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luciehercndale · 4 years

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Pain & Pleasure: 4/? A Jordelia Fic

Good afternoon everyone! Here’s the fourth chapter of my Jordelia fic. I hope you like it! 😃💜

Couple: Cordelia Carstairs and James Herondale, Jordelia Rating: T Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

When Cordelia regained consciousness, she felt a throbbing pain on the side of her head, as if she was lying on an anvil instead of her pillow. She was in her bed, wasn’t she? She couldn’t remember.

She felt the pull of sleep tugging on her eyelids, but she fought it until she was able to glance at her surroundings. She was in her room, at least. She recognized the burgundy panels on the walls and the canopy bed made of dark wood and the heavy blankets which covered her exhausted body. There was a glass of water on the nightstand, and a small bottle of a concoction of an indistinguishable color. And she wasn’t alone.

She realized that someone clutched her hand. “James?”

“It’s Alastair,” her brother replied sullenly, and he retrieved his hand from hers as if he had been scorched. “You’ve woken up, finally,” he added, and he was frowning, which was not a rare occurrence for her brother, but the way he was looking at her, bored almost, hit a nerve. She didn’t want him to act like that, act like their father. No. Alastair wasn’t like Elias.

Cordelia’s face contorted and the pulsing in her head grew. “Are you angry, Alastair?”

Alastair clenched his fists in his lap, and looked away. “I’m definitely angry. I can’t describe to you how angry I am, Cordelia. I truly can’t.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry.”

Alastair’s features softened and he gazed at her, really gazed at her. “I’m not angry with you.”

“You are not?”

He was frustrated. “I thought you didn’t hit your head too hard, but you probably did.” It was Alastair’s way to tell her that he wasn’t holding her responsible of what had happened. “On the other hand, I am grateful to your fiancée for saving you.”

“James saved me?”

“Layla, are you sure you are all right? It doesn’t seem so. By the way, he did. He said he entered the cell and struck Elias with something he found on the pavement and he released you.”

“That’s why you are grateful to him?”

Cordelia wasn’t sure if Alastair felt indebted to James because he had saved her or because he had hit their father. She knew that it didn’t run good blood between he and Elias, but she never believed that her brother loathed him to this degree.

She wanted to hear the reply to that question, but her mother Sona barged in the room followed by Risa. “You are awake, Cordelia, my daughter.” She hurried to her bed and touched her forehead to check her temperature. Her mother was not young anymore, but she was still beautiful. In that instant, though, she saw her narrowed eyes, her quivering lip and the creases on her forehead, and she seemed to have grown older overnight.

“Is my father here too?”

Sona’s face hardened. Cordelia noticed the slight tremble in her hands at the mention of her father, which Sona tried to hide by putting both hands on her faint baby bump. It was a protective gesture, not just for her baby brother or sister, but also for herself. “He’s still in the Silent City, my dear. The Brothers decided to keep him there after – after what he did.” Sona’s voice cracked at the end, and she looked away, glancing at the nightstand. “Have you had a glass of water? Risa, please, help her sit. Adjust some pillows behind her back.”

Risa sauntered to the other side of Cordelia’s bed and arranged the pillows in a way that her head was sustained. Cordelia didn’t want to sit, her brain was still pulsing like a bomb that was ready to explode any second, but she yielded. She didn’t want her mother to add her to the list of troubles.

“How are you feeling?”

Like I hit my head on the hard and humid floor after somebody tried to choke me, she wanted to say, but she decided it wasn’t time to be sarcastic, although that was the truth. “Better, thank you, mâmân. How long have I been out?”

“Just a few hours, Cordelia. It’s late afternoon, if you’re concerned. Your Silent Brother cousin tended to you,” Sona revealed with a neutral tone, and Cordelia couldn’t understand if she was relieved or irked by that detail. “It was James Herondale who requested it.”

Cordelia sighed, tightening her hold on the hem of the blanket. “It was nice of Jem to do it,” she commented, hoping that her mother and brother wouldn’t hear the regret in her voice. She and her cousin Jem weren’t as close as James was with his uncle. She didn’t have the right, if she were honest, to be hurt by the fact that he had only come because James requested him to. She had barely meet Brother Zachariah, Jem, and they didn’t know anything about each other save for the fact that he was a dear person to the Herondales and to James. She wondered if he would interact with her some time, since she was going to marry his nephew.

“Very nice of him, indeed. We couldn’t hope for a better man to be engaged to you, Cordelia. Another from his bunch of friends, perhaps the Consul’s son, would have been better given his wealth and his connections,” Sona commented. “But I am pleased by the Herondale boy, he is well-mannered and everyone seems to love him and his family.”

Cordelia thought how wrong that statement was, but she didn’t dare to say anything. The Herondales were loved by everyone of their friends and family, but she was aware of the whispers and the looks most of the members of the Clave directed at them. She had witnessed firsthand during the ball they organized to welcome the Carstairs in London, and even when she offered to marry James there was still somebody who couldn’t keep their mouths shut and had to badmouth them. This hurt her a lot. Not just because they offended her future parabatai Lucie and her future fake husband James, but also because of the falsehood that were spread, especially when she knew how they were honest and kind towards everyone. They didn’t deserve this treatment.

“Better Herondale than Fairchild, indeed,” Alastair muttered under his breath by the window. Cordelia didn’t know the specifics, but she knew that something had happened between Matthew and her brother.

“Alastair. Let’s not dwell on this argument anymore, shall we,” her mother reprimanded him, to which Alastair replied with a grunt.

“I’m going to head out,” he informed them, then turned towards his sister. “I’m glad you are fine, Layla. But if it ever crosses your mind to visit father again, I won’t let you go alone. You understand?”

“Yes, brother. I’ll tell you when I want to see father again,” If I want to see him again, she added in her mind.

“Good,” and then he was out.

*************

James didn’t want to leave Cordelia’s house until she would regain consciousness.

He didn’t believe he was overdoing his role of fiancée, even if his relationship with Cordelia was not real. On the other hand, he knew that he needed to be there for her anyway, because he cared for her more than he could imagine, more than he was aware.

Sona, Cordelia’s mother, told him that she couldn’t let him see her daughter until she would open her eyes. She respected that they were engaged and she probably supposed that they had also been intimate, but she couldn’t let him stay by her side alone.

James agreed to that despite he wanted to assist Cordelia and stay with her once she would wake. At least he was one floor below her private room, which helped ease a bit of his apprehension. Risa brought him a cup of Prince of Wales tea to sip as he waited, but the dark brew didn’t help with his foreboding sense of helplessness. He sat on the plushy sofa and sipped the tea, but he soon had to put the cup back on the small table or he would let it fall and it would stain the Persian rug, which wasn’t a good idea. His hands were clammy, and they wouldn’t stop trembling as if he had been stung by a bee and it was starting to numb the flesh. He hadn’t finished the tea, which eventually turned cold.

“James, would you stop it?”

It was Matthew who admonished him. His best friend but also his parabatai, who decided to stay with him. He realized not long ago that he might have gotten closer to Cordelia during the course of the last weeks, but they never talked about their feelings for her. He wasn’t sure Matthew felt something for Cordelia which went beyond friendship, but just thinking about the idea that he might made him edgy. They never liked the same people, but he couldn’t make a truthful comparison because Matthew heavily disliked Grace, the only person James ever fancied in his short life.

“What?” James inquired, touching the finger were his family ring would be. The ring which now belonged to Cordelia as a promise. He felt bare, even if the heirloom was in better hands.

“You need to calm down. Have you heard what your uncle said? She is fine. She doesn’t have any wounds or swelling. She just needs a little rest, that is all.”

James frowned at Matthew and shook his head. “You are right, but we’ve been here for hours and she’s still unconscious. I’m worried. Her own father tried to strangle her.”

“It wasn’t probably her father, though.”

“No one could have entered the Silent City, Math. Who could have been?”

“What if it was your grandfather? He has possessed people before. Didn’t he say his goal was to take control of your body?”

James flinched, glancing away, trying to look at anything but his parabatai. “Yes, it is possible. But it doesn’t explain how he could get there. He is still a demon, the Silent City holds criminals, but it can’t hold demons.”

“I don’t want to contradict you, but as you are aware, he possessed Ariadne Bridgestock when she was ill in the infirmary,” Matthew explained. “He could have possessed Elias’ body.”

“It makes sense now that I think about it, but it still doesn’t explain why.”

“Because he wants you, that’s why.”

James and Matthew turned abruptly to the door. Alastair, Cordelia’s brother, was leaning on the door’s jamb, with his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed. It wasn’t atypical for him because he was always grumpy or annoyed whenever James or the Merry Thieves were concerned, but now James noticed how Alastair’s tone lacked contempt.

James, who was already standing by the tea table, pressed his lips together. He didn’t intend for Cordelia’s brother to overhear his conversation with Matthew, but they were at his house after all. “Can’t say you are wrong,” he shot back, “but I wish you believe me that it wasn’t my intention.”

“It wasn’t your intention to have a prince of hell as a grandfather?” Alastair wondered, but it was more of a rhetorical question than an accusation. He shook his head and moved closer to where James was standing. “What I meant is that it’s not your fault that you are related to such a despicable human being. We can’t choose our kin, but we can choose our allies.”

James frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to be our ally, Alastair Carstairs? You, of all people?” Matthew asked out of the blue, rising from the armchair. He pointed his finger at Cordelia’s brother, baring his teeth at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Alastair rolled his eyes with exasperation at Matthew. James understood that his parabatai was angry because of the false rumors Alastair spread when they were at the Academy, but as much as those things hurt him, they were in the past. Ever since they had met him again, he looked different. He wasn’t absolving him of his crimes, nor he had completely forgiven him, but he wanted to try to see things from his perspective. He was still Cordelia’s brother and she loved him very much. In spite of their fake marriage, he wanted to try and be civil with Alastair.

“I don’t want these demonic things or whatever they are to hurt my sister as much as you, Fairchild. Namely after this morning Elias was possessed by one of them.”

“Are you sure he was possessed?”

“Didn’t the Silent Brother tell you? That’s what they think,” Alastair explained.

James’s mouth opened slightly upon hearing that Alastair knew more than he did. He had asked his uncle Jem to check on Cordelia, but after he was done, he hadn’t told him anything about the suspicions he and the other Brothers had had, and had fled from the Carstairs’s home. He tried not to look away from Alastair as he felt a stab of pain right in his heart. He wondered why Jem hadn’t spoken to him. Maybe he had his reasons, but it still hurt him all the same.

Matthew gawked at James and came to his rescue. “That’s what we were discussing before you came,” he replied for his parabatai before he could form a coherent sentence. James felt relieved that his best friend acknowledged his distress. That wasn’t just how parabatai bonds worked, it was also how profound and close James and Matthew’s friendship was.

“By the way, my sister is awake. She was asking for you.”

James nodded, and before Alastair or Matthew could add more, he left the room to check on the woman who would soon become his wife. His distress, however, didn’t subside, but he would deal with that later. Now Cordelia was his priority.

#jordelia #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #James and Cordelia #cordelia and james #the last hours #Chain of Gold #chain of iron #chain of thorns #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #tlh #alastair carstairs #matthew fairchild #sona carstairs #my edits #tweety writes

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aliceslantern · 4 years

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Grow, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 3

Suddenly human and abandoned in the Keyblade Graveyard, Demyx struggles to survive and come to terms with what his life is. Only by chance is he saved from exposure, and brought to Radiant Garden to recover. Unsure of who he is and where to even begin, Demyx finds a kindred spirit in Ienzo, and before long finds perhaps he isn't the only one lost in this new life. But how can they move forward with so much holding them back?

Roughly canonverse, Zemyx, hurt/comfort. Started for Zemyx day (9/6). Updates Wednesdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: Newly recovered, Demyx tries to figure out what he wants from this life.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

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Demyx was getting used to being prodded by Even. He checked on him at least once a day. The more time passed, the more often Demyx looked forward to it, because at least he was someone to talk to. As long as he was tethered, he couldn’t really go anywhere by himself.

“Admittedly I know little about ophthalmology,” Even said, staring deep into his eyes with the same penlight. “These should help. I had Ansem print them for me.” He handed Demyx a pair of glasses.

“...Ansem?”

“Oh--right. I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” His lip curled. “The former king of Radiant Garden. This is his castle.” His tone was bitter.

Demyx only knew a little about the story of the apprentices from his time in the Organization, and that he suspected was embellished. “So is he, like, your boss?”

“No,” Even said shortly. “He was our mentor--in the past, anyway. Now we work together.”

“With Kairi.”

“Yes. Try those, will you? I have to get back down there soon.”

Demyx put them on. After days of blurriness, to have clarity back was odd. “Whoa. HD.”

“I had to hazard a guess at the strength.”

“No, they’re fine.” He blinked.

“Well, that just means the poor vision has nothing to do with what you went through.” He shook his head. “One less thing to worry about.”

“You must be busy.”

“Idle hands make the devil’s work,” Even said absently. Then, “well… I suppose busy hands do too.”

“What do you guys do down there?” He swung his legs back and forth a little.

“You know of the princesses of heart, yes? Kairi’s one of them. We’re hoping given her connection to Sora, and the special properties of a heart of light, we might be able to find answers as to where that boy is. If he is.” A pause, then, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it’s not like you understand.”

Demyx shrugged, trying to hide how he was stung.

“Regardless, it is a concrete goal to work towards… and for that I’m thankful.”

He turned away. With his newly sharpened vision, Demyx could see more acutely the lines around his eyes, the gray mixed into his blond hair. He looked exhausted. “Thanks, Ev,” he said. “Do you know how much longer I’m gonna need this?” Gesturing to the port in his hand.

“Even,” he corrected, then sighed. “I suppose you have a point… your last labs were the best yet. If you’re up and about you can take care of yourself.”

“Yeah. Plus I’m kind of going insane sitting here for so long.” He offered a hesitant smile.

Even considered. He went over to the sink, washed his hands, put on gloves, and grabbed some gauze. “I’m afraid this may hurt,” he said.

Demyx had thought it was just a needle, but it was more of a thin tube inside of his vein due to how long they’d thought he’d have it. Removing it did hurt a lot, and he swore out loud. But once it was gone… despite his throbbing hand… he felt so much lighter. “Can I walk around?” he asked. “Can I do stuff?”

“So long as you are careful. ”

“Thank you!” He leapt to his feet and pulled Even into a hug; he jerked as though he’d been shocked.

“Please do not touch me,” he hissed in a completely different tone. There was something dark and closed off in his eyes, more than his typical sharpness.

“I’m sorry--I’m just so glad.”

“Yes. Quite. Well.” He left without so much of a backwards glance.

Demyx bit his lip. He hadn’t meant anything by it. It was just a hug, right? He’d apologize again later when Even checked on him.

It was time to get out of this room. Apparently this place served as a sort of infirmary for the castle, though nobody else had had to come down here. It had its own bathroom, so Demyx hadn’t even needed to cross its threshold. Leaving felt odd, but it wasn’t like he was in prison.

The hallways down here were dark, without windows, sconces providing the only light. The carpeting was thick, heavy, and needed a good clean; it squished uncomfortably under his slippers. He wandered for a while, mentally taking stock every now and again so he would be able to find his way back. The layout was weird, putting it lightly, and he could see places where the castle had been renovated, or added on-to, architecture and design clashing oddly. Apparently the apprentices had all lived here in the heyday--they must live here now. It wasn’t like Demyx was a stranger to living in castles, but this one felt so much more real and old than the one in the World that Never Was. He ran his fingers along the crown moulding, touched the lamps when he saw them. This place must’ve once been nice, but it was dirty, and in a state of relative disrepair.

Would this be his home now?

The thought was jarring, and he stopped in his tracks. Pushed the glasses up his nose. The better he physically got, the more apparent it was that he had nowhere to go and nobody. No friends, no family. Hadn’t Lea and Isa just extended that invitation to be nice? Did they really mean what they said?

A weepiness came over him, and he bit it back. He felt like he’d been buffering for so long, going here nor there in his life? What did he want? Who was he really? The more he thought about it, the less Demyx felt like the self he’d been as little as two weeks ago. Was he changing? Becoming “different”?

All these thoughts were giving him anxiety.

He wandered for a little while longer, coming across a section that seemed a bit cleaner than the others. There was wood flooring here, not carpeting, and Demyx could see some old windows in the walls. A few swatches of paint were here and there. He saw a few doors here and there and tried one on impulse; it was open. He could just barely see bedroom furniture, a small rose bush in a pot by a window--

“What are you doing snooping around?”

The voice startled him; he yelped and clutched at his chest, the new glasses falling to the floor. Demyx scrambled to pick them up. Slowly, he turned and saw Dilan, Xaldin’s Somebody, in a blue uniform. Frowning. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know… I’m guessing this is your room, then?”

“...Quite,” he said gruffly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go barging into spaces you haven’t been invited to.”

“Of course. Yeah.”

There was a pause. His hair was neater than Xaldin’s, Demyx realized, and was his skin a bit darker.

“I didn’t know you guys lived here,” Demyx continued. “I was just… taking a look around.”

“You’re up on your feet, then?”

“Well. Obviously.” He cleared his throat a little. “I haven’t been able to leave that room for like a week.” A wry laugh.

“Ienzo told me what happened.” Dilan shook his head. “What a cruel thing to do.”

Demyx shrugged. He and Xaldin hadn’t had the best rapport in the Organization days, and he didn’t know what to say.

“You’re well, though?” he asked.

“...Getting there. I think.” He rubbed at his sore arm.

“Do you… know what you’re to do next?”

“No,” he admitted slowly. “It’s been… hard.”

“Of that I am well aware.” He touched his chest.

“So… I’m gonna go,” Demyx said. “I won’t, uh, mess with your stuff.”

“Much appreciated.”

Demyx set off in the opposite direction. He was getting hungry now, his appetite only growing in the passing days. Usually someone brought along a meal to him, so he headed back. He found a sandwich and an apple on a plate on his bedside, and once this lunch was done with, he just… sat. Waiting. After a few minutes of this, he decided to take out Arpeggio to try and get his mind off of things. His fingers were a bit shaky, but within about fifteen minutes he was able to play with the same fluidity as before.

But it was… harder. Not physically. But as he picked through old compositions he felt the emptiness composed by his Nobody self, the sadness, the loneliness. At the same time, they felt like they’d been created by a stranger, despite the fact that he remembered writing them. A strange dissonance. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, a heart to truly feel music with?

What did Demyx feel?

He tried to parse it out. Empty, again? Tired, sad? Overwhelmed?

Having a heart was supposed to be easy.

He let Arpeggio fade and curled up. A cool breeze came in through the cracked window. He stared out at the little bit of town he could see, feeling on the verge, the breath of remembering--

“I thought I heard you playing. How do you feel?”

Demyx’s head snapped up. He saw not Even, but Ienzo, in that white-coat getup. He was carrying a small bundle. “Um, alright,” he said, blinking yet more tears out of his eyes. “Where’s Even?”

“He and Ansem are trying to solve a problem with one of our simulations.” He cocked his head a little. “I do know enough about medicine.”

“I know, I just…” He swallowed, and considered telling Ienzo. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“I brought you some more clothes, too. And this.” He held up a gummiphone. “You might find a use for it--if you don’t break this one.”

Demyx took it from him. “Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have to--”

“The castle is large. It makes it easier to keep in touch if we all have one--heaven forbid something happen to you.” His tone was dismissive.

Ienzo came over to him, went through the familiar motions of taking his vitals. He listened to Demyx’s heart. It was strange to be so close to him, and a little uncomfortable in a way Demyx couldn’t define. His eyes were a bit greener than Demyx remembered, and his eyebrows furrowed together just slightly. Demyx could hear him breathe. “Your heart rate’s a little high,” he said. “Are you nervous?”

He cleared his throat. “No. Ah. Just a little anxious, I guess.” He felt the blood rush to his face, trying to place that feeling.

“Why?”

“I just don’t know what to do now,” Demyx admitted.

Ienzo took the stethoscope out of his ears. “That is the question, isn’t it,” he said slowly. “After so long of having little to no choice, suddenly the world is open in front of us. Like having the rug yanked from under you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It really is. But don’t you… have your work, and stuff?”

Ienzo set the object aside. “I do,” he said. His eyes flicked up in thought. “But at the same time… I was with the Organization for considerably longer than you. Work… well, it’s something concrete to work towards.”

“Even said the same thing.”

His expression darkened a little. “We all seek to be better people. To… make up for the hell we’ve wrought. Working with the guardians of light… providing them with whatever they need to the best of our abilities... is the least we can do.”

Demyx picked at the lint on his pants. “I… thought about it, in the desert,” he admitted. In his newly-sharpened peripheral he saw Ienzo’s head snap up, his eyes widening. “If this wasn’t karma.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“But… you know…” He forced a laugh. “I’m here , right? If whatever forces exist in this world wanted me gone… I would be toast. Same for you. And Even and them. We literally came back from the dead.”

“A second chance,” Ienzo murmured. “Quite.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “But that doesn’t help tell me what to do. Or how to feel about any of it.” The blood rushed to his face. “And I’m sure you’re too busy to listen to this.”

“No,” Ienzo said. He sat down next to Demyx on the bed. He was shorter than Demyx remembered. More weird reformation? “This is the first bearable conversation I’ve had in a while.”

He snorted. “Really?”

Ienzo sighed heavily. “A lot happened that I don’t particularly care to get into at the moment. But things between us are… a bit tense.”

“...Oh.” Ienzo’s smile was small and sad. Demyx couldn’t actually remember if he’d ever seen him do it, and before he could stop himself he said, “you have a nice smile. I’ve never seen it.”

The blood rushed to Ienzo’s face.

“I’m sorry, was that weird to say?”

“No, ah.” He pulled at his collar a little. “No.” He knotted his hands in his lap. “I know in the past our rapport has been… rocky.”

Demyx bit his lip and thought back. For a long while, he and Zexion had both been part of the reconnaissance team, but whenever they’d been paired together, it hadn’t exactly ended well. Their personalities clashed like oil and water; Demyx’s carefree attitude and low ambition combined with Zexion’s perfectionism always ended in fights. “You could say that again.”

He chuckled a little; strangely, it had no sound. “Perhaps it would do to start over,” he said. He offered his hand. “I’m Ienzo.”

“Demyx. Nice to meet you.”

He pretended not to notice the tingle he felt when they shook.

#grow #demyx #ienzo #zemyx #even (kingdom hearts)#dilan (kingdom hearts)

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fgodestinyawakenings · 6 years

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FGO Destiny Awakenings: Fuyuki Singularity Section 3 pt.1

Olga Marie: As your Director, I demand respect and attention as becoming my bodyguard! Ritsuka: Director, with all due utmost respect to you, I am going to completely ignore everything you just said.

Investigate the Bridge

At the bridge in Fuyuki city, the four had agreed by Olga Marie to start their investigation in the heart of the city.

But, before they could go further, Olga Marie halted and spun to Ritsuka. “Before we start exploring the city, Fujimaru Ritsuka, isn’t there something you want to say?”

“No, nothing in particular, Director,” Ritsuka replied. The blunt tone of his received a vein popped at Olga Marie’s head and a glare to him.

Understood what she meant, Ritsuko went to her brother and nudged him. “Hey, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Ritsuka turned to his sister and clarified. “Forgotten what?”

Olga Marie’s voice called out to him, “You’re not very smart, are you? Remember what happened in the Command Room?”

“Huh?”

Mash stopped beside him and whispered, “Ritsuka-senpai, it’s about when you dozed off in the Command Room. It’ll come back to you if you focus. That was, you know–!”

-0-

“We made it in time, Senpais. Your numbers are,” Hours earlier as they arrived, Mash gave a swift glimpse and turned to them. “Single digit, both of you are in the front row. Please take any seats in the front row.”

With a nod, the siblings mouthed a ‘thanks’ and headed to their seats. But as they were to go, Another dizzy spell strike Ritsuka and faltered before being held up by his sister.

“Ritsuka?!” Ritsuko panicked at her brother’s abrupt change of his condition.

Mash approached him and recognized it too, “Ritsuka-senpai? You’re looking a bit pale…”

Ritsuka shook his head to clear of vertigo, but it merely became worse by his action. “Sorry, I’m starting to space out again…”

“It’s an aftereffect of the simulator.”

At Ritsuko’s furrowed eyebrows, Mash explained to her, “It’d be best to bring him to the infirmary…”

Before Ritsuka could persuade them, he felt something jabbed at his back. His blue orbs moved to catch the silvery-haired woman standing on the stage was giving them an annoyed glare.

Mash noticed and mumbled, “Right in front of the director, what a bad luck.”

Lev approached them and told, “Let’s cut the chit-chat. It’s about to start.”

Without an alternative, Ritsuko aided her brother to their seat while the other two headed to the back.

A glance to examine every seat was occupied, the silvery-haired woman talked, “Not quite on time, but it looks like everybody’s here. Welcome to Special Organization, Chaldea. I’m the director, Olga Marie Animusphere.

“You have been selected, or discovered from each nation for your rare talents.

“By talent, I mean your aptitude for Spiritrons.

“People with magical circuits capable of becoming a Masters. I’m sure you can’t even imagine it, but be sure to keep this in mind. You are about to be reborn as cutting-edge mages, in an unprecedented fusion of magecraft and science.

“That said, although all of you possess special talents, none of you are special. Understand that you all are inexperienced rookies, standing at the same starting point.

“In particular, the mages sent from the Association still seem to be acting like students,” Olga Marie’s orbs shifted to the particular group at her left. “Fix that immediately. Chaldea is my domain. Family heritage and persona achievements have no meaning here.

“Always remember that my orders are absolute. My position is completely different from yours. I won’t allow arguments. You’re all mere tools to protect humanity, nothing more.”

With no less than a second, gossips chatter among the recruits.

“Geez…”

“Tools?”

“What does that mean?”

The siblings were no exemption as Ritsuko grumbled. “Gee, talk about a bitchy supervisor to have on your first day of duty.”

“She’s apparently the ones who… Are harsh and stubborn on the outside… But,” Another silent yawn escaped Ritsuka’s lips. “Also… The ones who are more bitchy and miserable in… The… Inside…”

Olga Marie watching the gossips before her gritted her teeth, called out in an imposing tone. “What’s that commotion? Didn’t I just tell you I wouldn’t allow any arguments?”

“You there,” Olga Marie yelled. Her sharp voice made Ritsuko flinched who was struggling to nudge her brother out from dreamland. With a harsh glare, she approached them and asked, “Do you have a problem with what I just said?”

Ritsuko shook her head as a response. But, Olga Marie remained unhappy at the still-sleeping Ritsuka. She tugged his collar up roughly and murmured to herself, “Am I seeing this right? Maybe my eyes are playing a trick on me?”

Whack!

The Director swung her left hand and slapped with a powerful impact. Ritsuko gasped and drew her brother back behind her with a glare, “Hey, what the hell was that for?!”

Olga Marie had a bewildered expression when glancing back-and-forth between her palm and Ritsuka. “Sleeping while standing… No way, right? Not in a million years…”

Ritsuko turned and realized the Director was right. It’s a miracle Ritsuka was still dead asleep with the stinging red palm on his cheek.

A second afterward, a female voice cried from Ritsuko’s back. “Hey, I didn’t sign up for this! We’re experts who were summoned here because of our skills! We came all this way on your insistence. Absolute obedience? That’s ridiculous!”

Another male voice roared in approval. “She’s right, you’re way overstepping! Lineage is the most important asset for a mage! How can you brush it off?”

More outburst from other candidates voiced out their irritation. Despite the antagonism and irritation from them, Olga Marie bowed her head and gritted her teeth. Soon, she faced up and yelled, “Quiet! No talking! That’s why I say you’re still acting like students!

“I’m only telling you what’s going on right now. If you don’t like it, leave Chaldea at once!” From Olga Marie’s jab, there were a few ready to argue back. But, a smirk graced her lips as she continued, “Not that there are flights to send you home.

“Though if you’re ready to trek down a snowy mountain 6,000 meters above sea level, that would be commendable.”

A silence spread from the hesitated atmosphere among the crowd. With a quick scan from the mellowed candidates, Olga Marie announced, “Very good! Nobody’s dropped out. Seriously, don’t make me waste my time on such matters.”

“I wish you’d realize that how dire our, no, humanity’s situation is now,” Olga Marie warned. She again pointed to the sleeping Ritsuka set back on his seat by his sister. “Look. He is a good example. No argument, no opinion. Good and obedient.”

“You’d better take that last part back once he wakes up, especially once his mouth opens, Director,” Ritsuko muttered to herself.

Olga Marie turned on her heels and headed back to the stage. “Now, then, back to the topic. Are you listening? Today is–!”

-0-

In the present, Ritsuka touched his cloth-covered cheek and murmured, “At least I know how the slap came from…”

“And you blame me for waking you up,” Ritsuko sighed with a deadpan face.

Mash nodded and asked, “Do you remember now, Ritsuka-senpai?”

“Well, no. I got pulled into that strange place, so my body is there but my soul isn’t,” Ritsuka answered inside his mind. But, it would sound preposterous and burdened himself into further trouble.

Chose to share this dream with his sister later, Ritsuka replied to Mash. “In a way, Mash.”

But, Olga Marie wasn’t buying his words and scowled, “Remembered? You weren’t listening after all, were you? Honestly! Sit yourself down!”

Pointed to a nearby debris, Ritsuka sighed inwardly and headed there to grab a seat. Olga Marie stood before him and reproached, “How could you come to a Singularity not knowing the situation or your mission? I’m going to have to explain it to you again–!”

“Director, enemies are incoming!” Mash shouted, her shield armed and raised before her. A troop of skeleton heading towards them at a steady trot.

Ritsuko approached Mash and exhaled a relieved sigh, “Good timing, Mash! Let’s take them down!”

Ritsuka stood up and nodded, “Let’s go–!”

Before he could take off, Ritsuka found himself pulled back to the rubble by no one other than Olga Marie. She asserted, “Not you! Unlike you, that girl who listened to my speech. You’re going to stay here and listen to what I have to say!”

“There’s more than where that came from?!” Ritsuka showed a disbelief expression on her.

“Why, certainly! Fujimaru Ritsuka! Don’t tell me you forgot already!” Olga Marie folded her arms. “I’m only halfway through! In fact, it’s the latter half that’s important! Make yourself remember!”

After peering at the Director for a while, Ritsuka let out a huge sigh and seated back on the debris. He quietly complained to himself. “What a piece of work she is…”

“Now, now, don’t be like that,” Romani’s laughter sounded out from Ritsuka’s wristwatch. He lifted and rested his arm on his lap as the doctor’s voice continued. “Director’s ramblings can be useful, Ritsuka-kun. Why were you Master candidates summoned to Chaldea? This will explain that.”

Ritsuka nodded with a whisper while concentrating on the Director’s lecture. “I suppose so…”

-0-

After coming back to the stage from the commotion, Olga Marie resumed her speech. “Listen up. Today of all days, we at Chaldea will achieve something that will be written in history. The science of learning. The invention of religion. The acquisition of navigation.

“The focus of communication. The voyage into space. Our legacy will be on a par with the ‘Pioneers of the Stars.’ No, it will surpass them. Rather than expanding civilization, we will be the hands of God protecting it.”

Olga Marie gazed remained her right hand raised and clenched.

“Stabilizing human history, we will transform the future into a solid resolution.

“The principles of mankind—in other words, to ensure the continuation of humanity.

“That is Chaldeas’s, and now your only and absolute purpose.”

From the intrigued expression in the audience, Olga Marie gave a satisfied smirk and continued.

“Chaldea has achieved many results to date.

“The development of observation Cyber daemon, Laplace.

“The Global Environment Model, Chaldeas.

“Completion of the Near-Future Observation Lens, Sheba.

“The Heroic Spirit Summoning System, Fate, and the launch of the Spiritron Calculation Engine, Trismegistus.

“With these technologies, we at Chaldea have observed humanity’s progress one hundred years into the future.”

As she had signaled her hand, a holographic image flashed beside her. Each slide by a wave of her hand showed each of the achieved equipment completed in the room. Olga Marie went on, “We do not predict the future, but observe it. Like many who had observed celestial bodies, Chaldea has been observing the future.

“Whatever it sees, our job has been to ensure that humanity will survive 100 years in the future. Look up, that is Chaldeas’s proudest achievement–!”

With her hands directing the crowd, she presented to them the glowing blue globe in the middle of the room. “Created with advanced magical theories, the Global Environmental Model, our Chaldeas.

“Planets have been defined as beings with souls. We copied them into this miniature Earth. Because of the difference in scale, we’re unable to read every single human mind. But whatever’s on the surface, the city lights can be seen on land, can be observed through Sheba.”

The holographic image beside Olga Marie zoomed closer to the Chaldeas globe. Small yellow glowing dots were marked on each part of the continents of the Earth. The Director glanced at it before turning back. “Currently, it’s been set to reflect the Earth one hundred years from now. Chaldeas may as well be the future of Earth itself.

“As long as the light of civilization shines within Chaldeas, we can guarantee humans will exist a century further. As long as there’s light people will live in cities and serve as the proof of civilization’s survival. But–!”

Faced to the rear where Lev stood, the Director ordered. “Lev, could you normalize Sheba’s polarization angle?”

With a nod, Lev took out a controller and pushed the few dials on it. The light surrounding Chaldeas globe dulled and dimmed. Its color reduced to a moldy gray-black colored globe, the yellow glowing light faded from the globe.

Olga Marie explained from the crowd’s disturbed reaction. “This is the current state.

“Starting six months ago, Chaldeas changed color, and it’s become difficult to observe the future.

“The light of civilization, our beacon till now, has become largely unobservable to us.”

The confusions of worried chatters among themselves, Olga Marie showed a satisfying smile, “Hmph, the right response. Good to see you’ve got some sense. That’s right. The lack of light means that civilization has become extinct.

“This was considered highly classified, but you have the right to know.

“Our observations indicate that the light of humanity is only visible up to the year 2016. In other words, we’ve observed, no, proved that humanity will become extinct in that year.”

Brows furrowed with a grim expression, the Director amended her words.

“Obviously, this future is not possible.

“It cannot happen, and physically, is impossible.

“There’s neither an economic collapse or some sudden seismic event.

“We can’t explain how humanity would suddenly just disappear. Over the past six months, we’ve found the cause of this strange phenomenon—the disappearance of the future. If the reason is not in the present, then it is in the past.”

Olga Marie waved her hand to produce the holographic image slide to a figure of timeline chart. “Using Laplace and the Trismegistus, we’ve reviewed all data for the past 2000 years. We tried to find something that didn’t exist in history or was on Earth until this point in time. As a result, we finally found something new. It’s this–!”

Another wave of her hand, the hologram projected photographs of a city and worldview of Japan with a red dot on a specific part of the country. Olga Marie placed her finger on the exact dot and illustrated. “Spatial Singularity F, a city in the Japanese countryside in 2004.

“We discovered an ‘unobservable zone’ that did not exist in history up to the year 2015.

“Chaldea hypothesizes that this is the cause of humanity’s extinction.

“We proposed the Rayshift experiment to the U.N. and received approval.”

The holographic image shifted then to a diagram of an individual and a coffin-like tube as she went on. “The Rayshift process transforms a human into spiritrons, sending them into the past and allowing them to alter it. Simply put, it’s time travel. But not everyone can do it.

“Only people with exceptional magical circuits and the ability to become a Master can be transformed.”

As Olga Marie pushed aside the hologram to fade, she shot back to the audience to discuss. “Now—I’m sure that cleared things up. Your task is the investigation of Singularity F. You’ll travel 14 years into the past, find Singularity F, and destroy it.

“We are now entering unknown territory. There’s no telling what you might find there. But you’re selected from among people all over the world. You can do this, and we have high expectations for you.”

The earlier commotion mellowed and changed to complete silence from her words. Olga Marie ordered in a decisive tone. “The higher-ups want to know the cause of this at once. We don’t have time to waste.

“We’ll be performing the first Rayshift experiment in an hour. I’m sure you’ve all had enough training. For the first experiment, we’ll send A-Team, the top 8 scorers, to Singularity F.”

Olga Marie pulled up another hologram at her side. It revealed 8 other people of 3 girls and 5 guys under the heading of Team A. “I haven’t told the later groups. But they’re Master candidates who have been chosen from Chaldea. A-Team has been active for a month now.

“You can call them trained warriors.

“A-Team will go on ahead and set up a base camp at Singularity F, guaranteeing your safety.

“B-Team and below will watch their situation and prepare for the next experiment.”

Another slide switched by the Director’s hand, she described with the model of a Coffin shown beside her. “Let’s register your information with the Klein Coffins, the arks that will send you to the past as spiritrons.

“There’s one for each person, and there are no spares. Be very careful with them. B-Team through D will be on standby, in case of trouble with A-Team.”

Yet again, commotions restarted from the crowd. Olga Marie frowned at them from their worried expressions and reminded. “What are you doing? I told you what you have to do. You were brought here as a potential Master. You’re practically a soldier now.

“You will obey orders and be ready for a fight. Do not make me repeat myself. Or do you have more questions? Hey you, the one who was late with him!” Olga’s Marie sharp tone made Ritsuko flinched while she was focusing on the image of the Coffin.

The Director’s sharp orbs stared right at her and demanded, “You look confused. I’ll give you the chance to ask one question.”

From a small gulp, Ritsuko pondered in her mind. She then raised her hand and inquired the one which had remained on her mind. “Is it safe to change the past, Director?”

Eyes twitched with a vexed expression, Olga Marie glowered at her slowness in learning.

“Does the word ‘Singularity’ means nothing to you?

“The singularity we found doesn’t exist in any of our observation records.

“It’s like a hole that just appeared out of nowhere. The hole itself is cut off from the temporal axis. The 2004 singularity exists apart from the past and future. There’s no need to connect it to our present. It’s more stable than regular time travel, and whatever happens, the timeline can still repair itself.

“Singularity F is like a tiny stain on the dress that is human history. It ruins beauty just by its presence. Your job is to extract it. That’s what will return humanity to its proper, observed course of history.”

Turned her head elsewhere, Olga Marie grumbled to herself. “What is the Association thinking sending me someone who doesn’t know basic space-time theory? I told them this plan was a Grand Order, the highest possible duty in the world of magecraft…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Shifted her head back to Ritsuko, she inquired. “What team are you with? Show me your ID.”

The Director raised her wristwatch with Ritsuko’s and Ritsuka’s ID flashed after the other. Orange orbs widened with rage, she yelled, “What? You two are in the wrong spot! A civilian, and with no combat or training experience? Chaldea is much too important to be wasting valuable slots on people like you!”

Ritsuko glared and clenched her fist. She had been enduring from the beginning of her insult to them, and the slap against her brother. But now, this had was too much even if she’s a Director. Before she could rebut, Olga Marie’s sharp voice yelled, “Lev! Lev Lainur!”

“I’m right here, Director. Why the yelling? Is there a problem?” Lev walked in from behind and stopped beside Olga Marie.

Olga Marie shifted to him and answered, “There’re problems everywhere! Just get this two amateur out of my sight!”

“Oh… So, that’s it?” Nodded thoughtfully, Lev replied in a calm tone, “Director, they are chosen Master candidates.”

“Having an inexperienced amateur here is a problem!” Olga Marie responded, “What if something happens to my Chaldeas?”

Hummed to himself, Lev turned to Ritsuko looking both at them with an impassive expression. But, beneath under was her well-hidden glare towards the Director. With a beam, he turned back to the Director. “Sure they lack experience, but it’s inappropriate to be that rude. Ritsuko-kun has been listening to your speeches even if she lacks the skill.”

As Olga Marie to quip back, Lev gave a charming and convincing grin to her. A second afterward, she angrily huffed and replied before stomped off. “Fine! She can stay but get that other out of here! Let Romani handle him! At least get some basic training in!”

Observed her leaving, Lev sighed before turning back, “Hmm, I don’t think she likes both of you. All right, orders are orders.”

The Professor lifted his hand and signaled Mash to come over. Once she reached, he requested to her. “Mash, show Ritsuko-kun where Ritsuka-kun’s room is.”

“All right, understood,” Mash nodded. “I just need to take Ritsuko-senpai to Ritsuka-senpai’s room, right?”

“Yes, thanks,” Lev replied with a grin. “I’m busy with the Rayshift experiment and can’t leave here.”

He spun towards Ritsuko and assured, “Don’t worry. This experiment will be over in 2 hours. We’ll drop by to your brother’s room then.”

With a relived breath heaved out, Ritsuko grinned and bowed. “Thank you very much, Prof Lev.”

“No need to thank me. You and your brother are really lucky after all.” Lev smiled back.

Mash nodded and gestured to Ritsuko. “Come this way. I’ll show you to Ritsuka-senpai’s room.”

Ritsuko nodded and brought one of Ritsuka’s arms over her shoulder and followed Mash out of the room…

-0-

“And that’s how you were removed from the Command Room. Remember?”

“Ah, welcome back, you two,” Turned to where the voice was, Ritsuka greeted them. He nodded to Mash approaching him with Ritsuko. “And not that I remember… At least I know how and why I'm removed from the room.”

Turned to Olga Marie, she fumed with a glare at Ritsuka. “You little… You look quiet, but you’ve got some nerve, don’t you?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of watching out for the quiet ones, Director?” Ritsuka thought.

Cleared her throat, Olga Marie put her attention at the Fujimaru siblings. “Anyway! Do you finally know how much of a mess you made at that critical moment?”

“Um, Director Marie? I think that’s going a little too far…” Romani’s voice pointed out from Ritsuka’s wristwatch.

“Uh… You weren’t planning to dive, so I’m not sure you needed your suit.” Mash nodded in agreement and pointed out too.

“I did! I most certainly did!” Olga Marie cried, her feet stomped on the ground. “I had a special Mystic Code made for this mission.”

“But Director, you mentioned. ‘Is that a problem? What commander heads to the front lines? Didn’t I tell you that you were my tools?’, why would you dive when your ‘tools’ here are on the front lines?” Ritsuko mentioned with a smirk, her calm tone mixed with smugness.

As Ritsuka nodded, Olga Marie couldn’t find words to rebut by her own remarks. Instead, she settled with a grumble. “Jeez, I didn’t even get to wear it once…

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” The Director shifted her gaze to the siblings.

“Anyway, you understand your responsibilities and duties as a Master candidate now, right?”

By their nod, Olga Marie turned to Ritsuka. “Very well, Fujimaru Ritsuka. I’m ordering you to be my bodyguard. Mash had complimented your abilities to deal with those monsters. Work hard.”

A minute later, Ritsuka questioned with a skeptical expression. “Are you trying to be someone you’re not?”

“This is who I am! I was just in a hurry back there!” But when Ritsuka rolled his orbs at her, Olga Marie shouted. “Once we get back to Chaldea, you’re in for it.”

“Aye aye, oh ‘great Director’!” Ritsuka replied with sarcasm laced. He ignored the crimson blush appeared on her face and moved to the debris.

With a relieved grin, Mash said, “Good to see you three getting along. Let’s move before more enemies show up.”

“I’m not even sure if this relationship lasts before we’re fired,” Ritsuko shook her head tiredly.

Once Ritsuka had drawn out a sturdier metallic pole within the rubble, the group continued walking towards their destination.

End of Section 3 Part 1

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo destiny awakenings

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audriel · 6 years

Text

The fourth part of my KHR AU fic (1, 2, 3). Also posted in AO3. Initially I want to post this chapter for Kuroo’s birthday, but I struggle with it because I end up getting into Nekoma politics, and seriously, why can’t my muse make it easy for me?? It’s for the same reason that I cannot say that there’ll be less angst so... Warning: ANGST, lots of angst, brief description of anxiety attack, family politics, and Kenma kicking ass.

Last but not least, Happy late birthday, Kuroo!!

Blood loss and flame exhaustion.

That’s why Kuroo is not waking up even after receiving the best care under the ever watchful eyes of Yaku and Shibayama and in the safety of Nekoma compound.

Medically speaking, he’s on his way for full recovery. His vital signs are strong and his brain activity is normal. His blood work returns clean.

Yaku tried his best to explain Kuroo’s condition when he called for urgent family meeting. They might not have extensive medical knowledge like their resident physician and future certified medical doctor, but they knew enough from experience that three days were far too long to regain consciousness. Even after the most difficult surgeries and heavy sedation, there was always a brief moment of awakening before falling unconscious again. Kuroo didn’t.

He’s just... sleeping, or as close to it.

Yaku and Shibayama didn’t waste any time in performing all the tests they could think of, then turned the results over and sideways and asked for second opinion to no avail, until they went over the Nekoma medical records and stumbled upon the possibility of flame exhaustion. It is a rare condition for the Nekomas whose training heavily emphasizes control, so they very rarely exhaust their flames, regardless of the size of their reserves. They are also trained to recognize their limits, so they can train to push them without exhausting themselves. The records showed that the condition was and should be easily rectified by proper rest.

Tetsu... He drains himself dry, literally and metaphorically.

Kuroo shouldn’t be alive, he should have been dead the moment the bullet entered his body, with the speed it shattered and multiplied, especially when it hit so close to vital organs. There could only be one reason for his survival: he managed to use his Rain flame on the bullet... all the while fighting for his life without using his original flame. Yaku also suspected that Kuroo turned on his foresight throughout the fight. While it was not draining his flames--considering it was a natural ability of Sky flames, it gave him double vision which would also take concentration for him to separate the future possibilities and reality.

There’s nothing much we can do but wait.

The ensuing silence was unbearable. Kuroo could be terrifyingly cold and detached in his decision making that he never placed his life of higher importance than others’. It was a trait that his family both loved and hated in equal measure. Kuroo was not careless with his life, his family extracted that promise from him, but he would and could not promise to choose himself over the lives he could save. It felt like a paltry promise back then, but seeing how hard Kuroo fought to keep that promise, to survive...

Kenma cannot stay any longer in the room, leaving an illusion of himself in his place to keep the others from noticing. He stumbles out to the hallways, his breathing short and quick. He tries to slow his breathing, he tries to count up and down, he tries everything but nothing works. It has been so long since it was this bad. He has learned to recognize the signs and remove himself before it turns into a full-fledged attack, or Kuroo does it for him. But Kuroo is...

Kuroo... who is lying pale and lifeless on the infirmary bed surrounded by machines... whose flames are so faint and flickering... That Kuroo is not Kuroo. That Kuroo is not his Kuroo, his first and best friend, his brother, his leader. That is-that is not-

The distressing thought does no favor to his condition as his breathing gets worse. Kenma clutches his chest, trying vainly to slow his breathing as he flounders aimlessly. His head feels light, his vision narrow.

Hey, hey. Breathe with me. You’re okay. You’re okay. Suddenly Kenma is seeing young Kuroo crouched in front of him, eyes wide and concerned for a child he had just met. His young self had inched away in surprise at the strange child’s appearance who had managed to see past his Mist illusion.

He never dealt well with children around his age, more so with strangers, and yet despite his initial surprise and suspicion, he found himself drawn to the boy and the outstretched hand.

Kenma had always been able to sense flames, he could feel the slightest change in them and shape them into his liking. It came to him as easy as breathing. He cared not for the clamor and praise that came with it. He cared only for the respite and knowledge he was granted. He cared only for the ability to hide and to tell whom to trust. Kuroo burned with flames that he had never seen before, bright against the darker flames of Mist and warm against the cool indifference of Nekoma.

He finds himself reaching out... and trips face-first on something soft. In his surprise he breathes in, familiar scent and warmth assaulting his senses. He knows this scent, he knows this warmth. He grapples blindly, opening his palm and stretching his fingers to feel. He knows these sheets, these pillows and these blankets thrown haphazardly over large mattress. He doesn’t need to look around to know where he finds himself in.

Kuroo’s bedroom. Kuroo’s bed. Kenma’s and Nekoma’s safe haven.

Since their early acquaintance, Kuroo had made himself available for Kenma. He learned not to lock his doors and grew used to Kenma sneaking into his room and making himself comfortable. However as they ventured deeper and further to the family business, Kenma was becoming not the only one needing comfort and finding their way into Kuroo’s room. After witnessing and experiencing the worst the world could offer, it was not unusual for the family to spend the night together. When Kuroo finally claimed the boss’ quarters, he didn’t bother with proper bed and brought in the widest, thinnest, and most comfortable mattress, covered it with the softest sheets and thrown as many pillows and blankets over it.

Kenma can sense traces of himself and his family between the sheets. He can feel the lingering emotion and memories left among the pillows and blankets, the good and the bad. But most of all, he can feel him, suffusing the bed and the room with his warmth and kindness, with his patience and understanding, with his love and loyalty for his family. Something inside him flickers insistently, as though telling him to pay attention and so Kenma follows, tumbling down and falling deep into himself.

He finds his flame easily, burning indigo-bright. However, there’s another flame, smaller and weaker, but no less bright or warm. Kenma finds himself cradling the orange flame protectively to his chest. He cannot forget how it feels when the light and warmth that he doesn’t know have always been there suddenly are gone, leaving him cold and empty and blind in the dark. He cannot forget the agonizing moments when all of them could only stand still, refusing to believe what they all felt, refusing to mourn and grieve, with nothing they could do but hope and pray and beg that when the light and warmth finally returned they could barely believe it. He cannot forget how they cried, they yelled, and they cried some more. Kuroo was gone, but he was back. He was back.

The flame seems to burn brighter at this realization, sending pulsating warmth throughout his body. It feels familiar, it feels like...

Breathe, Kenma. Breathe. I am here. I am going nowhere.

Kenma finds himself matching his breathing with every pulse, and slowly, surely it evens out. For a while, Kenma lays there, just breathing, letting Kuroo’s presence surround him. However, his analytical mind cannot truly rest, slowly gathering together all the pieces from all his knowledge and observation, but two facts stand out the most in his mind: Kuroo is weak and vulnerable, and he is easy prey to those who want him dead.

Kuro is in danger.

Cat-like eyes snaps open in the dark, bright and sharp. Kenma might not be as dedicated and passionate as others, he has a tendency to shy away from duty and responsibility, but he has given his pledge and loyalty to Kuroo. He has chosen Kuroo. Kuroo and the family he made for himself are and will always be his top priority. If there’s anything that can make him take action, it’s Kuroo and their self-made family. Mind whirling with projections and calculations with such speed and accuracy, emotions set aside and discarded with such ease that makes him valued and considered as the next Nekoma boss, Kenma knows that he cannot act without knowing more information.

He traverses the dark room with ease and familiarity towards the wall on the side of the room. All the rooms in the family quarters are highly secured, because it uses a combination of biological and flame signature. However, one room takes it further by using flame pattern as its lock, which can only be opened by someone who knows the pattern and has the control needed to make the pattern with their flame. It’s a room that can only be opened by Kuroo, and Kenma as his right-hand man.

The lights turns on the moment he steps into the private study of the Nekoma boss. All sides of the room are crammed with information in various forms, from the traditional paper archives to modern digital archives, all but one side that is at the opposite of the grand wooden table with documents and stationary strewn over that has multiple screens mounted on it. In the middle there is interactive table that is not dissimilar with the one they have in the conference room, and its hologram is surprisingly active.

Kenma doesn’t think twice to approach the table and looks over the hovering images of boxes that are intertwined with each other with multiple lines so massive that it almost takes the whole room. Kenma picks one box at random and is wholly unprepared when a familiar voice rings out.

“Vision number 1283-”

The boxes are the detailed accounts of the future Kuroo has seen. Some futures appear only once, some appear frequently. Some change with time, some don’t. Some are clear, some are not. Kuroo managed to organize them into somewhat coherent manner, grouping together similar visions and then arranging them in a timeline. In every account there is a thorough analysis of what he has seen, deciphering what it means, whether it’s a constant or a changeable future, whether it’s part of action and consequence, or completely unrelated, whether the people and the event have any significance.

It is a time-consuming and meticulous work, not mentioning how large and complex it is. Kuroo is thinking more just than the future, he is thinking of the ripples on the pond, of the making of waves. Kenma is capable of seeing the future based on the present and making plans for it accordingly, but this... this is something else. Every person, every action is accounted for, so are their roles and their impact to the future. Kenma is sure that lines should be more convoluted than this but Kuroo has worked through them, removing the uncertain futures and directing them to a more favorable and controllable outcome so that what is left is a tangled mess that Kenma can still follow. It helps that Kuroo also recorded his musings so he can see where he’s coming from.

Kuroo plays out various scenarios, adjusting it accordingly with every change in reality and in foresight until he has narrowed it down into the most plausible scenarios and make plans of action based on them. He scraps the worst of the plans marking it down as unacceptable outcome and keeps the best of them by marking it down as acceptable outcome.

Acceptable outcome.

Kenma’s breathing hitches when he reads the plan. The plan that would have the least consequences, the least casualty: himself.

Acceptable outcome.

The world goes red and when he comes to, Kenma finds himself curled in the corner, the room completely dark but for the screens, flickering in and out, some are cracked. Things are scattered all over the room as though a whirlwind has come and upended everything inside. However, the interactive table somehow remains untouched with its tangled boxes hovering in the air, blocked by a figure reading through the page that he has left open. Kenma watches silently and knows the exact moment when Yaku finishes because he recognizes the unadulterated rage crossing his features.

“It’s my fault.” Kenma finds himself speaking out, catching the Sun guardian’s attention whose expression morphs into concern when he sees him. Yaku kneels down in front of him, careful to keep his distance.

“Why?“ It speaks how well Yaku understands Kenma that instead going for reassurance, he goes for clarification.

“I should have been the boss. I shouldn’t have run away. I shouldn’t have Kuroo shouldered the burden that is not his to bear.“ Once he starts, Kenma can’t seem to stop. “The council didn’t want him, Mori. They wanted Mist boss, even after they found out that he had Sky flame.”

Kenma sees understanding dawns in Yaku’s eyes, the pieces falling into place to make the complete puzzle of one Kuroo Tetsurou. Why Kuroo doesn’t think much of himself despite all of his achievements, why Kuroo insists of using the Mist aspect of his Sky flames, why Kuroo’s backup plans tend to put Kenma in the center, why Kuroo rarely sends Kenma out to the field unless necessary.

Yaku leans back on his heels as though he is struck, the look on his face is of great incredulity.

“A placeholder? All this time?” Yaku looks like he wants to cry and curse and yell, so does Kenma. He should have realized. He should have known better. Kuroo cares too much. He has too much heart. He always wants the best for others, but he rarely, if ever, considers himself. He is his very own and only blind spot.

It should be his duty and responsibility not only as his right hand but also his friend and confidant to make Kuroo see. That he has been the best leader Nekoma can ask for, more than Kenma can ever be.

Kenma presses hard the heels of his hand to his eyes. Kuroo needs time to rest and recover, time he might not have if Kenma wastes his time to wallow in guilt. Kenma stands up, taking Yaku by surprise.

“Yaku.“ Yaku snaps to attention at the change of address. “Call for an emergency meeting in an hour. Attendance is mandatory. Lateness, furthermore, absence, will not be tolerated.“

It takes a moment for the Sun guardian to respond, barely recognizing the younger man before him. Kenma doesn’t look away, doesn’t duck and hide. He meets his gaze straight on. Kenma is dead serious. He won’t accept any excuses. He will have them in the meeting one way or another.

This is Kenma the right-hand man of Nekoma.

Yaku smiles grimly as he stands up, nodding his head. “Consider it done.“

Kenma’s gaze follows Yaku until he’s out of sight, knowing with certainty that he will have all the inner circle along with council members and family representatives in the meeting. He walks towards the interactive table, briefly hesitating before opening up the backup plan Kuroo left behind in the event of his death. As he skims through the plan laid out before him, he understands why Kuroo made the request. He knew he was asking much from them to remain calm and neutral when all they want is to raze the bastards to the ground, because the best outcome hinges on it. Although Kenma has a feeling that Kuroo underestimate how much.

Before he knows it, an hour has passed. Kenma steps into the conference room with Yaku and Kai at his immediate right and left, the rest of the inner circle at their sides and back, giving him the support that he doesn’t realize he needs as he is greeted by the full ensemble of Nekoma’s council members and family representatives standing around the large conference table whose gaze immediately trained on them. Kenma knows Kuroo’s absence doesn’t escape their notice despite their best attempts to hide their alarm especially when he takes his place next to seat at the head of the table. Only the Nekoma boss has the power to call for emergency meeting. And yet, he is not here. Hush falls over the room, which doesn’t help his nerves. Kenma tries not to fidget as he grapples to say something.

“Please be seated.” Kai, bless ever reliable Kai, takes care the formalities so Kenma has less one thing to worry about. Everyone takes their seat, all but Kenma, who cannot find it in himself to sit in Kuroo’s place so he remains standing next to the empty seat.

Kenma breathes in and out, drawing strength from the flame inside him that belong to Kuroo.

For Kuroo.

“Three days ago, we met up with Karasuno to discuss the details of truce arrangement between both of the families. We were represented by Kuroo, Yaku and Kai, and Karasuno was represented by Sawamura, Sugawara and Azumane. It was supposed to be a highly classified meeting with with only few people in the know. And yet, we were attacked.” Kenma pauses as much to let the news sink in as to give himself time.

“We were outnumbered and overpowered. We managed to escape, but Kuroo... Kuroo was hit by Cloud fragmented bullet.” Shock ripples throughout the room. This is the gathering of the most brilliant minds in Nekoma, they are fully aware of the significance and the consequence of the action. Before they arrive to the wrong conclusion, Yaku is quick to step in.

“Kuroo is alive.” The Sun guardians stares them down, daring them to question his words. “However, he suffers from blood loss and flame exhaustion. We don’t know when he will regain consciousness.” Kenma watches everyone’s reaction carefully.

“This is concerning.” Nekomata speaks up. “This is not just simply another assassination attempt. Do you have any suspects?”

“We do, but we do not have sufficient evidence.” All Nekoma in the room catch on to the underlying meaning. Only few people outside the inner circle know about Kuroo’s foresight, but they all know the infamous Sky intuition and has seen it in action that they are willing to set aside their skepticism and follow the plans based on it so long they are ironclad. It will be so easy to give them names and have all Nekoma go after them. But that’s not what Kuroo wants, or what he needs.

"So what would you do?” Kenma cannot quite quell his trepidation when he hears that voice. It is the head of the council himself, Hyou Sakaki. Hyou is among the few of the older generation that remain in the council and representatives. He is a traditionalist, or the closest equivalent to it, in flexible and adaptable Nekoma, because however much Nekoma changes, their core values must and should not change. It is why he is elected as the head of the council, to be the foil of Nekomata, and later Kuroo who are the radicals of Nekoma. He is firm and unyielding as required by his position. He is Nekoma’s harshest critic and devil’s advocate.

Kenma doesn’t have pleasant memory of the man, despite having him as his main supporter for the succession because it meant the elder demanded more from him. Hyou wanted more traditionalist and less radical leader for Nekoma. While he can think out of the box, Kenma does favor the more proven and tested approach and is content with status quo, unlike Kuroo who is more willing to take risks especially with his intuition and challenge the status quo. Hyou doesn’t hide his disappointment when Kenma chose to give up his position as the successor and his disapproval whenever Kuroo showed his radical inclination. Regardless, he has sway over the family, and Kenma needs his support with his plan. He cannot show any weakness.

“We’re executing Plan D. Nekoma will go to ground.”

The declaration is met by surprise and disbelief. Of all orders Plan D is the last order Kenma is expected to give, because it is not a simple matter of staying quiet and under the radar. It is a complete withdrawal of Nekoma presence in the mafia world with the exception of the people and business to which their association to Nekoma are not known. It is an extreme measure that is meant for the direst situation.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” Hyou narrows his eyes at Kenma. “You are asking for all of our businesses to be closed down and stop operating. You are asking for a recall and reassignment of our people. You are asking for a major undertaking that is going to cost us the longer it is in motion.”

“Yes. I do know.” Kenma doesn’t back off, signaling his seriousness in the matter.

“Then why?” Naoi asks.

“They’ve gone this far to kill Kuroo. They won’t stop until he’s dead. The way he is now, Kuroo is an easy target. Any other course of action, any other plan, will put him at risk.”

“So you’re putting the safety of one person above the family?” Kuga Haruka--the second most influential person in the council--inquires, an elegant eyebrow raised.

Kenma can sense the rest of the family bristling around him, taking offense in the council member’s words, but it serves to center him instead. Finding his courage, Kenma straightens his spine and meets the gaze of every single person in the room.

“No. Because Kuroo is Nekoma, and Nekoma is Kuroo.”

The moment the words come out from his mouth, he realizes how true they are, and he is not the only one with how he stunned them speechless. It’s ironic, in his attempt to make Nekoma free and independent from inside and outside reliance, Kuroo becomes an irreplaceable figure himself. Nekoma will carry on without him, but it won’t be Nekoma anymore. Kuroo is not just Nekoma’s leader, he is their heart and soul. It is why the council was so against of having him as the successor to Nekomata, because Kuroo inspired steadfast love and devotion in the coldest and most rational of Nekoma. It was dangerous for Nekoma that placed mind above heart, rationality above intuition.

“Any objections for implementing Plan D?” Kuga asks the room at large.

And they are right. Because against all rational thought, none of them raise objections, not even Hyou himself. ithout a shred of doubt and hesitation, they all come to an agreement. The decision is unanimous.

“We shall proceed with Plan D. You have our full support.” Hyou concludes.

Kenma should feel relieved, but all he can feel is sadness.

Can’t you see how much you are loved, Kuro? Kenma clenches his hand, his gaze sharp and determined. Wake up, and we’ll show you.

#fanfic #fanfiction #khr au #nekoma #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #yaku morisuke #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#katekyou hitman reborn

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