette out of the firing line.

“Oh, you want to die too?” Cackled the Akuma, “Fine by me, I get more trophies that way.”

Chat’s blood went cold, before it started to boil, “How many?”

The Akuma continued to laugh, “You’ll never find all of them. All those pretty, pretty little girls.”

There was a crunch as Chat’s fist collided with the Akuma’s nose, again and again and again. Soon the Akuma’s face resembled a bloody sack of meat.

“CATACLYSM!” Screamed Chat, the dark energy lighting his hand up, as a look of terror appeared on the Akuma’s face.

Chat shoved his hand down, connecting it with the pavement, which started to crack, before he threw the Akuma through the pavement and into the sewer. Chat kept hitting the Akuma until their face resembled a bruised fruit.

“CHAT NOIR!” Screamed Kagami, blood soaking her front, jerking the Hero from his rage.

“Yes?” Said Chat, his foot pressed against the Akuma’s face.

“She needs to get to a hospital.” Said Kagami, trying to put on a brave face.

Chat frowned, before striding over to Marinette, her white shirt stained red.

“I’ll go as fast as I can.” Said Chat, gently picking Marinette up and carefully using his baton to take him to the rooftops.

With their heroine out of harm’s way, the mob turned to the Akuma.

“I don’t suppose we can talk this out?” asked the Akuma.

Across the City, Chloe Bourgeois sat gaping at the TV, her mind continuously pulling blanks. Elsewhere, Alya Césaire was running out of her home at full speed, intent on finding the hospital Chat Noir was taking her best friend to.

Nino and Kim stared at the tv screen, lead lining their stomachs and their hearts frozen. All across the city, everyone who knew Marinette was in shock, Jagged was already sorting out the medical bills and Nadja Chamack had left the news studio.

Lila’s jaw hung agape at the television, the one time she and her mother watch TV in ages and she finds out that Marinette is Ladybug, the two people she hates the most are the same person. It actually made sense why Ladybug had exposed her, since she found that Marinette was a private person. Of course, while Lila was mulling this over, the Akuma ripped Marinette’s arm off. After that, Lila threw up.

Hawkmoth stood frozen; Ladybug had been Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The Ladybug earrings had been within his grasp. The girl that had captured the hearts of two people, was now dying. Hawkmoth grit his teeth, collecting the earrings from the hospital would be easy, by finding a way to make sure the insect was out of commission for the immediate future would be harder. He needed a way to destroy her. Of course, her months of captivity in a remote location did little to break her, no matter what method he used, he was unable to get the earrings off her, but he was able to manipulate her suit so it faded away in some areas. If only he had someone he could use.

Hawkmoth stopped, and smirked.

A medical team had been watching the battle as it was being streamed on the news channel, which had the unfortunate effect of showing them every detail of the fight.

“Alright, we’re the closest hospital to the fight, and the most logical choice, given the severity of the patients wounds.” Said a surgeon, already getting prepared.

As if on cue, Chat Noir burst into the room through a window.

“Line was too long.” Gasped Chat, a jacket covering the stump where her arm used to be, “You can help her, right?”

Within moments, Marinette was on a gurney being rushed into the operating theatre. As soon as Marinette was out of sight, Chat looked down at his hands, covered in Marinette’s blood. Chat took a deep breath, before leaving to de-transform and return as Adrien. Thankfully, Plagg removed all traces of blood from him.

Adrien ran around the corner and almost hit Kagami.

“I-I saw the news.” Gasped Adrien, as he and Kagami went inside the lobby.

“Are her parents here?” Asked Kagami, looking around for the hulking frame of Tom and the small stature of Sabine.

“No, they might not have seen the news broadcast.” Said Adrien, just as Tom burst through the doors.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Bellowed Tom, storming up to the Reception desk.

“Where’s who?” Asked the receptionist, her tone bored.

“My daughter,” Said Tom, leaning on the desk, “Where. Is. She?”

“I’m going to need a name.” The receptionist said in a snooty voice.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl that was just revealed to be Ladybug.” Said Kagami, “Where is she?”

“I think I’d know if ‘Ladybug’ was brought in here.” Said the Receptionist, leaning back in her chair.

“Sylvia,” Came a voice from one of the lifts, “Ladybug was brought in half-an-hour ago by Chat Noir, she’s currently in surgery, Her id gives her name as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if you’d contact her family and let them know.”

Everyone looked over at a consultant leaning against the lift doors.

“Wait, Ladybug is actually here?” Asked the Receptionist, numbly.

“Yes, didn’t you see the news?” Asked the Consultant, before the lift doors closed.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Said the receptionist, quickly, “I’ll have the room and floor up momentarily.”

Tom quietly grumbled; his arms folded. A few minutes later, the group of four were standing outside the operating theatre Marinette was in.

A group of doctors crowded around her, one working on each wound, with the exception of her shoulder, where two were carefully removing any remaining fragments of her destroyed limb.

“Chat Noir left her arm behind.” Said Kagami, hollowly, “He probably forgot about it in the rush to get her here.”

“Where’s her arm now?” Asked Tom, his voice quiet.

“A bystander took off with it.” Replied Kagami, as one of the Doctors jerked back.

Marinette suddenly began to struggle, her remaining arm grabbing an orderly by the face and shoving them back. There was a flurry of movement, then Marinette went still as suddenly as she had started moving.

“They sedated her.” Said Adrien, “She thought she was still out there.”

The medical staff had a quick, quiet conversation, before returning to their tasks. An hour later, Marinette was removed from the Operating Theatre and placed in a high security room. An orderly showed the group of four to the room, before leaving them with Marinette.

Sabine reached for Marinette’s hand, only to find thin air. Sabine let out a gasp and hunched forwards, her head falling into her hands, the stump on Marinette’s left shoulder covered with a series of stitches sealing the wound shut.

“What happened to the Akuma?” Asked Tom, looking over at Kagami.

“His object was broken, turned out he was a serial child killer,” Said Kagami, her voice thick, “There’s not much left of him now.”

Tom grimaced, before looking back at his daughter, “She had already been through so much, when will it stop?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Adrien, getting a sigh from Tom.

“Marinette had a twin brother, they were practically inseparable, until Jason ran into the road to pet a cat. Then Michael left, Toby following soon after and Skye taking residence in another country, Marinette’s childhood was full of loss and now, she’s forced to go through this.”

Marinette’s hand twitched, her eyebrows furrowing, before relaxing.

“What’s happening?” Asked Kagami, leaning towards Marinette.

“I am.” Croaked a high pitched, tired voice.

A small red creature floated into view, looking like she’d gone through a meat grinder.

“Who are you?” Kagami stuttered, recognizing the creature as a Kwami.

“I’m Tikki,” Whispered Tikki, her voice hoarse, “The Kwami that inhabits the earrings.”

“You’re what gives Marinette her powers.” Whispered Tom, getting a nod from Tikki.

“The reason she is twitching like that,” Explained Tikki, “Is because I gave her body an order to randomly test different areas of itself. I was in Marinette’s heart when she was brought here, one of the knives had nicked a major artery, I was keeping her alive for as long as possible.”

“So, the reason Marinette is still alive, is because of you?” Asked Tom, looking down at Tikki.

Tikki gave a shaky nod, before she glowed for a second and then flickered out, dropping like a stone. Adrien dived towards her, catching her in cupped hands.

“Keeping Marinette this side of the death veil took more power than I originally anticipated.” Whispered Tikki, her eyes drooping shut.

Marinette’s jaw opened, before closing again, then Marinette opened her eyes and suddenly sat up with a loud gasp. She started to scramble towards the edge of the bed, almost ripping the IV out of her arm.

“Wait, Marinette!” Yelled Adrien, getting in her line of sight, “Calm down, please!”

Marinette made a noise that sounded a lot like someone gurgling, before she leant over the side of the bed and threw up on the floor.

“Akuma, The Akuma?!” Demanded Marinette, blearily looking around.

“The Akuma’s been dealt with.” Whispered Kagami, making Marinette’s head turn towards her.

“Is the victim alright?” Asked Marinette, as if they hadn’t almost killed her.

“The victim,” Adrien spat out, “was a child rapist and murderer, and he was left for the mob.”

“Oh.” Said Marinette, quietly, slumping back against the bed, “It hurt worse than the months.”

Adrien tried not to wince, both Ladybug and Marinette had vanished for three and a half months, with everyone seemingly being too stupid to connect the dots, himself and Kagami included.

“What actually happened?” Asked Kagami, making Marinette look at her.

“With the Akuma or the Months?” Asked Marinette, getting a raised eyebrow from Kagami, “You feel okay?”

Kagami’s lip quivered, before she wrapped her arms around Marinette. Adrien found himself being pushed towards the two and pulled into the embrace.

The three sat there, before there was a knock on the door, before a nurse stepped in.

“There’s someone with a guitar here.” Said the Nurse, a look of confusion on her face.

“Oh, that’s Luka.” Said Adrien, as the blue haired teen rushed into the room.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Gasped Luka, doubling over with his hands on his knees, “Had to take the stairs.”

“You’re here now.” Said Adrien, his hand accidentally brushing over the stump where Marinette’s arm used to be.

Marinette let out a small hiss from the pain.

“Sorry.” Said Adrien quickly, before he heard shouting from the hallway.

“Do you know who I am?!” Demanded his father’s voice.

“Yes, sir, I do,” retorted a nurse, “I also know you are neither friends, family nor significant other of the patient. You can whine all about it as much as you like, but thar will not change the fact you cannot go into the patients room, we’re having enough trouble keeping the general public out as it is.”

“Ah, yes, trying to see their hero who couldn’t defeat a simple Akuma.” Sneered Gabriel’s voice.

“That, simple Akuma, as you put it was both a murderer and a rapist who has killed more experienced people with ease, the only reason he was able to do that to the patient was due to that damned monster helping him.” Came the Nurse’s voice, “So you can mock the title all you want, but that girl has done wonders for this city and if anyone has the right to be called a hero, it’s her.”

“She is a menace that continuously puts the city in danger when she could’ve prevented all of this!” Shouted Gabriel.

“Yes, defend the actual terrorist who has killed more people because he wants some pieces of jewellery that just so happen to be powerful magical artifacts that could do who knows what!” Retorted the Nurse, “Sir, I believe security can escort you out of the building.”

“I’m not leaving without my son!” Bellowed Gabriel, making Adrien flinch.

“With the behaviour you’re exhibiting, Mr. Agreste,” Came a cold tone of a Detective Ladybug and Chat Noir had worked with when searching for Hawkmoth, “Some of the hospital staff and members of the Police Force believe it better if your son stayed somewhere else.”

There was spluttering coming from Gabriel, before the Nurse opened the door.

“I have no idea how that man can be called a fashion designer when he looks like a mouldy ice cream.” Muttered the Nurse, making Marinette sit up slightly.

“Personally, I think he looks like a candy cane.” Said Marinette, making the nurse look at her.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, we honestly don’t know how he got up this far.” Said the nurse, getting a penlight from her pocket and shone it in Marinette’s eyes, “Aside from the residual pain from your injuries, are you experiencing anything that you think we should know about?”

“My head hurts,” Said Marinette, “although, I think that might be from how my head hit the ground.”

The nurse hummed, checking the monitor before she left. Adrien quietly excused himself, before going towards the toilets, on his way back, a white gloved hand grabbed his arm and yanked him aside. Adrien stumbled, before catching sight of Bunnyx.

“You don’t know how good your timing is!” Exclaimed Adrien, “Listen, Marinette’s been hurt and…” “And her identity has been revealed and her arm has been ripped off.” Bunnyx finished, slumping slightly, “I know what you’re going to say, that I need to go back a stop it from happening.”

“Yeah!” Said Adrien, turning to leave.

“I can’t.” Bunnyx’s words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’?!” Demanded Adrien, spinning around to face the rabbit themed heroine.

“I’ve tried everything, every scenario has folded out the same way, Marinette’s identity is reveal and she is injured or harmed in some way.” Said Bunnyx, “I’ve already changed the timestream once, on her orders, but every time I’ve tried to fix this, it’s either gotten worse or caused even more problems.”

“Oh, and what happened with the other scenarios?” Questioned Adrien, folding his arms.

“One instance was when I postponed the relationship you have with the others by three years, you would be on a date with Kagami when the Akuma attacked, in addition to her arm, Marinette would’ve lost her home and her parents, another instance resulted in both Marinette and Kagami being sent here.”

“And those are the worst ones?” Asked Adrien, feeling slightly sick.

“No, the worst ones can’t be said, because this is a children’s show!” Snapped Bunnyx, getting a small smile from Adrien when he heard the running joke of the class.

“So, is Marinette going to be alright?” Asked Adrien, getting Bunnyx to look at him.

“I-I don’t know, things have been manipulated so much that I can’t even tell you what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Said Bunnyx, before squaring her shoulders, “But something that’s remained constant, is that you cannot trust Gabriel. I’m afraid that’s all I can say now.”

Bunnyx opened a Time Portal and hopped through, “We didn’t have this conversation.”

Adrien stood there, numb as a board, before making his way back to Marinette’s hospital room. Adrien thought he heard them say something about Marinette getting out of Hospital soon.

Gabriel was fuming, first that Nurse dared to challenge him about that insignificant insect and then that Detective had the nerve to remove his son from his care.

“Do not disturb me!” Snarled Gabriel, as he passed Nathalie on his way to his Lair. He needed an Akuma, a strong one, one that would show everyone just how pathetic that half-breed mongrel really was.

Nathalie frowned at the computer screen, ever since Dussuu had been restored, she had started to have second thoughts on Gabriel’s crusade to get Emilie back. To go against adults was one thing, but to go against children, against Adrien’s friends was another. Nathalie didn’t know how Gabriel captured Ladybug, or what he did to her in her three and a half months’ worth of captivity, but he continued to look deranged, until that rabbit hero broke her out and delivered her to Ms. Tsurugi.

“He’s going after that Italian girl again.” Said Duusuu, as Nathalie started to rummage around in one of her desks draws, before removing a bottle of sleeping pills. She carefully removed ten pills, before putting the bottle back in the draw.

“This should be enough.” Muttered Nathalie, as she started to put the pills into a small bag.

Hawkmoth smirked at his Akuma approached Lila Rossi, the girl had been a willing minion in the past, now knowing that the two people she hates the most were in fact the same person, she should be jumping at the chance to get her revenge.

“Volpina, we meet again.” Said Hawkmoth, the smirk widening on his face.

“No.”

Hawkmoth blinked. Once. Twice.

“What do you mean no?!” Demanded Hawkmoth, increasing the mental strain on the girl.

“I’m done being your toy.” Came Lila’s response.

“After all the times she humiliated you? Exposed you?” Goaded Hawkmoth, thinking it would get the girl on his side.

“Maybe I just need to grow up and move on with my life.” Responded Lila, a blood started to leak out of her nose and ears.

Hawkmoth snarled, “You are mine to control, you will do as I say!”

Lila felt the trickle of blood start flowing into a stream, she was faintly aware of her mother screaming down the phone and then all she knew was darkness.

Hawkmoth smirked maliciously as he felt the girl’s mind collapse in on itself and the Akuma take over control of her body. He was so ingrained with taking control of the girl, he didn’t notice Nathalie coming up behind him.

The pipe stunned Hawkmoth long enough for Nathalie to force his mouth open and pour the contents of a glass of water into his mouth, before covering his nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow the liquid. Hawkmoth staggered, alarmed at how fast the substance was taking effect. The Butterfly broach was ripped from his chest, forcing him to detransform.

Gabriel blearily looked at Nathalie, as her fist collided with his face.

Nathalie shook her hand, before looking down at Gabriel, blood flowing from his nose. Nathalie looked down at the Butterfly Miraculous, before going back to Gabriel’s study and retrieving the Spell book and Tablet and left for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

Marinette winced as the flashing cameras blinded her as she walked out of the Hospital, Kagami keeping her steady as they walked to her parent’s delivery van. She was faintly aware of people calling out her name and her hero name, as well as a few derogatory remarks, one particular remark coming from Alec Cataldi and the responding rock hitting him on his forehead. After carefully piling into the back of the van, Marinette twisted and looked at Luka.

“Did you really need to throw the rock?” Asked Marinette, wincing as she felt a phantom pain run through her.

“Yes.” Said Luka, his arms folded, “It was either a rock or a brick.”

Marinette stared at him, before her eyes widened further and quickly turned to face the front. Luka was unnerved at Marinette’s sudden change of attitude, with how Adrien and Kagami were gently saying her name and getting no response.

Marinette was in the fight against the Akuma, Chat had been thrown away from the battle and a crowd had formed beyond the barrier police had formed. She turned to face the Akuma, who started launching bricks at her, one colliding with her face, making her stumble. There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs.

Marinette suddenly found herself in the back of her parent’s delivery van, with her head pressed against Adrien’s chest slowly calming down to the sound of Adrien’s heartbeat. Kagami had her hand on Marinette’s waist, carefully holding her while her head was against Adrien’s chest. Marinette was vaguely aware of the van stopping and a sea of flashes outside her home. Adrien, Kagami and Luka surrounded her and guided her inside the bakery.

“Are you okay?” Asked Kagami, once they were all sat down, “You froze up in the van.”

“S-sorry,” Said Marinette ducking her head, “something made me remember the fight.”

There was a collective wince, Kagami wrapped her arm around Marinette, carefully pressing her head against her chest. Marinette stiffened at the contact, before the sound of Kagami’s heartbeat started to calm her down.

Sabine turned on the news, with Nadja Chamack hosting it.

“Following Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s quick release from hospital earlier today, the Hospital in question has been blasted by numerous critics, all saying that she should have remained for at least a week to fully recover from her injuries.” Said Nadja, her knuckles white, “We go to Alec at the scene.”

No one missed the scowl that crossed her face at the mention of Alec.

The screen changed to Alec Cataldi, his forehead red.

“Thank you, Nadja,” Said Alec, “Earlier today, Ladybug was taken out of the Hospital behind me and loaded into a relatives van, many believe that the Heroine should’ve remained in overnight, at least, in order to give her time to let her injuries settle.”

Alec suddenly rocked forwards, as an egg smashed against the back of his head.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng was brought here by Chat Noir after an Akuma managed to overpower her and forced her to change back, the Akuma then proceeded to near fatally wound her, before he was pulled away by Chat Noir. I must warn you that the following footage may be incredibly distressing to some viewers.”

The scene changed to the battle zone, just as the Akuma threw a brick at Ladybug, hitting her on the forehead. Ladybug staggered back, her hand going to the wounded area, before two knives pierced her chest, one in her upper abdomen and the other on the right side of her chest, the Akuma bounded over and grabbed her by the throat as she tried to crawl away, before throwing the Heroine into a wall, when she promptly changed back into Marinette, blood spewing from her mouth. The Akuma slammed his foot into her chest and grabbed her arm as she tried to bat him away, he tore her arm from her shoulder, before tossing it behind him and started raining blows down on the heroine. This continued until Chat grabbed the Akuma, his face split into a picture of blind rage.

The scene suddenly changed back to Alec, as an ambulance pulled in behind him.

“Nadja, we’re interrupting the footage, because there has been an attempted Akumatization,” Rushed Alec, “Reports suggest that Hawkmoth attempted to Akumatize a teenage girl of Italian background, her mother called emergency services after she started to suffer from what appeared like a fit, before her condition deteriorated.”

Marinette glanced at the screen in time to see Lila Rossi be unloaded from the back of the ambulance with gauze covering her ears and nose, Marinette caught sight of Lila’s mother, trying to struggle to get next to her daughter.

“Many believe that Hawkmoth was attempting to capitalise on Ladybug’s current incapacitated state and her currently known location.” Said Alec, “Unfortunately, we are not allowed any closer than this at this current time.”

The screen turned off.

“I know that Lila’s been lying since she arrived,” Said Luka, slowly, “but no one should have that happen to them.”

“It’s strange,” Said Tikki, emerging from Marinette’s pocket, “normally that only happens when an Akuma is being resisted and at that point, the Akuma takes over.”

“So, Hawkmoth was stopped before the Akuma could take control.” Said Adrien, before the doorbell rang.

There was muffled talking, before Sabine returned with a backpack.

“That was your father’s secretary,” Said Sabine, handing the back over to Adrien, “she said she’d packed you some clothes until all this is over.”

Adrien took the bag and opened it, his face freezing at the sight of two miraculous boxes and a letter, Kagami reached in and opened a box, allowing the butterfly broach to be seen. The group stared as Nooroo shot out.

Meanwhile, Nathalie Sancoeur walked up to the Police Station.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #sabine cheng #tom dupain #alya cesaire #lila rossi #tw; violence #tw; major character injury #delta writes #rewrite history #alix kubdel #nathalie sancoeur #gabriel agreste #tw; blood #tw; graphic violence #tw; racism

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ohayohimawari · 4 years ago

Text

The Zen of Tenzō

Here is chapter six of Monk!Tenzō’s journey. Written for @tendaysoftenzo day six ‘Time Travel’ prompt (a day late, I’m sorry).

Continue reading on AO3 or below the cut:

The Zen of Tenzō

Time Travel

It only took a few weeks for fauna to catch up with flora that spring. In less than a month, the world went from barren and foreboding to full of layered greens and bustling life.

The dawn chorus of birds gently roused Tenzō from his bed, and after his morning meditation and reflection, tempted him to explore the forests that surrounded Konoha. The trees were not strangers to him, but his experience among them was different. He walked between and around them rather than leap through them. Instead of looking out for enemy ninjas, he took notes on edible mushrooms, herbs, and medicinal plants. Besides, he hoped to find where the bees made their homes to satisfy a particular craving, one that he was happy he wouldn’t have to deny for the sake of his new way of life.

Tenzō was deep in the forest one afternoon when he heard the unmistakable struggle of a ninja’s training above the spring symphony of insects and birds. He slowed his steps, cautiously allowing a string of bitten-off curses and frustrated growls to lead him to the one that uttered them. Eventually, he found a clearing and within it, Konohamaru.

The young boy that Tenzō once knew as Naruto’s shadow was now a young man. He’d outgrown one awkward stage and reached another. Konohamaru was at the point in his life where he’d learned all the lessons his teachers could offer but was not yet ready to pass them on to students of his own.

Sweat and dirt mixed in streaks across his face, marring his appearance. However, it didn’t mask Konohamaru’s fierce determination, his intense focus, and his exhaustion. The monk remained in the shadows observing the other, and upon closer inspection, noticed burns and multiple small cuts on the young man’s hands.

It was clear to Tenzō that Konohamaru was pushing himself to develop the rasenshuriken further. It alarmed him to see it because he knew the dangers that jutsu presented, so he stepped out of the shadows and approached the young ninja.

“Ah,” Konohamaru panted out his greeting, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Captain—”

“My name is Tenzō,” he lifted his hand to excuse his interruption and continued to cut to the quick. “I think you should stop for now and rest yourself.”

“I can’t do that,” Konohamaru shook his head in refusal.

“You won’t last long at this rate—”

“I have to!” The other shouted, and then swayed on the spot.

Tenzō extended his arm to steady Konohamaru and waited for him to get a handle on his temper.

“I am older now than Naruto was when he defeated Kaguya. No matter what I do, I’m no better than I was as the kid that trailed behind him,” the young man caught his breath, though his footing faltered.

Tenzō used that opportunity to lead him to sit down against a tree, but it exacerbated Konohamaru’s frustration with himself.

He cradled his head in his hands. “How can I be the Eighth Hokage if I can’t prove that I’m as strong, or stronger than Naruto? I have to master his jutsu at the very least.”

Tenzō offered his water canister to Konohamaru, along with advice. “You’re too focused on the past and the future to see where you are in the present.”

Perhaps it was because Konohamaru was too thirsty to argue that he didn’t reply. The monk seized the opportunity to continue.

“Naruto didn’t develop the rasenshuriken by himself. He had the help of teachers, and, well, I was there helping him too. However, even with multiple guides, that jutsu was deemed too dangerous, and you shouldn’t be practicing it alone,” Tenzō warned.

“But, Naruto could—”

“Naruto could rely upon the chakra and healing power of the Nine-Tails, can you?”

Konohamaru’s argument was cut short at this. He closed his mouth, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Tenzō softened his tone of voice. “You should be proud of accomplishing as much as you have of his jutsu. Imagine what you could do if you focused on your present self and the skills that you currently have.”

Konohamaru’s eyes met his, and to his relief, there was no anger or frustration to be found within them.

“What was in the past, was, and what will be in the future will be. Now is the time you can address,” the monk continued. “Find something that grounds you in this moment. Focus on your surroundings and what is occurring now to keep you here.”

Konohamaru exhaled sharply through his nose, and then closed his eyes in apparent concentration. It only took a moment for his face to screw up in pain. “My hands hurt,” he hissed through his gritted teeth.

��Then now is when we should get you to my cabin to tend to them,” Tenzō helped Konohamaru to his feet, “and hopefully, your future self will remember that you’ve already learned this lesson the hard way.”

#hima writes #tendaysoftenzo #yamato #tenzo #konohamaru #he's helping #Monk!Tenzo #time travel

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azwriting · 5 years ago

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... Of More Woe (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Twelve

Hi everyone, here’s chapter twelve.... We are getting close to end and I hope you guys have been enjoying it so far. I only have three more chapters planned out, I don’t think im going to know what to do after that. Anyways please enjoy, feedback is always appreciated. Everyone’s comments always make my day! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Gif is not mine!

Summary: Ben and (Y/N) continue living in their little bubble until it’s popped by certain Resistance members.

Warnings: Language, A bit of NSFW, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7692

Kylo Ren stood attentively in the hanger of his Star Destroyer waiting. He wore his signature thick black robes and watched as the Stormtroopers maneuvered around their Supreme Leader in fear. It was times like these that he missed the security of his mask, he needed to get it fixed promptly. The groups of Stormtroopers began to make a clear path on the landing bay when two transporters and a black command shuttle descended into the Destroyer’s hangar. Kylo’s eyebrows furrowed, it was his command shuttle. He continued to scrutinize the ship as a displeasing voice spoke up behind him.

“Ah, I see they have finally returned.” General Hux noted coming to stand beside him. Kylo stared at the man questioningly, who was returning in his shuttle? Before he could interrogate the redhead, the ramp door opened on his command shuttled with a hiss and steam pouring out. There was no movements for a moment, only Stormtroopers exiting from the other transports, until he saw the ends of pitch black robes exiting the shuttle. Then he saw the tips of two blazing red lightsabers. The mysterious figure came into full view with the Knights of Ren following closely behind. Kylo believed to be staring at a clone of himself, the mysterious figure adorned similar black robes, his gray and black mask, with a standard red lightsaber in each hand.

“W-Who is that?” He questioned Hux, completely perplexed.

“Don’t be foolish Supreme Leader, that is the Bride of Ren.” Kylo’s eyes fell back on the group thundering over to them, finding his theorized clone’s black robes to be framing a more feminine figure, and the mask to be smaller as well. The Bride of Ren? Was one of the Knights married? When had he granted a new member amongst the Knights? The woman stalked towards them, her gloved hands twirling the two sabers, before turning them off, and holstering them to her belt. The Knights of Ren moved past her and bowed before their Master, before leaving the hangar all together.

The woman stepped forward after their departure, nodding silently to both General Hux and him. Up close Kylo could see the dirt and blood that stained her tight uniform and billowing cloak. “Lady Ren was your mission successful?” Hux questioned, his voice curt and straight to the point.

“Yes General Hux, it was. The Resistance is no more.” The voice was deep, modified by the mask, but Kylo could still detect the humor and joy hidden in her tone. “Although it would do you some good to remember,” She paused, a hint of anger evident in her words, as her hands came up to release the tight air locked gears of the mask. She pulled it off in one swift movement, “That I am your Empress.”

The air was knocked straight out of Kylo’s lungs at the sight before him. The first thing he noticed was the red burned veins trailing up the left side of her cheek and through her one eye as if she had been struck by lightning. Then he saw the blazing red rimmed yellow eyes that were brought out even more by the black shadow coating her eyelids. The woman’s hair was loosely secured in a bun, small hairs falling out to frame her snarling face. Two red circles were painted on the center of her cheeks, with the same shade of red painting her upper lip and a stripe down the middle of her bottom lip, the indication of a Queen. Her black gloved hand shot out and Force choked Hux, “Bow before your Queen.” Her power forced him down to his knees, his eyes bugging in fear. “ Let’s hope for your sake, you don’t forget to show me some respect, next time.” Her hand released her Force induced death grip around Hux’s neck, the cowering man pleading for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry Empress Ren, it will not happen again.”

The yellow eyed woman nodded in agreeance, “Yes it won’t, now leave my husband and I.” The General shook as he stood, bowing messily before he rushed out of the hangar.

Her wicked eyes turned to Kylo’s, a small evil smile worked its way onto her lips. “Hi.” She greeted shifting her mask into her other hand, before quickly leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Kylo was in shock, he did not move, nor did he kiss her back. The woman pulled away, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong Kylo?” he grimaced at her voice, at her calling him his First Order name, and not his given name. The name she had spoken so many times in their childhood…

“(Y-Y/N)?” His voice was thick in horror at the darkly consumed love of his life, standing before him. Her eyes seemed to glow a brighter yellow, the red seeping into the middle like fabric soaking up blood. Her concern slipped away as anger replaced it. All evidence of the girl from his youth disappearing.

“Don’t you ever utter that name again. You know that’s not my name anymore.” Her voice was menacing, her shoulder harshly plowing into him as she hurried out of the hangar, leaving Kylo in a state of terror.

Ben jolted up in bed, his chest heaving painfully. Sweat clung to his hair, face, and bare chest. He whipped to his side finding her peaceful sleeping form still lying beside him, the sun casting streaks of light onto her exposed skin. A shaking hand reached out to gently touch her arm, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. She was still there, not a factor of his imagination. What had he just seen? Vile rose in throat at the thought of her piercing yellow eyes and the raw fury that had consumed her soul. It could not have been a premonition, no he would not let it be. But the horrible thought surfaced in his mind, if he was seeing it did that mean it was already set to occur?

No, he had dreamed of her death as a padawan and she did not die, it had only been a hologram to fool the galaxy, to fool him. Perhaps this possible outcome of the future had more to it… Ben shook away the thought, he did not want to think of that horrible nightmare again. Most importantly she could never know what he had seen. He stood from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He stood in front of the sink, looking into the mirror that displayed his sweaty and blotchy face. Tears were dried on his cheeks, sweat clinging to his hairline, and love bites were scattered across his skin.

A soft smile worked its way onto his face as he recalled the night before with his love who slept just beyond the wall in front of him. “Breathe Ben, its okay. I love you.” Her words from the night before seemed to calm him down, remind him to be rational. He wanted to be with her forever, even longer if possible, but she could not go Dark, not for him. She was too pure. Splashing cold water onto his face, he willed away him dream, and the fear it instilled in him. Grabbing the small cotton towel to his right, he dried his face, catching sight of something in the background of the mirror, and an idea popped into his mind.

A rough hand trailed up and down (Y/N)’s bareback, eliciting a small moan from her lips, as it woke her from her slumber. “Take a bath with me.” A raspy voice sounded from right by her ear, lips pressing feather light kisses to her surrounding skin. Eyes closed, she shifted onto her side and outstretched her arms searching for Ben. She was much too tired to walk anywhere. A small chuckle echoed through the room as she felt Ben’s arms pull the sheets off of her and lift her up out of the bed. In her right mind, perhaps she would have been timid about Ben carrying her naked body, but no she only clung to him tightly. He carried her with ease into the bathroom, only stopping before the bathtub. The steamy room smelled of sweet lilacs and roses.

“I need you stand for a moment, Love.” (Y/N) nodded slowly and felt as she was lowered onto her feet inside the warm bath water. Her eyes finally opening to see the white, purple, and red petals and whole flowers floating along the surface of the water. Oh how she loved him… Ben’s hands stayed firmly wrapped around her waist as she heard him step in behind her. He sunk down into the water, pulling her to sit down between his outstretched legs. A moan slipped from (Y/N)’s lips as she submerged into the water that soothed her tired muscles. She leaned back against Ben’s chest, feeling his head duck down to place lazy kisses onto her warm wet exposed skin. Her dominant hand lifted from the water to the side of Ben’s face, gently running her fingers through his messy locks.

It was late, everyone asleep in their huts at the Jedi Temple, except for the two lovebirds. It was the night after their wedding and (Y/N) and Ben were crammed onto the small cot, their breathing ragged as they came down from their high. She was tucked loosely in his arms, her index finger drawing tiny stars on his chest. They were quiet, skin sticky with sweat, listening to the insects buzz outside, their minds still in a lovesick haze from their climaxes. “I love you my husband.” (Y/N) breathed out, still in awe over the word, in awe over the fact that he was forever hers. They were bonded together in every humanly way possible now. She wanted to thank the Stars for bringing her to him, her eternal love. They would love each other for the rest of their days and then into the Netherworld. She was content with that, with him forever by her side as it was meant to be.

“I love you my wife.” Ben mumbled against her forehead, drinking in her presence. She would probably never get over hearing him call her that. They laid there for a while longer, sleep a distant thought with the electric current pulsating through their veins. Ben was a live wire, every touch he graced her with, only left her feeling warm and alive. She felt Ben’s hands start to dip down her body, teasingly grazing across her upper thighs, as he shifted down to press open mouth kisses to her lips.

“Already?” (Y/N) giggled in disbelief over his sudden onset arousal. Ben hummed against her lips, pulling her into his intoxicating taste, his hand drifting closer and closer.

He broke away suddenly with a wide mischievous grin on his face, “For you my wife, I could go all night.” Her eyes widened at his words, the idea floating through her murky mind. (Y/N) opened her mouth to make a snarky comment back, but was cut off by her trying to hold in a moan, Ben’s hand finally finding the place that awaited him ever so eagerly.

(Y/N) returned to the warm flowery smelling water and the kisses being pressed against her shoulder. “Hmm what did you see?” Ben hummed against her wet skin.

She sighed, taking in the feeling of his mouth on hers, “I saw my plans for the next few days. What did you feel?” Ben dragged his bottom lip against her neck junction, his warm tongue swirling along with his kisses. Oh how she could just fuse into his soul entirely…

“I felt happiness…” He placed a hot kiss to her neck. “Love…” Another kiss was placed higher up. “And Lust.” His hands tightened around her waist as he sucked lightly at her sweet spot just below her jaw. (Y/N) melted under his touch, her eyes closing in a haze, transfixed on solely him. She shifted in his grip, turning to see his handsome face. His eyes lifted to watch her diligently as she leaned forward to close the gap between them. They kissed each other gently, with passion flowing over each time. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as the confines of the bathtub would allow. Ben’s large hands were tangled in her wet hair as their tongues lazily danced with each other.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until the water began to grow cold. Ben was the first to pull away, knowing (Y/N) would simply ignore it until she began to shake. “Let’s get cleaned up and go eat.” Ben moved to grab the bar of soap and fresh square cloth, lathering it, and immediately working the soap onto (Y/N)’s skin. She could not protest, only sink into his grip as he cleaned her.

With a towel wrapped around her body, (Y/N) exited the bathroom with Ben following closely behind her. She flopped down onto the large messy bed, still holding her towel closed in her one hand. Her skin felt warm from the sun streaming in through the window and from Ben’s touches. Ben chuckled down at her, leaning over the bed to kiss her once again. A part of him, that was quite massive, wished to take her again. To hear her moans, her confessions of love, to feel her surrounding him so tightly. But he knew she needed to eat, to gain energy, and then he could bring her right back to bed. (Y/N) watched as he stood back to his towering height and walked over to the drawers and wardrobe pulling out clean clothing. All dark shades per usual. A soft blush dusted her cheeks as she took all of him while he dressed, paying no mind to her prying eyes. He was hers and she was his. There was simply no other way it was meant to be.

“You get dressed and I’ll go start breakfast, okay?” She nodded quietly still lying on the bed. Ben gave her a smile, before he headed to the door, although he stopped in his tracks. Spinning on his heel, he flew back to her side laying a forceful kiss onto her lips. “You lying in this bed, barely covered, is not helping me keep rational thoughts.” He mumbled against her lips.

(Y/N) only smiled and stroked his still wet hair, “No one asked for rationality.”

Ben groaned, a hungry kiss following, “You’ll be the death of me.” With one more kiss, he pulled himself away and left for the kitchen. (Y/N) stayed cemented to the bed, basking in the sunlight, in a lovesick haze. She thought of Ben, of how connected she felt to him and to even herself. He of course was not the end all be all of her existence, there was more to her than just him, but there had been very little of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s life without Ben Solo. He was her sun. A selfish part of her thought of the two of them hiding away here for forever, letting everyone else rage on their war. In a fleeting moment the thought had passed, leaving her to feel guilty. They had a part in this war, a huge one, and it was time for it all to end.

A faint noise woke her from her thoughts. It was hard to describe; it sounded like a loud hum mixed with something else, something she could not place. (Y/N) rose from the bed, securing her towel under her one arm, heading towards where the noise came from. Across the room, the wardrobe seemed to shine in the daylight, beckoning her forward, the noise coming from inside as well. She opened both of the white doors, finding clothes to be neatly hung up and a black bag resting at the bottom. It was the black bag she had seen Ben pack inside his room on the Star Destroyer. Her hands were quick to pull it up, the noise vanishing as she did. The bag was empty beside for the cylinder shaped item still wrapped in torn brown fabric.

Carefully she lifted the object, finding the grooves of the cylinder to feel familiar. Unwinding the brown fabric, (Y/N) let out a tiny gasp at what she found. It was a black and silver lightsaber, her lightsaber. The cloth dropped from her hand as she lifted her lightsaber up to examine it closely, finding black necklaces tightly intertwined around the base of the lightsaber. The sight elicited another sharp inhale from (Y/N) as she brought the items up to her chest, clutching them with a firm grip.

Exchanging her towel for clothes, she exited the bedroom and headed down the hallway towards the main area and kitchen. Ben was setting down two plates of food when she came out of the hallway, his eyes immediately traveling up to hers. She was silent as he glanced over her, his eyes sticking to her lightsaber she still held firmly. He sighed, “I should’ve figured it would call to you sooner or later.” (Y/N) looked down to the body of the saber once again, her thumb skimming across the metal pieces.

“I forgot about it, forgot that I dropped it that night. You’ve kept it all this time?” Her head lifted to Ben again, his eyes watching her intently, a single nod coming from him as well.

“It was all I had left of you, besi-” He cut himself off searching for the black necklaces that should have been tied around the body, only to find them gone. Worry filled his being, where were they? Before he could question if she had seen them, (Y/N) shifted her left hand that gripped the lightsaber, a silver band shining on her ring finger. The concern left Ben, instead filling with something else entirely. She had put her wedding ring back on…

(Y/N) did not even realize he had noticed before his looming figure was in front of her, and lifting her into a heated kiss. She kissed him back eagerly, her hands grabbing a hold of his face, the cool silver ring such a striking contrast to their burning skin. “Where’s mine?” His question took her by surprise, her cheeks burning even more.

“I um, I left in the bedroom. I didn’t think you’d want to wear it…” Her voice wavered, nervous and unsure of her answer, unsure of his question. Ben let out a low chuckle, nuzzling his nose against hers. “If you’re wearing yours, I’m wearing mine.”

With that, he headed towards the room still holding her up and into him. Only once they were inside the room did he set her down, him grabbing the black necklace (Y/N) had carefully laid down on the dresser. His long fingers worked to untangle the silver band from the necklace and once he did, he wasted no time sliding it onto his ring finger. The sight was all consuming for (Y/N), they were Husband and Wife again, well they always had been but now they were acknowledging it. Finally wearing the rings they no longer needed to hide. “I’m surprised it still fits.” Ben laughed a real genuine laugh, his eyes lifting from his hand. His eyes enveloped her whole, she felt locked in place by his gaze, until he set her free with another breathtaking kiss. He could kiss her for eternity and she would never have enough, nowhere near it. Although for the time being, she could settle for these spontaneous bursts that came from him.

“C’mon let’s go eat.”

“Must we?” Ben groaned against her mouth. (Y/N) nodded, freeing herself from his grasp.

“Yes, whatever you made smelled too good to go to waste.” She turned for the door, leaving a pouting Ben behind, although she did not get very far. In one swift movement she was tugged back and tossed lightly onto the bed.

Ben hovered over her pressing sloppy kisses to her neck, “I can just make it again.” (Y/N) wanted to protest, but she could feel his hardening cock pressing into her open legs, the pleasure of the friction making her eyes flutter shut.

“You make a compelling argument.” Her hands were tugging the ends of Ben’s hair, a moan slipping from his lips, as she lifted him into a messy kiss.

After Ben had to make them a second breakfast, their first growing cold, soggy, and unsalvageable, the two were cleaning up the kitchen and plates.

Drying the last dish, (Y/N) spoke up, “I have any idea.” Ben turned to look at her, his hair still messily sticking in different direction and his clothes wrinkled and ruffled up, she was positive she looked the same.

“So do I” He said with a smug little smirk.

She snorted lightly, “Easy Spaceboy, there will be time for that later. I was thinking maybe we could train…”

His eyes widened at that, “What?” Was she suggesting for them to spare like they had done in their youth? He could not imagine igniting his saber anywhere near her, let alone fighting her. He could imagine the red casting an ill looking shadow onto her glowing skin. It only reminded him of his nightmare, of her two red lightsabers.

“C’mon I haven’t in years, let’s see if I can still kick your ass!” Ben grimaced looking down at her, trying to fight his conflicting feelings. He needed to forget his dream, to forget that possible future, and maybe this could help. Seeing her with her purple lightsaber, all pure goodness radiating off of her.

He offered her a hesitant smile, trying to downplay his thoughts, “With a remark like that I guess we’ll have to.”

Lightsabers gripped in their hands, eyes watching each other like one of their prey, (Y/N) and Ben stood on the flat ground just beyond the lake. Their figures were rigid as they circled each other, studying their movements. He threw her a smirk, quirking an eyebrow, and (Y/N) ignited her saber for the first time in over a decade. The one side of her face was consumed by the vibrant purple light and Ben’s turned red from his crackling crossguard saber. She tried not to seem distraught by the difference, that his one blue saber, was now blackened and bleeding red.

He seemed to sense her dejection, “Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.”

His attempt at a joke earned him a scoff, “Way to take the fun out of everything. Don’t worry though, I won’t on you.” She shot him a teasing grin, before she sprung off the balls of her feet, pouncing toward him like a fearless predator. Ben was quick on his feet too, his saber clashing against hers briefly as he moved to the side. They turned to face each other again, determination written in their eyes and smiles on their lips. It was just like old times…

The two danced around the field: quick, precise, and strategic movements coming from both. Head to head, their lightsabers hit each other every minute, Ben’s strength and experience starting to give him the upper hand. As he swung his lightsaber forward, he carefully used the Force, sending (Y/N) down to the floor softly. She was quick to the floor, her grip still holding her saber tightly in her one hand, as Ben came to pin her down. Sweat clung to his forehead, seeping into his black hair, his breathing ragged as he taunted her.

“I guess you can't still beat me.” A huff came from (Y/N) as she wiggled underneath him. She leaned up to graze her lips against his, distracting him long enough to bring her leg up. As a cover she teased his inner thigh before rapidly lifting it higher and kneeing him in the stomach. Ben let out a groan releasing his grip on her, allowing for (Y/N) to flip them around. With her lightsaber a few mere inches from his throat, she gave him a snarky smile, his surprised eyes narrowing at the sight.

Grazing her lips against his once again she spoke up, “Guess again.”

“That was a cheap mov-” (Y/N) cut him off, pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. Ben obliged happily, their lightsabers soon turned off and forgotten entirely.

“Ben!” (Y/N) cried out, nails digging into the skin between his shoulder blades. Her shouting only seemed to encourage him more, his thrusts moving quicker and sloppier. Both of them were moaning messes, chasing their climaxes for the second time that day. She had half a thought, in her clouded mind, that if they carried on at this rate they were bound to break the bed. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper. It was knocking the breath straight out of her lungs. “I-I’m going to-” Another loud moan poured from her lips as her orgasm washed over. Ben let out a series of incoherent words as her walls tightened around him, inducing his own. Breathlessly the two stared at each other, in a daze from their love filled highs. Slowly he slipped out from between her legs and fell to the side of the bed next to her. With what was left of her strength (Y/N) scooted into his waiting arms. They laid there motionless for awhile, allowing their breathing to come back down and their minds to stop floating up with the stars. Ben’s fingers lazily danced across her sweaty skin, his thumb faintly running over the curve of her breasts.

“I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.”

(Y/N) perked up at that, “What?”

He let out a sigh still tracing odd shapes, “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you.” His words struck her by surprise, by his vulnerability and for how familiar his words sounded. “Simple, men like you don't care about people like me!” It was she had said to him in his room on the Star Destroyer, when he was simply Kylo Ren and she was (Y/N) Stryker. So much had changed since then, there were so many things she had not known. That she was a Force user descended from a well known Jedi Master, that General Organa had been her surrogate mother, that she had fallen in love with her son. Fate, Destiny, the Stars, the Force, and even the Maker seemed to have brought Ben and her together, there was no cruel hand by it.

“Ben, stop. Fate was not being harsh on me, you’ve been the greatest gift of my life, despite it all.” His fingers stuttered in their movements, a heavy staggering sigh coming from his lips. She could feel his self hatred rise within, she could see it as plain as day written on his face. “I could never not love you.” She added, a silent tear rolling down his cheek in the process. He nodded, inhaling sharply as a few tears followed. He had been through so much over these years, over his whole life, and she simply wished she could have prevented all his pain. If only she had not been so naive and blind in their youth, perhaps she could have stopped the darkness from rising in him.

“I-I’ve done so many bad things (Y/N), I don’t deserve anything of this.” She was unsure of how bloody his hands were, but working for the Resistance she had a pretty good idea. He did not say it, nor did he need to, but she could feel his regret, personal sorrow, and hatred. She was not sure what to say. Yes he had done atrocious things, she had to, but would he have survived if he had not? Would Snoke have spared him if he did not shed blood across the galaxy? She knew the answer and she knew he did too. He just needed to accept his past and learn to forgive himself, learn how to make amends for his mistakes. Instead of bringing death, he needed to bring life to the galaxy. Then he could return to the Light with her. He was already so close she could feel it. As long as she stayed by him he would turn. Pressing her hands against his wet cheeks, she consoled him.

“Shush Ben, everything will be okay. I love you and you love me, that's all that matters.” He stayed silent as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. She could feel the tears splashing onto her shoulder as Ben sunk into her hold. Everything would be okay, it had to be.

Almost two weeks had gone by, (Y/N) had been with Ben just shy of a month. The days seemed to blur together and speed past her. Their days continued on much like before: meals, activities, sunsets, but many hours, days, were spent in bed. Their hips rocking together roughly, his curls between her legs, their moans echoing throughout the house more than once a day. They were touch starved, spending every opportunity to be flushed together as one. A few sets of sheets had been ruined in the process.

The night of her 24th day with Ben, the two were lying in the plush green grass of the garden after a lovely dinner. Left hands clasped together and eyes to the sky, watching the twinkling stars. She was content like this, could see herself never having another worry besides how sore she was from constantly having him between her legs. But there were worse things to worry over… ignorance could only be blissful for so long. “Do you remember the ball on Chandrila?”

Ben’s eyes shifted away from the sky to look down at her, hers doing the same. “Yes, why do you ask?”

(Y/N) smiled softly, a glow to her skin. She felt so alive with him by her side everyday. “I was just thinking about how we danced all night.” Ben bit his bottom lip, the memory felt so far away his mind.

“We did, didn’t we?” She nodded gently, her fingers dancing with his. She thought of their blue and purple bodies waltzing through the banquet hall, paying no mind to the rest of the people surrounding them. “I just remember how you stole my breath that night, one of the many times.” A large grin spread across her cheeks, eyes twinkling in love.

“That was the first time I realized I wanted to be with you more than become a Jedi.” Ben tightened his grip on her hand, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.

They turned back to the stars, before Ben spoke up. “Becoming a Jedi was all my family ever wanted for me, to live up to that mighty Skywalker blood, and for awhile I wanted it too. But in retrospect, all I ever wanted was you, to have you by my side.” Her heart hammered in her chest, she was more important to him than his lineage. (Y/N) leaned over and slowly kissed him, her tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Ben let out a hum and held her head in his massive hands. They stayed like that for awhile, mouths never moving far from each other as they continued to consume each other’s essence. “Dance with me, my wife.” Her eyes gleamed at his words, she took such pleasure in hearing him say the words it was almost too much to bear. Without a moment more, the two stood and fell effortlessly into each other’s embrace. Tucking her head against his, they took small steps dancing slowly. They needed no music, just one another as they swayed in the night sky, ignorant to the rest of the Galaxy.

Ben watched as (Y/N) ran back inside, only for a moment, to grab a sweater. The night becoming a little more frigid and the wind picking up. He stood in the garden, awaiting her return, a hopeful smile on his face. It fell almost immediately when he felt something in the Force, a presence. His eyes scanned the open fields in search of the unwelcome guest, his conscience chastising him for not keeping his saber on hand. “You can come out, I know you’re there!” He called into the darkness. A dark haired man stepped out from beside the other corner of the house, blaster drawn and pointing at Ben.

He recognized him almost immediately, “Ah, the best pilot in the Resistance. I should’ve known you’d come.”

The man gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the blaster, “Where is she?” His voice wobbled, as if in fear. Ben knew the man did not fear him, not one bit, not even after his painful interrogation when he had captured him on Jakku. No, the pilot feared for (Y/N), feared what a monster like him would’ve done to her. Ben could hear his thoughts, he knew his mother had told him part of their history, and yet the pilot still believed he would have harmed her. He elected to ignore his question, his eyes vaguely flickering over to the door of the house.

“Where’s the Jedi and traitorous Stormtrooper you’re friends with?” Ben turned the nonexistent spotlight back on the pilot, his eyes widening at the question.

The dark haired man’s thought betrayed him, they both were close by along with the Millennium Falcon, his father’s ship. “I said where is she?” The blaster shook for emphasis and Ben almost had the heart to laugh.

“You’ll just have to shoot me.”

The man across from him laughed, “That could be arranged.” Ben could sense him going for the trigger, his fingers itching at his sides in adrenaline, just waiting to stop it. The blue blast shot out from the blaster, stopping midway between the two men. Ben looked at the shot, exasperated. It was not him holding it in place…

Two sets of eyes turned to find (Y/N) standing there, arm outstretched locking the blast in place. In her other hand, she held her lightsaber, her thoughts giving her away too. She had thought it was the First Order, not Resistance.

“Poe?!” She called clearly in shock. The pilot, Poe, let out a relieved sigh at the sight and sound of her.

“(Y/N), you’re okay?” The utter disbelief in his voice made Ben release a snarl. Poe walked carefully towards (Y/N), his blaster still raised at Ben.

“Yes why wouldn’t I be?” She answered him confused, letting go of the blast that shot past Ben into the distance. Poe gave her a look that seemed to silently ponder her sanity, but he dismissed it for the time being.

“C’mon the ships just beyond that ridge, let’s get out of here.” His hand closed around her upper arm for a solid moment, before he was sent flying to the ground.

Ben was quick to pull (Y/N) behind him, “Don’t touch her!” Poe was up on his feet in a matter of seconds, blaster pointing at them both. (Y/N) could sense his lack of understanding, until his eyes landed on her hand peeking out from behind Ben’s tall figure. More specifically, her left hand and the silver band wrapped around her ring finger. His silent questions seemed to be answered, his arm and blaster dropping down in shock. Ben let out a short huff of amusement, “Something the General forget to mention it seems.” (Y/N) gave him a sympathetic look, trying to convey how sorry she was for Ben throwing him, how sorry she was that he had found something completely different than he had expected.

“Poe, give them some time.” A feminine voice called out from behind them. Rey stood attentively, Luke’s blue lightsaber fastened time her belt. Her eyes fell onto (Y/N) and Ben, a look of sadness swimming in them. She could feel Ben stiffen at her side as Poe stalked away towards Rey. The sight reminded her that there was a war raging on outside of this planet's atmosphere. A war Ben and her had a duty in. They could no longer hide in paradise. It was time to put an end to it. They had grown so close over the past few weeks, the Light practically surging out of him, now it was time to use their bond to save the Galaxy.

Once they were out of sight, (Y/N) turned to Ben with a hopeful, anxious smile. “Come with us! We can put an end to all of this Ben.” Her hand extended outwards to him, his eyes staring blankly at it. She could feel his conflict rising once again, the Dark and Light fighting for dominance. Hope filled her, yes he could break free of the Dark and become Ben Solo once again.

“I-I can’t (Y/N). I don’t belong there.” Her hope faded, the Dark creeping into his soul, twisting its menacing hooks further into him. She could feel the anger working its way to the surface in her, as she tried to repress the sadness.

“You don’t belong with the First Order either!” Her words seemed to float right past him, his expression showing no indication that he even heard her.

He shook his head slightly, “We could change things, end this war and rule side by side. Make things in our vision.” Her stomach dropped, she knew what he was implying. It was the same thing he had asked of her eleven years ago, on this very planet.

“I can’t.” She tried to swallow her tears, but they were swimming in her eyes already. Deep down she knew what was coming.

“Yes you can, I’ve seen it! You ruling by my side as my powerful Empress.” Tears fell at his words, he had a premonition of her going dark? She staggered back needing to put some space between them both. Her parents death swirled in her thoughts, reminding her of the darkness she had felt as a child. Perhaps she had always been tempted by the Dark side and it was the path she was destined to follow. No! This was not her, it was only a possible outcome of the future not her destiny.

“It won’t happen, I won’t act on it.” Her statement was strong, stronger than her will had been moments ago. Even if she chose not to turn, she could not follow him. Not to the First Order, the very thing she had spent over a decade fighting against. Ben let out a frustrated sigh, the Light beginning to vanish inside. “I-I thought you were coming back to me…” His hardened eyes looked up to her, his silence providing her the answer. She had presumed wrong. How could she have been so foolish? He was never going to come back to the Light again, that was why he fought it so much. “You deceived me…”

He took a step closer, “I never lied to you.” She scoffed lightly, another realization surfacing in her mind.

“Let me guess, your meditation time… you were really contacting the First Order?” He fell silent at that and more tears fell in response.

Her Ben was truly gone then, she could not stay by his side, not like this. (Y/N)’s right hand enclosed around her left ring finger and ripped the silver band off roughly. A pain filled howl fell from Ben’s lips. “N-No, please not again. I can’t lose you again. Y-You’re my life.” Tears continued to slip down (Y/N)’s face, her head shaking in disagreement.

“No, we were hormonal teenagers blinded by the idea of first love, we are nothing more than that.” She was hurt, her heart shattering just as it had been mended.

“NO!” He barked loudly, “You don’t believe that, you don’t feel that. We were destined.” With that she stepped closer, grabbing a hold of his dangling hand. “No we weren’t.” Numbly she placed the tiny silver band into his massive palm. She closed his fist around it and looked up to him through his tears.

“Goodbye Kylo Ren.” His lips wobbled, tears cascading down his cheeks as (Y/N) turned away from him. Both of their hearts shattering into a million pieces as she left him. The skies began to cry as the two separated once again. Yes, they were destined, she had lied to him. Destined to love each other but never be within grasp.

Crying silently to herself, she boarded the Falcon that was hidden just beyond the ridge. Rey, Poe, and Finn stood waiting at the top of the ramp, their eyes dropping at the sight of her. Rey stepped forward, her own sorrow clear as day on her face, she cared for him too. “He’s not coming.” (Y/N)’s voice was barely above a whisper, her body trembling.

Poe put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry.” A part of her knew he was not all that sorry, why would anyone want Kylo Ren to join the Resistance? He only felt bad for her pain. She nodded numbly, Rey and her sharing sorrow filled looks. “Let’s go then.”

The trio moved for the cockpit while (Y/N) shuffled to the main hold, she did not want to be around anyone. She did not want their sympathy, no she wanted Ben. Another sob escaped her blubbering lips, he had hurt her again, and this time she could not forget. No she would carry this pain until the end of time, just as he would stay in her heart. The Falcon began to lift off the ground, her hand shooting out to stabilize her on the round table, dropping her saber.

A weird sensation overcame her at the exact moment, (Y/N) gasping at the feeling. She could feel more power surging through her from the Force, the power having a distinct energy to it. Him. They had connected through the Force somehow, their energy adjoining. She could feel his sadness, anger, and pain. And she knew he could feel hers. Her eyes fluttered shut trying to drown out his overpowering presence and Force.

“We’re stuck!” Rey shouted, confused. The Falcon was stuck in midair, the thrusters not moving the ship at all.

“What do you mean?” Poe stood behind the pilot’s chair, while Finn leaned over the co-pilot’s chair, where Chewie sat. Rey shook her head in confusion, she was not sure how it was possible but they could not move, they were locked in place. An intense shake began to rattle through the ship, jolting them around in the cockpit. A heart wrenching pain in her chest tore her attention away from the control panel, the girl immediately standing up. Outside of the cockpit windows, she could see the small house in the distance, and the dark figure that loomed outside its entrance in the pouring rain. She could feel his pain, his anger, and his sadness, but it felt intensified, like it was not just his.

“It’s Kylo Ren, he’s holding us in place.” Finn exclaimed looking out the window as well. The exterior of the house seemed to be crumbling from an immense pressure, they could see chunks of it falling to the ground.

Poe shifted over to see, a groan escaping his lips. “I don’t know why I assumed it would be so easy to rescue her, they’re so very obviously connected.” Rey’s eyes widened in realization, connected.

The scavenger was quick on her feet, pushing past the boys and heading for the main hold of the ship. Finn and Poe shouted after her, afraid of what she was doing, before they chased after her too. The three came staggering into the main hold, finding a shocking sight. (Y/N) stood in the center of the room, her arms outstretched and hands fisted, her eyes were closed as tears continued to fall. Boxes, supplies, and miscellaneous objects in the room were all floating around her. The Falcon continued to shake as (Y/N)’s fists clenched tighter and Rey could feel her pain too. It mixed so well with Kylo’s she had not realized what was happening. They were connected through the Force, their combined power destroying the small house and holding the trembling Falcon in place.

“What do we do?” Poe shouted over the creaking metal of the ship. Rey was unsure, she needed to do something or else they would destroy the Falcon.

“I don’t - I don’t know!” The sacred Jedi texts had not disclosed anything about bonds like this, at the very least she had not read that part yet. Her concerning thoughts were silenced as a blast seemed to project out from (Y/N)’s center, knocking the three down to the floor of the ship. At that moment the Falcon began to stop shaking and stuttered out of it’s locked place. “Punch it Chewie!” Rey shouted, still lying on the floor in a tangled heap with the two very confused boys. The Falcon quickly flew off into the sky, heading for space. (Y/N)’s bright (Y/E/C) eyes shot open, glistening with tears, as she dropped to her knees. The objects floating around the room dropping with her. Rey could feel the connection was gone and so was the Force from (Y/N)’s soul.

The connection was gone and all (Y/N) felt was pain. She sobbed heavily into her hands as she sunk further into the floor, unaware of the watching eyes. No all she could see was the sweet brown eyes she had loved. She could bear to feel his pain, hers was enough, so without so much of a second thought she closed herself off from the Force. No Force, no each other. A vicious cycle they seemed to be repeating.

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#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars #star wars series #star wars imagine #Adam driver x reader

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kondo-hijikata · 4 years ago

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Relationship: Kondo/Hijikata Rating: T Summary: Kondo has been promoted to hatamoto status, and the Shinsengumi members are at last recognized as true samurai by the Tokugawa regime. Such impossible achievements didn't come easy, but Hijikata isn't worried about that at all. This story was heavily influenced by the Shinsengumi! Taiga drama. [AO3]

.*Out of Love*.

A warm breeze of triumph whispered through trees dusted in pink, their delicate petals pulled from dainty branches and sent on a downward drift to meticulously maintained castle grounds. The shoji had been open since morning, inviting the height of spring into a great room of golden tatami and elegant decoration befitting the Aizu lord—who sat proud and tall before two loyal servants bowing their heads in his grace.

“Kondo.” The Shinsengumi Commander’s chin lifted at the sound of his name, finding the genial smile that pulled at Matsudaira’s lips as he nodded. “Open it.”

“Ha.” Reaching for the pearly scroll which rested in formal presentation in front of him, Kondo carefully unfurled a message written in sweeping ornate penmanship, and the deep breath which followed was all he could manage to keep his composure.

“His Highness Tokugawa recognizes your irreplaceable devotion to his great cause, Kondo.”

Slowly, Kondo’s eyes rose from the parchment he now gripped tightly, his heart beginning to pound the ribcage enclosing it. The scroll was neatly returned to its original rolled state, and he bowed his head deeply while blinking back the emotion threatening to swallow him whole. “I humbly express my sincerest gratitude for this undeserved recognition. There is no greater honor than serving the Gokogi.”

Matsudaira’s gaze was soft and pleasant as he regarded Kondo, and behind him Hijikata, each with their foreheads remaining lowered. “You have done well.”

The outer castle corridors were comprised of dark fragrant wood, forever polished by the frequency in which they saw cleaning. Socked feet glided fast along the smooth floors, until Kondo suddenly stopped and turned to the sprawling stretch of plant life and silver rock that extended far to high ivory walls. Following suit, Hijikata joined him in this pause, and both remained side-by-side in a fragile state of silence. The brimming excitement practically begged to be voiced, else each risked the heart detonating in his chest. Alas, the setting didn’t match, and all that could be done was attempt swallowing the visceral desires to scream joy into the heavens and flail about like they were back in Tama.

Water trickled in the distance, filling a bamboo pipe until it upended and tapped a stone with a single stark clank. Invited by this break in quietude, Hijikata pushed his chest out with a deep breath and ventured one word. “Kyokucho.”

Kondo’s gaze drifted to him, their eyes meeting and conveying more than spoken language ever could in this perfect moment of long-sought victory. He exhaled in an overly controlled manner and tipped his head. “Fukucho.”

“…We did it.”

Kondo squared his shoulders and peered back out to the cascading foliage. “…Yes.”

“We’re finally samurai…” A pause, the emotion welling. “In spirit and in name.”

A large hand raised to press to the parchment secured in ceremonial kimono confines. “Yes.” It wasn’t long before Kondo turned his head, the exhilaration that had been coursing through his veins like wildfire reaching a critical point where drowning it even a second further was insufferable. “Toshi.”

Hijikata’s grin widened at his name, his lashes parting a little more. And that was all it took.

Breath expelled from Kondo’s lungs as they simultaneously lunged forward in the privacy of this stretch of porch, their arms thrown about each other in a tight embrace, while each man’s jubilant laughter fell muted against his companion’s haori-clad shoulder.

“Kat-chan!” Open palms pressed tightly to his back, fingertips flexing inward with possession.

Kondo withdrew only far enough to take Hijikata’s biceps firm in his grasp and, the perfect portrait of absolute bliss, gave his second in command a stiff shake. “Toshi, we did it!”

Hijikata wore his own elation just as openly, his gaze prideful and vehement when a tremble shook his body. He leaned his forehead in, his teeth clenching and through them, he grated out, “Samurai!”

“Let’s get back. We’ll—” Kondo’s features somehow brightened even further and his spine straightened in sudden consideration. “We’ll have a big dinner tonight, no cost spared. Ne?”

With his lashes falling, Hijikata huffed a laugh. If this were any other time, he might suggest restraint; despite that the treasury certainly had the money for an extensive celebration, they were both country men with roots deep in frugality and had arrived in Kyoto possessing little more than the swords on their hips. But here they stood now, samurai—true, Tokugawa-recognized samurai!—openly embracing on Matsudaira-ko’s property with nothing other than auspicious days ahead. Kondo’s influence would only increase, the wealth would flow in faster, and the Shinsengumi’s fame would ripple resoundingly over a land deeply divided.

His eyes opened and all he could do was dip his chin in agreement to dinner—extravagant, yes, but more than deserved. “Mm.”

Kondo held to Hijikata’s arms for a little longer before he at last nodded again in return, wide eyes and grin never fading. “Toshi! Let’s get going!”

As they quickly made their way out of the castle presented to Matsudaira by Tokugawa’s own graces, Hijikata never thought he’d see a happier day in his life. Once on the road, he peered back at the impressive structure for a moment of reflection as petals fell lazily in the wind, his thoughts taking him back to a time when meeting with the Aizu lord was nothing but a distant dream. Eyes closing, a tiny satisfied smile gracing him.

"Toshi."

"Aa." His lashes parted again to find Kondo, the most central and important piece of everything. Hijikata's gaze softened further. "Coming."

Sake flowed like rivers and the platters of food seemed endless over joyous celebration in the ranks. Harada’s stomach was painted, his failed seppuku scar a perfect mouth for the ridiculous face Nagakura had drawn, and he belly-danced while soldiers laughed, eating and drinking their fill late into the night.

Far away from the drunken singing and raucous, Kondo sat on the porch before his room with Hijikata at his side, a large near-empty bottle sitting behind them on a circular tray.

Pink flush had long made its way across Hijikata’s cheeks, and from the way he was feeling, Kondo wagered his own didn’t look much different. He pressed the sakazuke cup to his mouth and tilted his head back with a gulp, then exhaled loudly.

“Mm, Kat-chan.” Not missing a beat, Hijikata reached for the sake and held it out. “Here.”

The throaty laugh that left Kondo was accompanied by raising his cup yet again. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, Toshi?”

A snort followed and Hijikata’s voice was airy. “Reminder that this was your idea.” The purr that followed emanated deep from within his chest. “…Kyokucho.” He tilted the bottle until the last drop poured out, and set it back down out of the way.

“Right.” Kondo’s chin raised and he swallowed it all in one go, owning up to the responsibility.

“’Taku…” Though it was a complaint, Hijikata wore a grin. He sipped from his cup and let his lashes fall as insects sang in the garden and fireflies sparkled amongst moonlit leaves.

Kondo’s lips pulled into a soft smile as well and he treated himself to a deep inhale through his nose. The nights were growing warmer, similar to how the future had been becoming more and more bright while days passed and seasons changed. They’d made it through a long and grueling winter, scraping by for every bit of respect and renown to be earned here in the west. Then came a cool spring that turned warm with the Ikedaya incident, and finally, the verge of a scorching summer loomed, in which gold would rain down instead of sunlight.

To be sitting on the porch of Nishi Honganji at this time with a plethora of trust and wealth encompassing them, with weight to their names and sanctified status as real samurai… Kondo breathed out into the clear night and let his spine relax. It was the furthest cry from the ages he’d spent at his childhood home in Kamiishihara, listening to the stories his father told of Kanko and other great heroes who had gone out to do the unbelievable. How he’d wanted to be like them, and how he’d dreamed.

But farmers becoming samurai were just as remarkable, weren’t they? And the Shinsengumi, itself… A group marred by disorganization in its early days and looked down the nose by everyone around them, growing into a force this powerful was simply unheard of in these times. Transcending classes was an absurd notion. Commoners didn’t pull weight. Men of the land didn’t have the ear of Matsudaira-ko, or the recognition of the Tokugawa regime. Yet, Kondo did and the group of men he led commanded respect and recognition.

How could any of this possibly be real?

He already knew the answer without searching...had known it for the longest time.

Kondo found Hijikata at that, watching while his second in command rocked gently in place with his eyes still closed, a small grin still worn across his features.

“Toshi…” he whispered.

“Ain’t gonna be long now,” Hijikata sighed out, the corners of his lips twitching a little further into his cheeks. One set of lashes parted and he peered over. “First, a hatamoto. Next, a daimyo. Soon.”

“Toshi…it’s enough.”

“Hey.” The soft and breathy voice turned serious, and Hijikata looked at him pointedly. “I promised you daimyo status, Kat-chan.” His palm hit the porch to drive his sincerity home. “We’re not stopping at you being a hatamoto. Don’t even start.”

Kondo’s hand raised and he pressed fingertips to Hijikata’s mouth. Once he quieted, it moved to cup his cheek, the thumb grazing gently across and he barely squinted. “But at what cost?”

The shoulders of his vice commander inched up into a dismissive shrug. “Anything at all.” He shook his head then. “Whatever it takes, Kat-chan, whatever the cost.” Signaling the end of the discussion, Hijikata finished his sake and placed his cup on the tray.

Whatever it took, whatever the cost…? The burdens of Serizawa, the weight of command… the five tenets and enforcing them, even if it meant seppuku—even if it meant shouldering all of the blame and resentment… The hard decisions, the dedication, the forcing of his hand with torture and threats, the hours upon hours of work… All this, just to be satisfied with existing in someone else’s shadow…

Hijikata picked up on the silent thoughtfulness and his brow furrowed. “What—?”

That question he’d started was interrupted by Kondo’s lips meeting his softly, palms rising to cup his cheeks. The kiss deepened and their tongues met as Hijikata grabbed hold of him, and then by either no one’s or everyone’s fault, both tumbled to the porch floor.

Kondo’s face hit gently against Hijikata’s chest on the impact, his arms immediately wrapping around his middle in a tight embrace. The hands that had landed on his shoulder linked fingers behind his neck and ran up and down in short stroking motions.

“Toshi…” An exhale. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

With his eyes closing, Kondo exhaled. Of course that would be the reply, when he felt he could never express the gratitude he felt enough. “For everything.”

Hijikata’s voice rumbled softly over the steady thumping of his heartbeat. “There’s nothing—” A hiccup. “Nothing to thank me for, Kat-chan.”

Kondo shook his head against the purple-clad breast and braced against the porch, pushing himself up and then forward so that his nose nearly touched Hijikata’s. He stroked a burning cheek, wound a finger through a long black lock…and simply relented. His vice commander couldn’t be reasoned with on this subject when he was sober, and now that he had sake in him—now that they both did…

“We’ll keep going, Toshi,” Kondo murmured, his lashes falling halfway as he gazed into amethyst eyes rife with reverence. He was certain his own were but mirrors. “All the way.” Their noses touched in a brief nuzzle. “As long as you’re with me.”

Hijikata’s head tilted as though that last statement had been perplexing, the hair from his ponytail splaying out beneath him. His fingers crept up to touch Kondo’s face and he paused before whispering his response. “Always.”

Their lips met again, their hands entwining tightly. He may have been in a relatively dazed state from the sake, but Kondo knew then—as he always had—that the responsibility was his own to stop Hijikata from destroying himself all for his sake. It was said that the bond between samurai ran deeper than the ocean and further than the sky. As he pressed kisses to the samurai he shared such a bond with, to his jaw and then down his neck, Kondo silently promised it was a mutual vow, that his love was just as fathomless and his devotion equally as fervent.

One day, he’d fulfill these debts that had accumulated on his soul. At some time, he would be able to give to Hijikata as much as he’d received, and reciprocate as much as what had been sacrificed, only for him.

But for right now…

When Kondo felt hands pulling at his garments, he stood slowly and helped Hijikata to his feet. They both stumbled the few steps to his room, and the shoji clapped shut.

All Kondo could do at this moment was settle to give Hijikata everything he wanted, and anything he would possibly take. And he would give it to him freely, all out of love: tonight, tomorrow, next year, and on—for as long as he was able, for as much as he could.

#uss enterplaid #toshisami #konhiji #hakuouki #t1 #writing on plaid paper #long post

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