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seikyoko · 4 years ago

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“Allen” is loved, in this essay I will

(This is about Allen’s bond with most characters, but the focus is on Mana, though the other bonds get talked about a lot as well)

I wonder how Allen learning that the earl is Mana/Mana did love him will be like

I can’t imagine it going in a fluffy direction because of well.. him being the earl and potentially bring about the end of the world and all that stuff, and Mana’s self-loathing for eating Nea is so intense he’ll flip out at being called Mana and all that. and I very much doubt they’ll go back to how it was, but I think he’ll remember, and it’ll be acknowledged that Mana did love Allen, it’s something Allen very much needs, whether to find peace, or to move on.

But DGM may be a tragedy, but I think it’s definitely not the “everything was pointless “SnK edgy kind of tragedy (Alma & Yuu for example, that was most definitely a tragedy and a pretty terrible one, but they found closure didn’t they ? They did spend that moments at Matel with their beloved and it was important for them, it was not pointless, even Lala after being broken, regains herself in her very last moments and thank Allen, so Lala and Guzoru’s promise was fulfilled, it was not pointless. It’s not a hopeless kind of story.)

I seriously doubt Allen (nor Mana) will get a happy fluffy ending (our best bet is a bittersweet ending), but this is important to him, Mana was always his most important and beloved person, he’s the first person who didn’t dehumanize him for his arm, Red didn’t have a single happy memory or a reason to go on before meeting “Allen”, but these three years at Mana’s side were truly happy ones, most probably the happiest period of his life (even despite his guilt at having hurt Mana), it was his reason of living, his reason to go on, the one thing he could never truly forget or abandon was his love for mana, his memories with him, his relationship with him and he was devastated when the possibility that Mana never loved him came up and Cross (who doesn’t know enough, as seen with the fact that he thinks “Allen” had no mask prior to Mana’s death ) basically confirmed it, if gently.

And Mana did love him back, it’s pretty clear from the 232-241 flashbacks that Mana had absolutely no idea that Red was Nea’s host (it’s even Red who approach him first, because of allen the dog’s death), they bonded because Red realized that Mana was crying inside and cried in his stead (and also for his own grief for Allen) and Mana was touched by that and tried to cheer up Allen afterwards, and also the whole conversation about Nea, the whole thing was extremely genuine, Mana say to Red that he wants to get out of the circus together, even before he receive brain damage and start confusing him and Allen, but in the latter interactions Mana is pretty sane, even in the confusion in the name remains and treats him as a human child, not a dog or something. Later on, Akuma!Mana say “I love you Allen” and not “Nea”, when Nea get awakened by Kanda, Mana’s eye/curse is the one to bring back Allen, and the fact that Allen’s name is called and that it worked will later be implied in the searching for AW arc to be the “bringing a loved one back from the dead by calling their name” that Johnny did for Allen, and it’s a thing that specifically works because of the “power of human bonds” and when you truly love that person, seeing as the millenium earl doesn’t do it himself.

in night 158, he wonders why he didn’t kill off Allen that night when Allen was a 10 yo, despite his existence being a nuisance and what was discussed here, like the fact that it was the earl’s left eye that opens in panic when Allen Walker get attacked, meaning it’s a Mana & Allen thing

The earl later rationalize it as being a reaction to the 14th within Allen, despite him having no idea (he spent the whole ark arc thinking it was just someone with the musician ability and not a host for Nea himself, and even thinks that it was Cross himself that was the musician, Allen only get attacked as someone associated with Cross), and he only learnt it when Nea said “good morning” to that Level 4, but yeah, a deep down part of him remember that it was Allen.

It’s also pretty clear that the one he thought of in the beginning is his son rather than Nea, because there’s a shift in attitude before and after learning that Allen Walker is the fourteenth host. You can see it in the fact that outside of the earl’s suit attempting to get rid of Mana’s attachment to Allen that night when Allen was beside Mana’s grave, he never showed much violence against the child. He go away after Allen exorcise akuma!Mana, he only send some level 1 after Allen in ch4 and go away, despite having stuff way more fearsome than level 1 and the earl himself being overpowered. and also in the ark arc (I’m too lazy to search for the chapters and images but he didn’t do much beside blocking allen’s attacks ), after “Allen” the fourteenth reveal ? He start choking him on sight, the whole intent of the MoK arc is getting Kanda to badly injure AW via innocence, and he was pretty scary (homicidal even) in that encounter when “Allen” was with Johnny, despite the earl wanting Nea back

It’s not an argument that he love “Allen” more than Nea, he clearly loves both very much (look at how devastated Mana was when he learned he killed Nea), but it makes sense that he’d go softer on what his subconscious thinks of as the disabled, extremly young and fragile child, and Nea who was strong enough to kill all the Noah except the earl and Road, and who the 3rd side think is strong enough to kill all the Noah this time around. But my point is not even subconsciously did the earl think of AW as Nea (at least before the fourteenth reveal in the phantom G arc)

So far, everything points to Mana getting killed for someone else’s agenda, the Noah (at least those who remember, and the others will probably too after remembering) want Mana to become the pillar even if it’s not stated how (likely how the innocence itself want to), the innocence want the heart to kill Mana, thus creating the pillar, the black order is basically either going for what the innocence wants to happen, or what the third side want to happen.

The 3rd side want Nea to kill Mana but in a way that won’t create the pillar, it should be kind of a happy ending, right ? but after “Allen” ‘s very soul getting taken over by Nea, they wants him to use “Allen” ‘s own body and hands to murder Mana, and Mana, uncomprehending, will watch as he is murdered by a loved one (whether the focus is only on Nea or if it’s also because the one murdering him has Allen’s appearance).

Allen’s not accepting any of these endings, so if it doesn’t end as the world getting destroyed (thus meaning everything all the exorcists and protagonists did was pointless) or Nea succeeding at erasing Allen and doing something “Allen” would never forgive himself for (implying everything Allen, Johnny and Kanda was pointless), I’m wondering what kind of ending will happen.

There isn’t much point to Mana being alive, having loved Allen and being the earl if his relationship with Allen doesn’t get acknowledged, even the “Mana only took on Red/’Allen’ because he was the host and never loved him/only saw Nea in him” absolutely doesn’t necessite Mana being the earl, Noah are random humans before suddenly awakening, so Nea being a Noah with a human sibling wasn’t weird.

Even with the Nea is one half of the earl plotline and the earl being too attached to Nea, you could have had the original earl split into three, with Mana being fully human (it wouldn’t even be weird, because the earl split unevenly, Nea had no Noah memory, and in Pandora Hearts, even though Alice and Alyss are twins, Alice was fully human and Alyss got all the mysterious powers).

So there must be a point to all that, authors don’t give pointless information like that, if it exists, then “Allen” is going to find out and react to the earl being Mana, and he’s going to want to learn how Mana felt about him, and even if at first the earl denies being Mana/having ever cared for Allen Walker, I think we all know what the real answer is, and it’s going to be acknowledged in-universe.

And boy does “Allen” need to hear that, he need to hear that.

Because yeah, “Allen” is someone loved and liked by many people, genuinely so and they’d still love him even if he was outwardly the rude ass bitch he secretly is deep inside (Kanda for example is pretty rude and impolite and is even asshole a lot of the time, but a lot of the people in the order and most of us readers love him).

While the politeness and Mana manners is something absolutely fake, the kindness isn’t, the stubborness isn’t, the compassion isn’t, the empathy isn’t, and even those less palatable traits of his are important and something his friends would still love. But the problem is that “Allen” doesn’t truly buy into it (and unlike other protagonists I don’t blame him)

As far as he remembers, Red was loved by nobody and he even thought love was something unattainable to him before that dog befriended him (and pretty much got killed off not long after), the first person to truly love him was Mana (even with Red’s guilt at causing brain damage to Mana and Mana confusing his name with the dog’s) and during his three years with him it’s pretty clear Mana treated him as a human child, so it’s not like he treated him as Allen the dog, and it was pretty clear Mana loved him a lot, even to the extremly distrustful Red/”Allen”, it was obvious, it was why Mana’s death devastated him so much. then Timcampy took a shine to him, Cross took him in, but towards all other people (except towards the earl who he only feels pure loathing against), he wore the mask of Mana.

From “Allen” ‘s point of view, they only liked the surface personality and would never have loved the rude, nasty, unlikeable Red who even caused brain damage to the first person to even care about him and ressurected his own dad as an agency-less machine to kill him. I’m pretty sure “Allen” think there’s no way anybody will ever love for real someone like him.

The exception being Allen the dog (dead and he feel guilty about it), Timcampy (probably on Nea’s side by virtue of being one of the musicians, and also died protecting him/Nea from Apocryphos), and Cross and Mana, “Allen” didn’t put his trust easily, but he thought at least those last two relationships were genuine (they were you moron), then Cross reveals that he took on “Allen” because he’s the host to the fourteenth and his goals necessite the erasure of “Allen” (true, he did take him on for that reason, but he did come to love “Allen” because the last words he left via Timothy are for “Allen” ‘s sake, saying if “Allen” doesn’t like his fate then his fate sure as hell isn’t going to end up like that, and to be himself and drop the mask Mana. It’s not something he’d have said if he didn’t personally care), and then come the suspicion that “Allen” ‘s beloved Mana most probably also only took him in because “Allen” was Nea’s host. When “Allen” ask this of Cross, the one who knew most about him and Mana, hoping him to deny it, Cross basically confirm it, if gently.

For “Allen”, there goes any hope of himself, his real self being liked, you can see his guard being extra up after that (it doesn’t help that Kanda, the one person in the order who wasn’t into the polite persona and that “Allen” wasn’t particularly polite with and even was sassy with started acting distant with him after the fourteenth reveal since how much “Allen” had left to live was not a lot, and also say some pretty hurtful things during PTSD episode), from the information he has, his fear that he’ll never truly be loved for who he is/he wasn’t destined to be loved is pretty much confirmed. And from reverse, we know his one wish above anything was to be loved.

Bizzarely, the one arc where “Allen” is feeling at his lowest, isolated and slowly getting taken over and after getting betrayed/exiled by the order, having an immortal overpowered Innocence after him and not in any position to make human connections, is the one where that belief is being/will be eroded.

In 222 we see that Cross care about “Allen”, he offer him comfort and say that he’d rather have wanted it be someone else who was the host and when faced with “Allen” ’s honest feelings despite it going against everything he did in many many years, he helps “Allen” in his goal to know the truth, and we see that the conversation helped “Allen” a lot other than the big clue to his goals, because his form was getting younger (probably indicating how his soul was slowly disappearing) and “Allen” was just panicking feeling hopeless, but when “Allen” say what he wanted to say, he stop his mental panicked flailing, regains his actual form, and it help him wait until Johnny say his name.

Honestly I’m pretty sure he is now perfectly aware that Johnny love him, he know how the calling for a dead beloved one’s soul works, it doesn’t work if the one doing the calling doesn’t truly love the person (otherwise the earl would say the name himself and just murder random people to put the akuma machine inside them), and “Allen” had just pratically MURDERED Johnny and Johnny’s reaction was “sorry I let my guard down” and then make the ultimate declaration of friendship, and you can see how “Allen” is touched and how badly he wanted to hear those words. When Allen try to distance himself for Johnny later on it’s not because he doubt that Johnny care about him, but because if Nea doesn’t murder the instant Allen get taken over for 2s, Apocryphos/The earl/The Noah family/honestly even the order (since the Johnny is now a traitor) will, and their reunion hug was so damn wholesome (that Tyki rudely interrupt),he’s also the one who didn’t know him as a kid who noticed that being impolite suited him much better and was glad about it and I’m going down with this friendship, heck they even had magic friendship bracelets that tase you ! other friendships could never.

(Honorable mention to Road and Tyki who also do care, even though they’re on opposite sides of a war and they were literally ordered to help Nea. And whether they wanted Nea back or wanted Nea gone for good, both endings result with the erasure or death of our “Allen”)

Heck even with a lot of the other people in the order they do love “Allen” quite a lot, and that despite the suspicion he’s someone who murdered Link to run away aided by the Noah (Lenalee saw that it was “Allen” in control when he used the ark so they know it’s not Nea), so if they love “Allen” despite that, they’d have loved the real and non polite “Allen” anyway despite his flaws. We know this because the science division was devastated and the exorcists minus the generals and Chaoji were devastated.

About Timcampy, he did take a shine to “Allen” quickly, the reason at the beginning was most probably Nea, but it’s hella clear that he grew to care about “Allen”, because when Kanda confront him about it, when he’s asked about if he’s truly on “Allen” ‘s side in this conflict, there should be no reason to feel conflicted about it if he only cared about “Allen” because he was the host and he reminded him of “Nea” so he won’t be sad at Nea taking over, right? But when Kanda bring it up he just burst into sad and quiet tears

Kanda is clumsy at communication (I love him) but I’m pretty damn certain it’ll sink in, they didn’t get a chance to properly talk until after “Allen” escaped via ark, but I’m pretty sure Kanda is getting to him, because

1)”Allen” opened up to him about the whole Apocryphos thing

2)he finally grieved for Tim’s death, although grief is something he forbade himself from feeling since Mana’s death

3)he got “Allen” to wait with him to reunite with Johnny and Tiedoll

4) he got “Allen” to talk about his past.

And it’s pretty clear from their interaction that he does care a lot, “Allen” you’re good at reading people I have faith in you, just accept people caring about you.

And depending on how well “Allen” remembers his backstory, he’s gonna state the obvious and go “well there’s your answer, of course he (Mana) loved you you braindead moron”, and he’s not gonna be impressed by “Allen” ‘s low self-worth.

This timing is making me certain about the conclusion

After the events of his backstory, he’d have never reacted well to the fact that the earl is Mana (he isn’t going to react well in this either but I mean way more bad), he’d never have accepted that the earl/mana did love him. But after “Allen” out of pure self-loathing take on the mask of Mana, basically deciding that “Allen” himself will never be loved, and/or that he doesn’t deserve to be. and only trust on the love Mana (and Cross, kinda, as well as Tim and Allen the dog) had for him, he does make other friends and people he likes, but that’s tainted by the mask of Mana and the fact that he’s never genuine, bringing into doubt whether they’d like the real him. But evidence that they care about him would never have been enough, because “Allen” was never going to be completely genuine and let his guard down, or he’d have thought he didn’t deserve it/it wasn’t real. then come the fourteenth reveal, even the little hopes he had get shattered (some of the best character developpement happen when charas are cornered enough), in the end, Mana never loved him, Cross never cared about him, and if these two who really knew him didn’t probably the rest too.

Then comes the Mystery of Kanda arc, the exact flaws “Allen” loathe himself for are present in Kanda.

Kanda Yuu is a hell gremlin child who is rude and impolite and cynical and an absolute asshole, and just like Red kicked Allen the dog hard for befriending him Yuu was violent towards Alma’s attempt to befriend him, just like Red tried his hardest to kill Mana inducing brain damage in a trauma response, Kanda decided to murder akuma!Alma because of his ptsd because boy he wasn’t alright after seeing what happened to Alma’s body. Just like “Allen” murdered Mana again in self-defense after he became an akuma, Yuu did the same when Alma tried to murder him after murdering all the scientists.

I don’t think he had the time to process that because he was busy not letting “Nea” take over, getting interrogated, trying to not grieve Kanda’s supposed death, but he can’t go on anymore in thinking that he doesn’t deserve and shouldn’t be loved because of those specific crimes against Mana, because he’ll punch in the throat anyone who says that about Kanda, and another important thing is Kanda was loved anyway, by Alma even (who act as the Mana parallel ), by “Allen”, Marie, and plenty of people in the order (Tiedoll, Lenalee, etc etc etc).

Woah only now do I realize how important “Allen” getting caught by Wisely’s eye thing was for his development. (He’s gonna realize that and drop the masks of Allen, and the mask of Mana, he’s kinda already doing it, his attitude (his speech when escaping via ark in Tiedoll’s carriage is even pretty casual, though the translator didn’t say whether that was the case with the interactions after) is not anything like his attitude at the beginning at the series). Then he get driven into a corner and the searching for AW happens, and his belief that people don’t love the real “Allen” get eroded, his belief that he doesn’t deserve to be loved get eroded, the only reason he still push people Kanda and Johnny away is because uh well people staying beside him are likely to get killed for it. Since he’s telling it to Kanda, he’s gonna have to think about his past for real while he does, not for reasons to self-loathe, not to remind himself to keep walking or anything like that.

Him coming to accept people and opening up is happening in that arc is kinda at a timing, where either he’ll realize it from sharing his backstory if his memories are precise enough, or where he’ll learn Mana is the earl (whether because Katarina will tell them that or because they’ll meet the earl on the way, who knows) and stuff will happen and he’s gonna get evidence that that bond was real

“Allen” ‘s gonna have to accept that Mana truly did love him, and by him I mean the child with a red arm that was the chore boy at that circus and that he later adopted, and when he(mana) was talking to him and saying he loved him (”Allen”), he wasn’t referring to Allen the dog, he wasn’t referring to Nea (though he did love those two others), he was referring to his actual son. And “Allen” doesn’t have the excuses he had earlier to not fully accept it, and believe into it properly this time, without guilt or “but”s or anything like that, and whether he does that before, or after learning that Mana is the earl, he’s gonna learn that either way, the way this story is going, and they’re gonna have a talk

and I don’t think for a second that despite everything about the earl subconsciously remembering it and that hampering his decisions thus meaning he still cared about his son, they’ll never get to talk about it, it doesn’t have to be a peaceful talk or one with a happy conclusion, but he’ll remember it

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a-d-curtis · 3 years ago

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The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Read on AO3 or Fanfiction.net

Chapter 1: Prologue, Chapter 2: First Impressions, Chapter 3: Stolen Glory, Chapter 4: Pawns & Princesses, Chapter 5: Scars, Chapter 6:Dissonance, Chapter 7: Frustrated, Chapter 8: Obligations, Chapter 9: Private Affair, Chapter 10: Holding on Tight, Chapter 11: Calculated Risks, Chapter 12: Charged, Chapter 13: Blue, Chapter 14: Bonds, Chapter 15: Betrayal, Chapter 16: Repercussions

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Chapter 17: The Truth

…………….

Aang dropped into the darkened kitchen silently. The window on this side was always conveniently left open, a gesture he liked to think Cook Kanda did on purpose just for him.

Aang stood up gingerly. It had only been a few days since his ‘re-education,’ and even though Physician Yoroh’s stitches were always immaculate and his burn salve always helped Aang to heal quickly, his back was still terribly tender. This was one of the reasons he couldn’t seem to sleep tonight.

One of the reasons.

So rather than simply lying prone and sleepless in bed with his mind circling endlessly between loneliness, heartache, and dread over his rapidly approaching wedding, Aang decided to seek a distraction. And since it had been a while since Aang had visited the kitchens, he decided to leave a small thank you for Cook Kanda for the dishes he’d prepared recently.

Every night this week familiar foods reminiscent of Aang’s childhood had been served as side dishes at ‘Family Dinner.’ He could never be sure, given that Aang had never actually met the cook, but Aang was pretty sure that a few years ago Cook Kanda had somehow gotten his hands on a handful of Air Nomad recipes. Over the years he had discretely integrated some of them into his menus. The recent lotus root had been new; one that tasted like an air temple potluck.

Perhaps Cook Kanda had known that Aang was miserable this week, and the special dishes were his way of trying to help.

Or maybe Aang was just very good at seeing goodness where it didn’t actually exist.

Aang smiled bittersweetly to himself. Given that he’d never talked with Cook Kanda, he was free to imagine all sorts of hidden kindnesses, whether they were really there or not. But Aang didn’t concern himself too much with analyzing. If he could choose to see kindness, then he would choose to see it. It hurt no one, but gave him a small boost, so Aang chose to see the cook as a friend, and his food as an act of goodwill.

Aang walked quietly and pulled a small cup from the shelf, bending some water into it. He then placed the blooming red fire-lily he’d picked from the courtyard into the water. His gifts for the cook were always like this: small and meaningful to him personally, but never anything that could be construed as a bribe. He knew contact with him had been dangerous for some servants in the past, so he was always careful not to endanger his friend the cook.

As Aang set the flower on the counter, he noticed a small bowl with a round mooncake inside. The sight coaxed the corner of Aang’s mouth to flash upward—the action feeling strange, like his mouth had forgotten how to smile—Cook Kanda must have anticipated he would come tonight. Aang picked up the mooncake and examined it in the light from the window. Mooncakes always had designs pressed into the tops of them. This one had a lotus flower. Aang took a bite, enjoying the saltiness of the boiled egg-yolk center.

However, after two chews he realized he had something else in his mouth. Aang pulled out a small rolled up strip of paper. He unrolled it and in tiny print was written a single four-character idiom: “A window always opens” — at the bottom was another drawn lotus flower.

Aang looked at the open window, his way in and out of the kitchen, and emotion caught in his throat. Of course he had no way of knowing what Cook Kanda meant by the idiom, but to Aang it felt like the cook was trying to tell him that he always had a choice.

Aang didn’t believe that was true—not for him at least—but he contemplated how different his life would be if it was.

Pocketing the note, and popping the rest of the mooncake into his mouth, Aang left through the open window.

…………….

Katara tried not to stare when the Avatar removed his shirt in preparation to wade into the ocean.

The sight of him bare-chested and beautiful caught her breath and startled butterflies into frantic flight in her stomach.

But the moment didn’t last. Aang turned to place his shirt on a large boulder on the beach, turning his bare back towards her in the process. The sight caused all the butterflies to collapse, falling dead instantly, replaced instead with a familiar and endlessly sinking guilt.

Katara had known. But she hadn’t seen.

She looked away from the tapestry of crisscrossed half-healed burns on Aang’s back, blinking quickly to keep her tears at bay.

It had been a week since Aang had saved her life, catching arrows out of the air and offering to break her free. It had been a week since she had in turn stabbed him in the back with a tranquilizer dart to save her brother’s life. A week since Aang had been whipped senseless.

And it had now been a whole week since Aang had looked at her with anything but cold detachment.

Needless to say, it had been a long week.

The first time Katara had seen Aang after that day, she had met him in his training arena as normal. But nothing had felt normal. Gone were Aang’s sunny smiles. His playful jokes. It was as though Aang were a completely different person, someone she didn’t know.

For days the two of them had worked side-by-side, and yet, despite their close proximity, it had felt as though there was a gaping chasm between them. Aang mastered everything she taught him with absurd ease, even amidst his winces from the way the movements pulled on his injured back.

Early on, Katara had offered to heal him, desperately wanting to take away his pain.

“Aang, please!” she’d said quietly to him. “Let me heal you.”

“Thank you for your concern, Master Katara,” he had replied with a bow and a quick glance up at the balcony above them. “But no. I don’t require your assistance.”

Aang had been avoiding eye contact with her, always keeping his gaze down or off to the side. But in that moment he’d finally looked at her, and Katara’s breath had caught in her chest. His grey eyes had been hard, holding no warmth for her anymore.

“And you will remember yourself,” Aang had continued, his demeanor every bit a Prince. “And address me as Avatar Aang.”

So this was Avatar Aang. The Firelord’s son. The mask he wore for everyone else.

Emotion had swelled in Katara’s throat. She’d been able to do little more than nod numbly. She hadn’t realized the privilege she’d once had, to know Aang without his Title.

Their lessons had proceeded with formality, an artificial detachment, Aang making ever astounding progress. Princess Azula had observed for a while, until at some point she’d decided she was satisfied with what she’d seen, and left them. Katara remembered the princess’s red lips smiling down on her with triumph. She’d won. And they both knew it.

But that didn’t mean that Katara had given up. Quite the contrary. The more time she spent with this Aang—this horrible, contrived, shadow of Aang!—the more intolerable she found it.

She knew what was at stake in what she was about to do. But she also knew she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t do something, didn’t say something. Before it was too late. She was ready to lay out all her cards, to gamble it all.

Which is why she was here now. At the beach. With Aang.

A feat that had not been easy to arrange.

“Absolutely not!” Counselor Zhao had stated flatly. “The Avatar trains in his training arena, and no where else!”

“You want him to become a Waterbending Master, do you not?!” Katara had shot back. “Well how do you expect him to become one with only a few troughs of stagnant water to work with? The Avatar needs to bend the ocean. The ocean has a mind of its own, a will of its own. I need to teach him to bend that will or he’ll never be a master!”

Katara looked around her now. At the archers pacing the beach behind them, as well as along the rock outcroppings bracketing this little bay. At least a dozen other soldiers stood guard as well, their eyes shrouded behind firebender helmets. Zhao himself stood begrudgingly a ways up the sand, his arms crossed disapprovingly with his obnoxious cape snapping in the ocean wind. Because it served his own purposes, Zhao had given in to her request, but clearly he didn’t trust her.

Perhaps he was smarter than she gave him credit for.

Katara ignored them all and turned her face calmly toward the ocean. Smiling she closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air, enjoying the breeze blowing her hair. This felt almost like home, despite the heat. She had already removed her outer tunic, and the caress of the sun on her skin felt glorious. She could feel the power of the ocean, a friend she had spent most of her life growing up beside. She heard the waves, felt them lap rhythmically up and down the beach and up to her bare feet.

Katara felt safe here, despite the soldiers. She felt the freedom of knowing she could walk right now into the ocean’s waves and take herself safely away from here forever.

That wasn’t what she had planned—and of course, Zhao still held Sokka’s life as ransom to help her control her impulses—but it was liberating nonetheless just knowing that she could.

Katara opened her eyes and turned back toward Aang. He’d been watching her, a look of open longing in his face. But when their eyes met, he ducked his head quickly, trying to hide the vibrant blush that climbed up his cheeks. It was a small thing. But this little slip of Aang’s mask sent those same frantic butterflies scattering again inside Katara’s stomach. Her Aang was still in there somewhere. And the reminder of that solidified her resolve even more.

It was long past time she did this.

“Avatar Aang,” she called in her best teacher’s voice. “Come here. We will push and pull the waves together.”

Aang stepped up beside her, matching her movements. This was simple enough, similar to moves they had done in the past. But the ocean was its own creature, with waves of its own already in motion.

“Feel the push and pull of the waves. Move with them. Add to them. But don’t fight them. Use their movement to redirect the water as you will.”

“Redirection,” Aang said absently. “Like Master Pakku always said.”

Katara tried not to think of her old master. Of his execution. She hoped that she wouldn’t be following in his footsteps by what she was about to do today. Even though she knew that the probability was high.

She tried not to think of the risks. To herself. To Sokka. Because she had to do this!

Initially the two of them just pushed and pulled, following the ocean’s lead. Then silently, Katara pulled the water laterally, causing the next wave to move sideways in a ripple from one side of the small bay to the other.

Having watched closely, on the next wave Aang pulled back the other way, causing the waves to roll back the way they’d come. He didn’t smile, but Katara could see the small measure of delight in his eyes as he watched the water travel sequentially along the beach, like a finger gliding over harp strings.

Katara smiled when a Yuyuan archer jumped backward on the rocky outcrop to their side, the splashing water having wetted his uniform. She thought of how easy it would be to command the water to sweep the man deep into the ocean. The terror from a week ago, of arrows nearly ending her life was still fresh, so it took far more self-control than they would ever know for her to simply leave the man with no more harm that a bit of wet clothing.

But revenge was not her purpose today.

She turned her attention to pulling the ocean towards her; Aang quickly followed suit. The two of them stood, shifting their weight and their arms—forward… and back… forward… and back—gradually pulling the water further up the beach, submerging themselves up to their knees. Katara glanced backward, noticing that the guards all took a few steps backward, wanting to keep their feet dry.

Katara returned her attention to the ocean and coaxed it even further upward, Aang, again, following her lead. Soon they were both up to their waist in water when the waves were highest on the beach. The guards stepped even further back, most no longer even on the sand, but taking refuge on the grassy patches above the tideline. Katara smiled, appreciating the wide arc of “harmless solitude” this gave her with the Avatar.

This time as the water rose past above their navels, Katara flicked her hand playfully, sending a spray of water directly into Aang’s face. He had been so serious, so focused, that the attack took him completely by surprise. His startled confusion as he sputtered made Katara laugh out loud. And in a moment of unguarded surprise he turned to her and laughed too. Seeing Aang’s smile again was so beautiful it almost hurt. Caught up in the game, he sent a retaliating spray her way. But she was ready, and redirected the stream of water around her body and back at Aang. He dodged and laughed triumphantly as he watched it go past his shoulder. But when his head turned smugly back towards her, he got another face full of water.

“Uh-uh,” she teased. “Never turn your back on a waterbender!”

Aang sobered immediately, his smile vanishing so thoroughly she wondered if she’d only imagined its reappearance. “Oh you’ve taught me that one before.”

His words felt like a sucker-punch to the gut, the old familiar guilt hitting her full force.

But instead of shutting her down, the words made Katara angry, her resolve to “enlighten the Avatar” now solid as steel.

“Listen,” Katara replied, a defensive bite in her tone, “At the time, I had no choice—”

“What happened to ‘you always have a choice!’?” Aang’s retort was quick and bitter.

Katara’s jaw clenched. “Follow me,” she commanded, swimming into the oncoming wave. “I have something to ‘teach’ you.”

“Not too far!” she heard Zhao call obnoxiously from his place standing way back on a high grassy patch beyond the beach, clearly averse to getting his feet wet. But Katara ignored him.

Today she would do as she pleased.

Katara rocketed through the water, commanding the ocean to take her where she willed. Her head and shoulders reemerged from the water again in the middle of the bay. A moment later, Aang’s head popped up next to her. The two of them bobbed silently up and down on the waves. Aang looked at her, his arms and legs moving to keep him afloat as he awaited her instruction.

For a moment Katara thought of all the time she’d spent with Aang. All the chances she’d had to tell him the truth. And how she never had. With his wedding celebrations beginning tomorrow, Katara knew she was simply out of time. She had to play her hand now, or she would never get the chance. Part of her argued that it wasn’t her responsibility, that she shouldn’t risk her life to enlighten him. But she knew that wasn’t right. It was a crime not to tell him. If she didn’t tell him now, when she could, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life. No matter the consequences, Katara cared enough about Aang to risk it all, including her brother’s life, to tell him the truth.

Katara didn’t know a graceful way to lead into something like this, so she finally just plowed into what she had to say.

“They’ve been lying to you, Aang.”

Aang’s brows pulled down briefly. He looked backward toward the beach, then at the flanking archers on the outcroppings to their sides. All of them were far too far away to hear what they said here. Aang looked back at Katara warily. “Who? Who has been lying to me?”

“All of them,” Katara said flatly, anger building in her gut. “The Firelord, the Princess, Counselor Zhao, your teachers. All of them.”

Aang’s head angled slightly away from her suspiciously. “About what?”

Where to start?! Katara bit her lower lip, a sudden emotion making her fight back tears. “Everything. They’ve lied to you about everything, Aang.”

Aang’s brow lowered again.

Katara’s mind couldn’t help but call up memories of Zuko. Of the time it had taken to help him to see, to help him to un-learn the lies he was taught in his youth. That had taken years, and Zuko had known far more about the state of the world than Aang. How would she ever convince him?

But she had to start somewhere. “The world is at war right now, Aang.”

Aang’s eyebrow raised in question. “Are you talking about the Rebellion?”

Katara was surprised; she hadn’t thought that Aang knew anything at all about the war.“What do you know about the Rebellion?” she asked.

“Not a lot,” Aang admitted. “But Firelord Ozai told me about them. That they are a group of troublemakers banded together to stir up violence in the Earth Kingdom. He said that… that his banished son is leading them… that Zuko wants to start an uprising to steal his father’s throne…”

Katara swallowed thickly when she thought of Zuko. Of how she had left things with him. Apprehension began to build steadily within her. “It’s not like that…” she said quietly.

Aang spoke again, “The Firelord is sending me to the Earth Kingdom after…” Aang hesitated on the next words, “my wedding. He wants me to go and…” But he didn’t finish, his eyes wandered off unfocusing, his words left hanging.

Go and what? Panic began to gallop inside her as she filled in the blanks in Aang’s unfinished sentence. Her pulse began to race and her ears began to ring loudly in fear for the Rebellion, for Zuko. This couldn’t be happening!

“Go and do what, Aang?” Katara demanded her mouth suddenly dry.

Aang’s eyes refocused, darkening. “To do some bending,” he answered cryptically, his voice full of scathing irony. “My favorite kind.”

Katara’s heart beat wildly. No. No, no no… he needed to stay here where it was safe! Because that would keep Zuko safe too. Keep them both safe. She couldn’t let them kill each other!

“No!” she heard herself saying. “You can’t go, Aang!”

Aang laughed at her. Not his merry chiming laugh, but a harsh cynical sound. “You think I have a choice about that?! About anything?!”

Katara could hear a commotion starting up on the beach. Zhao was yelling and beckoning for them to return. Katara’s eyes honed in on the archers closest to them on the peninsulas flanking the bay; their bows were already strung taut.

“Curse them!” Katara said to herself. She wasn’t finished yet!

Katara brought her arms up in a great swirling motion, pulling the ocean up and over her and Aang, the action trapping a bubble of air around their heads and shoulders. Then she pushed her palms downward, sinking the bubble—and her and Aang with it—deeper into the ocean beneath them. Here they would be safe from the guards with their arrows and fire.

“Katara what are you doing?!” Aang protested, his voice echoing strangely around the water walls of their little bubble.

Katara turned to face him, momentarily startled by how close he was to her, their air bubble not leaving a lot of room for keeping distance. The space was dim—only a portion of the sun’s light reaching them through the water—making it feel all the more close, all the more intimate.

Katara could see worry in Aang’s eyes, confusion. She knew she didn’t have a lot of time! So she spoke quickly.

“The Firelord has been lying to you. The Rebellion isn’t 'stirring up violence’—it’s trying to restore freedom to the Earth Kingdom! To all the nations that the Fire Nation has ruthlessly taken over!”

“What are you talking about? The Fire Nation hasn’t—”

“Yes it has, Aang! The Fire Nation has been at war with the rest of the world for a hundred years!”

“What?” Aang’s eyes crinkled in skeptical disbelief. “What are you talking about? A hundred years of war? That’s absurd!” But Katara noticed how Aang’s eyes darted to the side quickly.

Doubt…

“It’s true!” Katara affirmed, “The Firelord didn’t take you in to make you his son. He did it to make you his weapon!”

Aang was shaking his head. “The Firelord rescued me. Bringing me into his home was an act of mercy.”

Hot anger flared inside of Katara at the lie! She growled and pulled her arms sharply towards herself making an X across her chest. The motion pulled a slap of salty seawater hard against Aang’s still healing back. Aang stifled a cry, sucking in air painfully though his teeth. He grimaced and blinked upward, fighting to get his pain under control.

“You think that is mercy?! Fathers don’t whip their sons out of mercy!” Katara bit out angrily, her words magnified in the enclosed space. “Merciful fathers don’t banish and burn their sons either! Do you even know what Ozai did to Zuko?!”

Aang’s eyes darted across the surface of the water lapping at their necks. He looked overwhelmed. Confused. He winced again.

Immediately compassion swelled inside Katara, and she felt bad for hurting him. She knew this wasn’t his fault.

“Please, Aang,” Katara’s voice softened. Their bodies were close, brushing past one another as they tread water. Impulsively she reached out and brought her hand around the back of Aang’s neck, pulling him toward her. Keeping her fingers at the nape of Aang’s neck, she gently stroked his face with her thumb. Aang closed his eyes and leaned ever so slightly into her touch. Gently she tipped her head towards him and rested their foreheads together. She could see water beaded on his dark eyelashes. “You have to believe me, Aang.”

Aang leaned into her for a moment, their breaths mingling. When he drew his head back, his eyes were dark and intense—piercing her as they searched her face. His eyes were so uncertain, so vulnerable.

But cold indifference soon slid over them like a film, his mask slipping back into place as he pushed himself away from her.

“Why should I believe you?”

Katara’s heart dropped. For a moment she’d had him back, the real Aang. The return of his mask made her mad.

“Because I’m telling the truth, Aang!”

“Avatar Aan—“

“Shut up!” she cut him off. “I’m not telling ‘the Avatar’ this! I’m telling you! I’m telling Aang.”

Aang watched her silently.

“I’m telling you because I care about you. And you deserve to know what happened. What really happened. To you. To the world. To the other Air Nomads!”

“The Air Nomads are dead, Katara!” Aang’s tone was surprisingly defensive. “They died in a plague, a hundred years ago. I’m the last airbender, remember?! Because I do! Every. Single. Day. I remember.” The ache in his voice could have broken her in half.

Katara loathed to add to his grief—so for a brief moment she hesitated—but the truth deserved to be known.

“You’re not the last airbender because of a plague, Aang. You’re the last airbender because the Fire Nation killed all the other airbenders.”

The shock on Aang’s face was sudden, like her words had slapped him across the face. His brow then furrowed briefly. A slight wince. “What, why would the Fire Nation—? Why would anyone—? The Air Nomads were peaceful…”

Katara watched in dismay as Aang began to shake his head in disbelief, his breathing becoming labored. “No. No. That’s a lie,” he whispered. But his breaths came faster, distressed. Katara could see his hands rubbing frantically over his arms under the water, making it harder for him to stay afloat.

Aang suddenly looked up as her, accusation in his eyes. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of the Rebellion! That’s why you’re a prisoner here, isn’t it?”

She was silent. But her non-answer was confirmation enough for Aang. “You’re working for them. Trying to manipulate me!”

“It’s not what you think, Aang,” Katara said softly, bringing her hands up in front of her, trying to calm him.

“Why should I even trust you? You’ve lied to me before!”

Katara was brought up short, indignation filling her. “No, I haven’t! You’ve asked some questions I’ve refused to answer, but I’ve never lied to you.”

“Oh yeah?” Aang asked with scathing sarcasm. “How about this one: ‘I love you, Aang’?”

Katara felt like she’d been punched. Because those words had been as truthful as any she’d ever spoken. They were still truthful, even now. Even though they hurt. “You don’t understand, Aang. The other day, in the arena, I didn’t mean to—“

“Didn’t mean to what?!” Aang cut her off. “Didn’t mean to stab me in the back? As preposterous as it sounds, I might have even believed you if you told me you’d somehow done it by accident—because I am just that dumb, that gullible, and that in love—“ his voice broke, “but even I’m not stupid enough to believe that you stabbed me twice by accident.”

Katara knew she was losing; how could she make him understand?! “It wasn’t what you think! I was trying to protect my brother—“

“You’re lying to me!” Aang blurted, looking around in a frenzy, like a trapped animal desperate to escape. Aang was fully hyperventilating now, thrashing around looking for a way out as though he’d forgotten he could waterbend. Both his hands clutched into his hair and a sudden white light flashed from the tattoos on his hands, his forehead, the light blinding in their dim underwater bubble! Aang groaned and the light went out. But a second later it flashed again.

“Lies!” he growled, his voice inhuman, thundering in their small space like a hundred souls speaking as one!

Fear gripped Katara.

Aang thrashed, trying to fight it. Katara tried to reach for him, to calm him, but he jerked backward out of her grip and right out of the air bubble. Katara gasped, watching his tattoos flashing. Sinking!

“Aang!” she yelled, reaching down to him, but grasping nothing. In her panic, she lost control of the bubble she’d been bending; great sloshes of water choked her before she pushed the water back again. “Aang!”

And then the water exploded! A great volcano of seawater shot skyward in a tremendous eruption! So much water was displaced all at once, that Katara fell startled on her backside on the muddy bottom of the bay. She looked up to see water rising skyward in an enormous, towering surge! Her eye latched onto a bright light—Aang!—glowing and throwing the sea to the sides as he stalked angrily out of the bay!

But the light of his tattoos flickered, and he stumbled to one knee. Without warning the water came crashing back in on them both! Katara’s body tumbled and turned violently in the water, but she barely had time to register what was happening before the water was gone again, and she fell back to the ground on her hands and knees. She coughed and looked to see Aang once again walking towards shore, his hands out to the sides holding the entire bay’s worth of ocean back, parted like a narrow, watery canyon. But this time, his tattoos were blue.

“Aang!” Katara sputtered, lifting herself to run after him. This had been her one chance! “Aang, please stop!”

But Aang’s red-striped back continued to stalk unheedingly away from her.

Once on the beach, Aang released his arms, and the walls of water flanking Katara suddenly began to crash back together, starting behind her and moving toward the beach. Katara was caught in the resulting crash, the momentum of the parted walls of water coming back together thrusting her forward and onto the shore in a great crashing wave.

Katara hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of her. She coughed seawater from her mouth and lifted her face from the sand. “Aang!” she tried to call, but it came out as a sputtering cough instead.

She caught a final glimpse of Aang’s angry form storming away. Zhao protested, yelling to him, but Aang flatly ignored him and continued to march back the way they had come, towards the palace.

Zhao frantically ordered a dozen guards to follow the Avatar, his words garbled in Katara’s water-logged ears.

Katara dropped her forehead back on the sand, catching her breath. Damn it! That had been her one chance! But Aang had not believed her. Misery welled up in Katara’s core, because she knew that at one time he would have believed her. But not now. He no longer trusted her—a reality that stung painfully.

The point of an upturned boot stepped squarely into her view. “My, my,” Zhao’s grating voice drawled. “That was quite the spectacle. Some truly impressive bending, I must say.”

Katara grit her teeth, fighting the urge to soak Zhao.

"It would appear that the student has now become the master, wouldn’t you agree, Master Katara?”

Katara’s heart sank, knowing that she had failed today. The game was over. She had gambled and she had lost. And she was now all out of cards.

Zhao’s voice gloated above her, “After what I’ve just witnessed I’m confident in saying that the Avatar is now a full Waterbending Master! And just in time. The Firelord will be so pleased.”

Dread filled her as she remembered what Aang had told her—that he would be going to the Earth Kingdom soon, to go after Zuko and the Rebellion! And Katara knew there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Not only could she not stop him, she had armed him, with waterbending.

The words from Zhao’s tongue cut her like a lash.

“The Fire Nation commends you, Master Katara. Thanks to you, the Avatar will now be unstoppable.”

………………..

Read the Next Chapter

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#Prince Aang #The Hand That Rocks the Cradle #alta au #fire nation royal family #kataang #aged up characters #aang #katara #Avatar The Last Airbender

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yoakkemae · 2 years ago

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kanda scoffs at the remark , even though he has certainly come close to this life ending as well since they last saw each other. ( he's still not sure how or why he was still alive. he should have followed alma , last time and this time. he should have , but ... ). he's not surprised to see her in this small town , sitting on this bench , looking as if she both belongs and yet does not belong. ( it's the same as how kanda feels at times -- so far from others' planes of existence. even surrounded by people as trapped with the order as the other exorcists ... he's never felt like he's belonged. there's been only two people that he's felt that way before , and both are now with him , even if one is only in his soul. ).

' ... i owe a debt. ' blinded by his hatred towards the order , he made no mention of what he'd noticed so long ago. plus , walker had helped alma rest. despite the fact that he'd be chaining himself to the monsters that made his and alma's lives a living hell ... he could do nothing else , nothing less. he owes walker more than the other could ever imagine , and he can't die until he pays off that debt. ' and you ? '

▸▸ [ @yoakkemae || moved from legacy ]

|| 昨夜 || :: despite how the BLACK WARRIOR didn't admit it out loud, his presence proved itself to be one that rooted her to earth and reminded her of the passage of TIME itself. he was an anchor holding her sane in the world littered with blood and wars. humans or not, living beings cling to those who made them feel alive and gave them a reason to go on with each passing day. it's a wonder if he realized just how much his appearance and existence meant to her. ah, she was getting sentimental. he'd scold her if he knew.

" still alive, i see. " corners of her lips tugged up into a subtle grin, and what laced her voice despite the syllables was nothing short of relief and delight. the GENBU was never the type to be verbal with her affection and care, but she knew that he would get what she meant by the statement alone. " what would you do next ? " the inquiry was posed almost casually, but both of them were well aware of the underlying message she included and how it was majorly out concern for the person next to her. after EVERYTHING, after the revelation, after the clash. the aftermath of it all. what is his decision ?

#aestuavis #tbt.#if i remember correctly this is pre-k//anda choosing to go back to the order #while he's still roaming around after a//lma's death #anyway yes i got k//anda muse from the latest chapter so YAY reply after like FIVE MONTHS

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redxblueihateloveyou · 4 years ago

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I'm curious what you think the worst shipping dynamic is? And the reasoning behind it if you have any.

Thank you so much!!!

haha I do have several of those actually. I’ll include both what I think are the worst dynamics and the kind of ships that “I just don’t get why would you ship smth like that”.

1. What I actually call “a mom and a manchild”.

examples: Hatori/Chiaki from “Sekaichi Hatsukoi”, Ikuya/Hiyori.

I guess, technically there’s nothing wrong with this, if they both enjoy being this way, but firstly I just hate adults behaving like infants and I don’t think encouraging such behavior can lead to anything good, and secondly watching this just makes me uncomfortable for many reasons. And moments like when Hyori came up to Ikuya when he talked to Haru and was like “it’s too late and you can’t talk to this man, time to go home” and Ikuya went I just cracked up at this. Also when one part is basically changes the other’s part diapers, but in return gets tantrums or basically nothing or “but I wanna play with someone else tho”, it’s just a kink I do not get, like why would you want to be treated like this is beyond me.

But then I also generally dislike infantile characters, and I can’t ship smth if I don’t like both parties, so maybe bc of this. I always like the mature characters. Like even when I do know in theory that a 13 year old in reality can’t behave like Todoroki, I’m still like, I don’t fucking care, that’s the one I like xD But when 20 years old Ikuya behaves like this, I just do not appreciate it, I guess.

2. “I don’t have an identity, my identity is you or what you want me to be” category, including “my dignity flew out of the window” ones and “I just do what you do”. (I CANNOT HANDLE THIS DYNAMIC, YOU KNOW I CAN’T!!!!!!! I DO NOT WHY, BUT IT’S JUST PISSING ME OFF THE MOST OF ALL PROBABLY)

examples: Eren/Mikasa, Haru/Makoto, Natsusa/Sei from “Number24″.

Sports animes do that a lot. “The only reason I played rugby is because you played it” is a major cringe. And no, it’s not romantic. Romantic is like when you’re both passionate about this and doing this sports together makes it even better/more meaningful, that I get. Not, “I only went there bc you like it” and I’ll have what you have, I’ll do what you do. Like.. huh? You firstly a person, as in fully formed one pls, you can’t exist as someone’s trail.

Those ships always contain this one person (like Mikasa, Makoto), who are just the accessory of the other character. Mikasa’s problem is not the ackerbond, it’s her life position, she herself chosen to be Eren’s doormat. And some also find this romantic, I think, but I just hate such things. Also the truth of life: if you don’t respect yourself, your crush won’t respect you either. Just saying.

Makoto, I sincerely think, if Kisumi would be his neighbour instead of Haru, he’d be playing basketball at school lmao. Like SD has so many of absolutely terrible scenes, where Makoto just for real turns to Haru and goes “do you think I should go to the basketball club if we’re not swimming?” like dude, I’m... he’s like a walking definition of “meh” if there ever existed one. How can you do not care what you do? Like at all. This is beyond me. That’s sad. Watching him makes me sad.

I just need both characters in a ship be you know THEM, fantastic on their own, then when they’re together they become an absolutely explosive magic. It’s just a true fact.

Also there is one ship who is not quite this category, but kinda touches this theme. Ciel and Lizzy from “Kuroshitsuji”, ike the original Ciel, for whom she wanted to pretend to be a dumb damsel in distress for the rest of her life. Like fucking seriously????? You’d live like this????!!!! Fucking hell, you must really don’t love yourself like at all.

3. Humiliation isn’t my kink.

examples: Dazai/Akutagawa, Midoriya/Bakugou.

Akutagawa and Midoriya are badass motherfuckers and also wonderful human beings on their own. When they encounter Dazai and Bakugou they become sheeps. I hate seeing them like that, that’s basically it. Also humiliation is really not my kink. The whole “treat him like crap” thing. Like some things they did to them is just.. my god, I don’t like it.

Like when Dazai asked Atsushi to throw the phone moment, I literally flinched so hard watching it, I can’t even explain this feeling between the dejection and utter disgust at the fact that Dazai did it, that I felt watching it, but I fucking hated it.

4. Those who bring out the worst in each other or don’t bring out anything in each other.

All my ships literally all with no exceptions make each other the best versions of themselves, push/challenge each other to become better/brighter/happier, etc., or add to each other that piece the other was missing.

If someone makes someone feel depressed, miserable or even just simply stuck in a rut, that’s probably not it. There are some ships who just simply can’t make each other happy or even make each other unhappy and that’s a fact.

5. Ships with no development or development so tiny that you need 120 episodes and an magnifying glass to see it.

examples: I’d say, but I just don’t want those 10 year olds in my ask box again.

Hate this for obvious reasons. Because as wise ppl say “only fools don’t grow” or "if we don't change, we don't grow. if we don't grow, we aren't really living."

6. Those who are like brothers to each other and said so and don’t emmit any and I mean ANY sexual vibes or attraction in that kind of way towards each other.

examples: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley (like THE FUCK seriously), Stiles/Scott from “Teen Wolf”, Keith/Shiro.

I just cannot imagine them being romantically involved, I literally can’t. And I don’t get it. It’s like they even say “you’re my brother” thing, but also they just do not give off any couply feels and imagining this kinda make me cringe a bit, cause I have two sisters I’m very close with and their relationship remind me of our relationships so just.. no.

7. They are not each others priority. Meaning both putting someone else or something else before them.

If they don’t put each other first, I most likely probably don’t want it.

My jam is like Stucky and when they say to Steve “you do this, captain, and the whole world would think of you as a criminal” and Steve being like “fuck you, take your shield, take your idiotic hero rules, I don’t care, he matters to me more than your whole dumbass world”.

My jam is Lan Zhan who went against the whole world and a horde of stupid donkeys and fought for his baby till the end. He really didn’t care if he’d lose everything and what would other ppl think, if it meant that Wei Wuxian will be with him.

On the other hand, we have Jin Guangyao, who had Lan Xichen, but he wanted power and idiots’ love more, so he chose what he chose. Do not get this ship, like no, thanks.

As for putting specific someone else first. Rin/Sousuke, for example. I in general do not get it, but also like there are like 10 moments in the anime like in Yakusoku when Rin forgot about him, when he saw Haru during the tournament and an actual quote “Sousuke looked at Rin, who will always put Haru first”. So like... I do not get it. If you see them as a couple this is technically no good no for Sousuke, no for Rin.

8. Obviously straight ones, but “hey, I need them gay”.

I in fact just do not believe in a “straight ppl do not exist” thing. As I’ve said before there are exceptions where some characters give off the clear bi vibe, but those are pretty rare tbh. And even more rare canonically proven ones like Kanda from D.Gray-man, for example.

The moment they show some character in anime drool over some girls he doesn’t even know, but he don’t react to any of the guys like this, this just means he’s most likely heterosexual. Cause only straight guys drool only specifically after seeing random boobs. So this thing always throws me off in some ships.

99% of my ships are either canonically gay or most likely gay, but author doesn’t want to label it.

There are just lots of animes where main character/s have shown no interest in an opposite gender whatsoever like “Natsume Yuujinchou”, “Kuroko No Basuke”, “AOT”, “Number24″, “Fukigen na Mononokean”, “Tower Of God”, “Owari no Seraph” etc., but did in fact show interest in the same gender one. That I get, yes.

And btw even if you want somebody to be as I call it a “wishful bi”, I think it should be only in situations like if these characters have some absolutely wonderful/undeniable connection, not just the ship for the sake of gay ship.

_____

That’s probably it. Otherwise I’m fine, I think :D

#answered #anonymous #shipping #otp #anime #or should i tag notp xD #tbh 2 is my nemesis #I for some reason can't stand it #technically it's not THE worst per se but somehow for me it is

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shiroganeryo · 4 years ago

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for the character thingy too: Miranda! 💖

I’m in bliss having gotten my two favorite DGM characters to babble talk about, so thank you very much for giving me Miranda, Lissah! ;;

My otp for them: As I explained in my ask for Allen, I ship her with him. I love both of them, so I naturally love to see them interacting and basically existing at the same time. I also think they have good potential; they’re very alike in personality but in different ways. Allen doesn’t usually let people in, so I think Miranda has a way of helping him deal with his weaknesses in a way he feels comfortable, and he can do the same for her since he seems to inspire confidence in her with his presence. I picture lots of mutual, emotional help that brings them closer. My brotp for them: Lenalee! I think the best relationships for her are the ones on which Miranda can have someone to be supportive and patient with her, given how she needs to be reassured often. Lenalee is very kind and knows how to help her to hang on when she needs to be strong. Any other ships: With Marie! Honestly, I feel bad for not having him in my OTP option - but I gotta let my heart choose the one... 💔 Marie is such an amazing guy! I love him to bits, and I do think he and Miranda would do really well as a couple. He’s reassuring and gentle, someone you can count on when you need a good word of advice, or just a calming company; which would do wonders for someone as insecure and prone to panicking as Miranda. I loved seeing them fighting together during the Lulu Bell invasion - they had such an epic entrance! Their best friend: Lenalee and Allen! They were the very first friends Miranda had, and it’s very clear how much she appreciates and cares for them. According to a Discussion Room, she and Lenalee hold tea parties with Jeryy sometimes, and it looks like Allen actually goes to them quite often. I don’t know how close she is to Jeryy, but it seems they’re good friends too! My favorite nickname for them: I don’t have one! My favorite AU headcanon of them: That she’ll be one of the people to leave the Order and join the Third Side of the war, that is, Allen’s team. Just imagine how much time she could buy him, literally. Miranda has always been a major asset in providing support whenever she appeared thanks to her unique Innocence, so I believe she could play a really important here as well, aiding Allen with keeping himself in the best state possible under the circumstances. He would probably be able of getting some real sleep without having to fear Nea eating at him... And she would be able of helping Kanda and Johnny while on the run, too! My favorite outfit they wear: Miranda wears lots of pretty, Victorian styled dresses, and I like all of them. But I think the outfit I liked the most was the first uniform she was seen in. The slider on which Time Record was kept on made the activation look really cool! She dislikes her hair, but she looked very pretty with it down, too. Defining color: When I think of her, I think about the color brown, naturally. Not just because of her hair, or because it reminds me of coffee, but also because of the old grandfather clock Time Record used to be. Would I date them: I- I’d marry her. 💦 She sounds like she would be a disaster as a lover/wife, but she’s so hardworking, I bet she would do everything she could to pamper the person she loves. She deserves so much love and appreciation, honestly. First impression: Who is this person? I bet she’ll become relevant, is she a new character? *tilts head in curiosity* Current impression: I LOVE HER SO MUCH 😭😭😭 After Allen, she’s a character I relate a lot with! She has lots of insecurities, but even so, she keeps doing her best and caring about others first and foremost. Miranda has a heart of gold, I love her personality. Time Record is the most well thought out Innocence as well, at least to me! So that makes her not only sweet but also strong and very interesting as a character! Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw! Time Record requires a lot of strategizing to be used efficiently, and according to her trivia, one of her favorite activities is studying and analyzing her Innocence. Miranda also seems to be very into thinking and constructive criticism of one’s abilities, especially her own, so that makes me think this House is the best fit for her. Which Pokemon starter they’d be: Turtwig! Out of all the starters, to me, it’s the one that looks like it has the most defense-oriented design, especially given how the back of its shell keeps on getting leafy with each evolution, which also looks like a shield of sorts. The plants and tree on the back of Grotle and Torterra respectively also make me think of life thriving thanks to being in contact with this Pokemon, which Miranda does with her healing powers.

#dgm #d.gray man #miranda lotto #ask #I feel like I didn't ramble as much on Lavi's which was the first one I did and I feel sorry for him #but I wrote his while not being too sleep deprived so that's why #guess I have more filter the more sleep I get sadjadk

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lapetiteshippeuse · 5 years ago

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LaviLena in a “Peraltiago” way ?

Okay, look.

For those who know the TV Show “Brooklyn Nine Nine”, when I rewatch some “Peraltiago” moments, I figure out that they are the kind of “Ying and Yang” couple, which means the one is clearly the opposite of the other : Peralta is messy, Santiago LOVES binders ; he disappoints the captain Holt every time ; she shows off with Holt (this appears more at the beginning) ; he is lazy, she is disciplined, etc. Like they are the white and the dark, this kind of opposition, if you understand what I mean.

And sometimes, I imagine that it could somehow fits with the Lavilena pairing of DGM : in the Noah Ark arc, Lavi says that he will go to sleep after finding Cross Marian and Lenalee, getting some physical training. He is someone rather “casual” and she hates the fact of being useless or unable to help her friends. Few days ago, I realize that Lavi and Lenalee are the perfect opposition of each other ; maybe you thought that the totally opposed character of Lavi is Kanda or Cross Marian.

Well, trust me, it’s Lenalee.

Maybe I will talk about this in another post if you want (ask me in the comments !) because that could take too long time, and this is not the main topic for today.

SOOOO, what I imagined then was LaviLena pairing having a “little game” like the Peraltiago couple from BNN at the beginning of the show when they are in a bet to know who has “the higher number of outlaws arrested” ; Santiago using Peralta’s car if she wins and Peralta asking (well, forcing her, rather) her on a date if he wins. And if you remember well he wins, does asks her on a date and this is where the romantic arc starts for them ! “Romantic style”, as usually says Peralta ^^

youtube

Just imagine Lavi and Lenalee instead of “Peraltiago” ;)

I imagined how does this narrative romantic arc type might look like for LaviLena (Lavi teasing her ; Lenalee wanting to humiliate him, while he wants to be a smart rabbit, in front of everyone, this kind of scenario ^^) :)

Would you like me to write an One Shot or a “little fanfiction” (or I don’t remember the name if it exists for little fanfictions) about LaviLena in the “Peraltiago” way ? Just for fun ? ;)

Answer me in the comments ! I probably guess that it is not a very original writing idea. I used to be coherent in what I want to write, even if I write fanfictions ; that is important for me. But, come on, let’s bring some fan service here, just one time ^^ And well, this is my decision and if I want to write this idea, why should not I do that. But I am curious about what you think of this post :)

Love. Take care of yourself <3. AND STAY HOME. DON’T GO SEARCHING LAVI. HOSHINO SAID HE IS ALIVE

#lavilena #d gray man #dgm lenalee #dgm #lenalee lee #lavi bookman #brooklyn nine nine #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #romantic style #romantic stuff

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brokasteltranslations · 6 years ago

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Fate/Requiem: Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a great war. It happened long ago, before I was born. And then it ended, and the world entered an age of peace.

–

In the modern era, each and every person held within their heart a tiny Holy Grail, which was nothing more or less than that person's preordained destiny. And each and every person was capable of summoning a Servant allotted them by fate, in accordance with the guidance of the Grail.

Servants were an information resource by nature, accumulated throughout human history. Their souls were enshrined in the Throne of Heroes, a place which transcended the bounds of space and time. By 'downloading' them from this Throne, it was possible to manifest them in our world.

–

The shape of the world changed greatly after the war. This town was born anew - reorganised into city units, known collectively as Mosaic City. Among them was Akihabara, the Maritime City, which I called home. Sea levels had risen dramatically as a result of global warming, and now the city quite literally bordered on the ocean. The Kanda river's name was nothing more than a vestige of the pre-war era; in reality, it was nothing more than a canal through which sea water flowed.

–

This town was watched over by the Holy Grail, and not a day went by when its citizens did not partake of its bounties. Those survivors from before the war had been given the opportunity to obtain a Grail upon its conclusion, while those young enough to have been born after the war, like Karin, possessed one within their hearts from birth.

The Grail had brought immortality to the masses. The principal causes of death in the old world – biological factors such as ageing, genetic degradation, infectious diseases, viruses and malignant cancers – had all been conquered. By expending Command Seals, one could even manipulate their biological age. In this city, one of humanity's oldest, dearest wishes – eternal youth – had been realised.

–

But I was different. I alone stood apart. I was the only citizen of this city who had not been granted a Holy Grail. I had been born into this new world, but I would age naturally – and, eventually, die – with all the senselessness characteristic of the old. An irregularity, born outside of the sight of the Grail. That was what I was – me, Utsumi Erice.

With no Holy Grail, I had no Servant to contract with as my partner. Every once in a while, someone would be unable to stifle the urge to ask me how that felt. If it were up to me, I would laugh at them, and tell them that they'd never understand even if I tried to explain – but I'd been chided no small number of times by my master for that. You would be remiss to be callous in your interaction with your social environment, if you wish to live peacefully in this new world.

So, for lack of anything else to say, I answered them like this:

“Imagine you were incredibly short-sighted, to the point where you could hardly see, but you were told you weren't allowed to wear glasses.”

“Imagine being told you had to travel somewhere on foot, while everyone else was allowed to use trains and buses.”

“Imagine going somewhere you've never been before, only to find that the navigation app on your smartphone was an unusable piece of junk.”

The question I had by far the most trouble with was the question of how I survived day-to-day life without Command Seals, which were one of the bounties of the Grail. On that point, no matter how thoroughly I tried to explain, most other people seemed to struggle to understand my situation any more than vaguely, and ultimately had no interest anyway. That was the ideal response, as far as I was concerned. I could find no fault with that.

There were also those who genuinely understood, and responded with exaggerated surprise and sympathy. Some would offer me the usage of their own Command Seals, assuring me with fawning pity that I could come to them if there was ever anything they could do for me. There were even a few so selflessly empathetic that they claimed to truly want to trade places with me – although always with some condition attached, by which they could return things to normal if they so pleased.

Every such encounter reminded me anew that I was nothing more than an amusement to them. A means of flattering their own altruistic sensibilities, and of relieving their boredom for a little while.

Akihabara was a labyrinth in three dimensions, not just two. In a block nestled a comfortable distance from the downtown area on the middle stratum, bordering a natural public park, stood a multi-storey building housing a collection of public service facilities. Contained on one floor of this building was the classroom I frequented.

I had arrived slightly late for the start time, and hurriedly took my seat. The wide, fan-shaped room was almost devoid of students. This was decidedly not a facility for compulsory education; it was offered the people at large educational lecture courses aimed at fostering lifelong learning. Citizens of all ages took the course, and attending every single lecture was virtually unheard-of. Consequently, I was known as something of an eccentric.

The people here knew nothing of the battle of immortals that occurred last night. Those kinds of incidents never made the news.

–

Well then – it was time for Pre-War Human History.

That was the name of the course I was taking. Unfortunately, it could hardly have been called the most popular subject. The content of the lectures was much closer to trivia than education. The main goal of Pre-War Human History comprised learning about the human race's greatest triumphs and blunders in the world of the past. It was...well, to put it bluntly, dry.

In the first place, Akihabara was Mosaic City's premier resort. Students who were sincerely striving to learn, or families concerned with the proper education of their children, would simply up and leave for another district. I had an inclination that this space only really existed to entertain the interests of the lecturer at the front of the hall – my master, Ms. Fujimura.

–

Oh, it looks like that girl's here again.

I cast a quick glance out over the lecture theatre from my usual perch at the back. A small, familiar figure was sat in the very front row, concentrating intently on the lecture. She had come again today. As a rule, I never saw students younger than myself attending these lectures, so she had stuck in my memory. She was a pale child, short in stature, and perhaps old enough to be at the upper end of elementary school. Her voice and attitude during the occasions that she posed questions to the lecturer had given me the impression that she was female, but there was no guarantee. All kinds of people lived in this city.

Her had was invariably pulled down low over her head, and her eyes were covered by her bangs, so I hadn't ever seen her face clearly. I had never engaged her in conversation, and I didn't even know her name. She appeared in lectures once a month or so; I felt a distinct disconnect between her keen attitude in lectures and her abysmal attendance rate.

Today, her standing record for youngest lecture attendee had been broken. The new champion was none other than my companion: the stray Servant I had taken in last night, the golden-haired child. He was at least sitting in his seat for now without making a fuss, but he was fidgeting constantly - rocking his body to and fro, and sometimes lying down as though trying to savour the feeling of the cool wood of the chair. Or so I was thinking, before he suddenly turned to peer into my face, obstructing my view of my tablet.

“You think you're a cat or something?”

“...Ca-...cat?”

“Maybe you're more of a dog, huh. Your hair's all floofy.”

“Dog?”

“Yeah, a dog. You know, woof-woof.”

“I know dogs.”

“Oh, really? Well, I'm glad for y- what the hell do you think you're doing!?”

He had scrambled up onto the seat of his chair, planted both hands on the desk and begun to howl, loud and proud.

Awooooo! Ow-ow-owooo! Awoooooo!

He finished his surprisingly accurate rendition, flashing a beaming smile. I sat for a moment in silent astonishment – and might perhaps have thought for a moment that it was a little endearing, although this really wasn't the time for that.

“Hey, stop that! Get down from there!”

Give me a break. I was just about to give you credit for at least not being as loud as Karin, and you go and pull this. The other attendees were turning back to look at us now, searching for the source of the noise.

“I'm sorry. We'll be quiet. I'm really sorry.”

My master had stopped giving her lecture, and was cocking her head at us. The girl in the front row was looking too. If looks could kill, the glare boring into me from beneath her bangs would have dropped me stone dead. Although I couldn't exactly blame her for getting annoyed at someone bringing this commotion into a class.

Yes miss I'm so terribly sorry I won't do it again...ugh, what did I do to deserve this...

I had no way of knowing how to handle a young child like this boy in the first place – but that said, I also couldn't possible have left him behind in my apartment by himself. And I had thought to myself that I might learn something about him if I brought him here with me.

“Don't dogs say “bow-wow” in English, anyway?”

“Boh-roh.”

“Not even close. Must be nice to be able to mimic things like that, huh...”

Ohh boy. Starting to get the feeling I'm not going to be learning much from today's lecture...

I rested my head on my hand and pouted. Gazing idly at the young boy's angelic face out of the corner of my eye, I cast my mind back through my memories of my baptism last night.

It had happened on the previous evening, after I had been fished from the riverbed by Karin and Kouyou on the wharf. To cut a long story short, I decided to take the boy back to my apartment and put him up for the night, still none the wiser about who he was or where he had come from.

–

I had been living on my own ever since parting ways with my grandmother.

In a quiet corner of Akihabara, there was a small, depopulated district that most people avoided. Before the war, it had comprised a collection of multi-purpose buildings crammed to bursting with shops, but they had all been abandoned after the Grail's large-scale restructuring of the city. My apartment consisted of a room in one such building.

The inside of the room was decorated in Victorian style. Every inch of floor was covered by wooden floorboards, and its antique interior had been preserved unaltered. Apparently, it had originally housed some kind of dubious culinary establishment known as a “maid cafe”.

–

My apartment wasn't exactly designed for ease of living, but it was furnished with a proper bathroom and bedroom, and was more than sufficient for one person to live in comfortably. It even had a veranda, albeit a small one. From the window of my bedroom I could gaze out over a small vertical slice of ocean hemmed in by the surrounding buildings.

–

My opportunities to invite another person back to this humble abode were rare. Considering my job, the risks involved in freely letting others know where I lived were far too high. The only reason I had brought this child back with me was that it would have been too irresponsible to leave him to his own devices. I didn't even know who his contractor was; to have allowed him to freely roam the town would have been unthinkable.

He might have manifested in the form of an innocent child, but that only set me more on edge. I had allowed myself to be disarmed by a target's outward appearance before, on a previous job, and had made a grave mistake because of it. A Servant I had believed nothing more than an angelic young child - like purity itself sculpted in alabaster - had harboured a terrible darkness. The Avenger, Louis XVII. The incident that arose around that particular monstrosity had ultimately claimed not only the life of his Master, but those of a great number of innocents as well.

At the time, I had not yet fully graduated from childhood. Louis and I had been similar in stature, and I had thought we could have been good friends. In the end, however, my friendship and goodwill had been used and turned against me. That incident was not one I would forget easily.

–

There was another reason that I had brought this stray child back with me: I had been driven to my wits' end in another sense. Frankly speaking, I could not take it any more: the rank stench that permeated the both of us had become unbearable, and I could not bear to go another minute without washing it off.

The culprit was the oil slick near the quay that I'd had the ill fortune to be dragged through when I was fished out of the Kanda river. Petroleum-based waste oil, that had leaked from one of the boats moored in the harbour. I had hardly had the time to worry about such things immediately after being deposited on the wharf, but now that I had returned to my senses the discomfort was driving me to distraction. Pouring water over myself or wiping myself down with paper towels would do nothing to remove this - I needed a proper bath.

I had been stopped by a worried Karin when I had tried to totter my way home, still bearing a serious wound that I had no right to have recovered from so quickly. She had only seen me off after I had explained about the charms and such that I kept in my house. She was easygoing like that.

I had tried to invite her to stay the night here, but she had breezily turned me down, saying that she had a friend in the vicinity who would put her up for the night. Karin's social connections remained as much a mystery to me as ever. Although she had given me a rueful smile, saying that her family would be angry with her for returning home the following morning.

–

In any case, I had finally returned home, and could allow myself to relax a little. I looked the boy over once more, this time with the aid of my apartment's artificial lights.

“Hold on. Hey, no, wait, wait, wait! Don't just go right in! Just stand here for a minute.”

I grabbed him by his sodden scarf and yanked him back, prompting a visible sulk.

“Uh...sorry.”

So he did possess emotions, and the capacity to appeal to them. That would be useful, at least.

Both of us looked ridiculous, soaked from head to toe and glistening with oil. I was at least wearing swimwear and a windbreaker in place of my ordinary clothes, but his lot was a much more miserable one. I could feel my memories of the unearthly spectacle I had witnessed below the surface of the water growing more distant by the minute.

Alll-righty. I pulled myself together, and sank to one knee in the entranceway, looking over this child once more from top to toe.

He at least appeared to be eight, maybe nine years old. He was Caucasian, with the pale features particular to Scandinavian climes - although given that Servants were as much concept as they were genetics, any attempt to determine their race was close to meaningless. His hair was a pale blonde, almost white, and it had been left to grow freely.

His scarf was sodden, and hung limp around his neck. Or maybe it was a muffler? Well, it wasn't as though it mattered. It was composed of fabric knitted from some strange, gaudy material – it was hard to say if it was actual gold, or just extremely intricate needlework. His clothing looked to be made of cotton, and had a simple design, reminiscent of a Greek-style tunic. He had a small embroidered design on his chest, which I made a note of as a potentially important clue.

His belt and shoes were made of the same material as his scarf. The heels of the latter had a strange design; they were tapered towards the back, like spurs used for riding horses. I could have taken that as an indication that in life he had been some sort of knight – but nothing else about him gave that impression. He's nothing like any other Saber or Rider-class Servants I've seen.

His pale blue eyes stared back at me questioningly as I scrutinised him. I was seized by a sudden rush of curiosity.

“Hey. Do you think you could tell me where you came from?”

He smoothly lifted an arm to point towards the ceiling.

“From the sky? From Heaven? You don't mean from the moon, do you?”

He shook his head at all of them.

“I've come...from somewhere very far away.”

“All Servants have.”

“...Really?” He must have found something amusing, because his face blossomed into a smile, and he giggled. I was relieved at the unexpected ease with which I was able to communicate with him, although it seemed like he was still struggling to understand what I was saying.

His first words had been in halting English, but from the way he had appeared to be listening in on the conversation between me and Karin I would venture that he at least understood our language. If he was a Servant who had been summoned legitimately, he would have been granted a bare minimum level of common knowledge about the modern era by the Grail, as well as the linguistic capabilities necessary to express himself to others naturally. However, now that I was trying to determine his true name, that was only serving to impede my search.

As I questioned him, I produced a pair of scissors and carefully snipped a five-millimetre length of thread from the back of his tunic, which I deposited in a zip-lock sample bag.

“Would you mind letting me take one of your hairs as well?”

It looked like he was giving me the ok. He did as I asked, without resisting, and as I did he asked me a question.

“Have you come from somewhere far away like me, Eri?”

“Don't call me that. Did you get that from Karin? Alright, listen here. I'm not “Eri”, I'm not “Old man Eri”, and I'm not “Eri-pie”. I'm Erice. Utsumi Erice.”

“Hmm.”

He remained staring at me, giving me no indication whether or not he'd understood. His reaction was a little dispiriting, but I continued anyway. If I kept talking, I might be able to glean something.

“It's not all that far away, really. I was born in Shinjuku. I'm fourteen now, so I guess you could call me a middle schooler, but I don't usually go to school anyway.”

“What's a 'school'?”

“A school is...it's where you go to learn. It's a big building where lots of children all go. Or at least, that's what I hear it was like before the war. They've changed a lot since then.”

“You don't go to school, Eri?”

“I told you to call me Erice. And I don't need to. I'm passing my academic evaluations, and I'm getting the credits I need from extracurricular courses. And I show up for health inspections and such.”

“You don't want to go to school, do you?”

I grit my teeth. He'd hit the nail on the head. He was annoyingly good at that.

“It's...not a matter of whether I want to go or not. I...I have more important things to do.”

“You're alone.” He cocked his head, and then broke out into another smile. “Just like me.”

I suppressed my irritation silently as I tapped at my tablet. I was trying a search for the symbol embroidered on his chest, but nothing was coming up. Just in case, I tried accessing the city network, but no-one had registered any missing Servants - although it wasn't as though that was a frequent occurrence anyway. I could ask my master about any information that might be being suppressed on a public level, but I could hardly go blithely to her cap-in-hand. Not after I had tried to hide from her that I had disobeyed her orders and let Kundry go.

Even so, there was one theory as to his identity that I had managed to come up with. Spurred on by that, I decided to bite the bullet.

“So, which Servant are you?”

“...?”

He tilted his head in confusion. Was he trying to play dumb? It didn't look like an act, at any rate. It seemed that somehow, he really didn't understand the concept of a Servant. Was that even possible?

“I'm asking about your true name. Although your nickname will do, if that's better-known.”

Once, Servants would not have revealed their true name lightly, but that was before the war. In the modern world, it had become more of a question of personal privacy. No small number of Servants had origins that could complicate life in Mosaic City if they became known to others, and the degree of discretion necessary might also change depending on their relationship with their Master.

This boy likely wouldn't talk about his true name if his unknown Master did not wish it. And all the more so if he didn't have one at all.

“Your name, I said. Tell me your name.”

“...Name?”

“That's right. Your name.”

“Don't you know it?”

“...Huh? Don't I...you mean my name?”

It was supposed to be me asking the questions here. I was starting to feel that if I just allowed this wide-eyed child to talk at his own pace, I would end up the one being profiled.

Abruptly, he opened his mouth again. “There's something I've lost.”

“Something you've lost? What did you lose?”

“I don't know.”

I heaved a sigh. At the same moment, a sharp stench once more pricked at my nostrils.

“It sounds like you're suffering from memory loss. I think things like that can happen after summoning...? Well, anyway, there's nothing we can do for now. And I'm about at my wits' end, so right now I'm going to have a shower. I'll let you use the bathroom too, so go on ahead.”

“Show-er?”

“A shower. You know, like a bath.”

“...A bath?”

“Wait, you really don't know? Don't tell me you don't even know what a shower is? Hang on, have you ever even had a wash?”

He shook his head. Apparently he really hadn't ever experienced a bath. Although even if he hadn't, surely the idea itself fell under common knowledge.

Do your job, Holy Grail.

For as long as I had lived here, my bathroom had been rather chic. It had a French-style interior, and was easily wide enough for two people. The star of the show was a shallow enamel bathtub, pulled straight from a western movie. Incidentally, the bedroom was decorated in equally charming fashion, and was the biggest reason I chose this apartment.

The design was uncharacteristically luxurious for a department store coffee shop. Either the owner had been extremely specific tastes...or from the beginning, this building had been designed with less-than-wholesome purposes in mind. Probably the latter. Not that that had anything to do with me; I was nothing more than a grateful beneficiary. But it did mean one more thing for Karin to tease me about.

I gritted my teeth, and led the boy by the hand to the bathroom. He was still dawdling, unsure as to what was going on. I had him take off his clothes and made him stand in the dressing room. Then I set to filling the bathtub, removing my own dirtied clothing as I did so. He's just a kid. What's there to be embarrassed about? Nothing! That's right, nothing at all.

There was still an outside chance that he would turn out to have the mind of a middle-aged man, but I'd cross that bridge if I came to it.

“I suppose I'd better put my swimsuit in to soak...ouch!”

Agony lanced through me as I twisted my body the wrong way. I re-treated the injury to my abdomen, and covered it over with a water-resistant patch. It was still undergoing accelerated recovery, and it was warm to the touch. The wound was serious enough that with the treatment methods of the past, oligemic shock and acute inflammation would have been unavoidable. But this new world had conquered death itself, and treatments for injuries and accidents had not been overlooked on the way. Many technologies had been developed during the war, and now I reaped the benefits.

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

His eyes were drawn to the scar on my ear, and he screwed up his face.

“It isn’t nice, is it? Every thorn-prick makes its own hole.”

“...You said it.”

Was he worrying that I might be left with a scar, in his own way? If so, he was quite the gentleman.

“But it's ok. Kouyou patched it up for me, so it'll heal with time.”

For my part, I carefully looked his naked body up and down once more. This was a vital step in my investigation, and thus an entirely proper and lawful act.

He was...definitely a boy, yep.

–

Once I had painstakingly washed away the cause of the stench, I finally entered the bathtub - along with the boy, who was trying to escape at any opportunity.

“It's hot.”

“That's what's good about it. Ordinary Servants love to take baths. They're all very happy to get in. There are even some who have baths as their Noble Phantasms. There's one who summons this great big bathchamber, called Terme di Caracalla...”

“I want to get out.”

He was pulling a very sullen expression, but at least he was being obedient.

I can't see any scars on him. His muscles and weight don't seem any different from a normal child's, either. I found it very hard to believe that he might be some kind of knight summoned in their youth. When he'd said that he didn't know what a bath was, the first thing I'd suspected was child abuse; Heroic Spirits who had come from such unhappy backgrounds were too numerous to count. But he showed no sign of having received that kind of treatment, or at least not outwardly.

My confidence in my hypothesis was growing stronger, and I decided to put it to the test.

–

I stretched out from the bathtub. With the steam-clouded mirror as my canvas, I drew a picture of a hat with my fingertip. It was a crude sketch of an old-fashioned, wide-brimmed men's hat with a slightly indented top, as seen from the side.

“Hey. Can you tell me what this is?” I asked him hesitantly, my chest pounding nervously. It only took a brief glance at the picture before he answered.

“It's...a snake.”

I started. For a moment, I was lost for words.

“It looks like it's eaten something big.”

He'd answered my question perfectly.

“It scares me a little.”

Droplets fell from his body as he shivered and turned away. I hadn't even imagined that he might show such a violent reaction. I quickly wiped away the picture on the mirror, and found myself patting his head to try and reassure him. I could feel the slickness of his wet hair and the warmth of his body through the palm of my hand.

“What about “B-612”? Or maybe you could call it “Besixdouze”?”

“Yes.” He nodded in answer. No hesitation.

“You know it?”

“It's a planet, isn't it? But there's no-one there.”

I was silent for a moment. That's right. It's a planet. Of course it is.

“I see...so there's no-one there. But I think...I might know your true name now.”’

B-612 was the name of an asteroid that orbited the solar system. It was not remarkable in any way, save for the fact that it had been discovered by a Japanese national. It would hardly be included in the common knowledge that the Holy Grail bestowed upon Servants. But that asteroid was named for a novella from a foreign country, and the title of that novella was “The Little Prince”.

On a sudden impulse, I embraced him. In the bathtub, I wrapped my arms around his narrow shoulders from behind, and squeezed him tight. So as not to break him. So as not to hurt him.

“If only...if only you had been my Servant...”

He showed no sign of answering me.

Before entering the bathtub, as I was washing myself, I had checked everywhere. Desperately, I had searched to see if Command Seals, the proof of a contract with a Servant, had appeared anywhere on my body. I had strained my eyes in the mirror, checking my back, beneath the translucent medical patch, even the soles of my feet. But they were nowhere to be seen.

Then I was no-one's Master. I could not have made any contract with this boy through the Grail. I was just the Reaper, the same as I had always been.

In that case, what had that sense of foreboding been?

What had that trembling been in my chest? That sense that something had begun that would change my life forever?

In the end, it had all just been my own wishful thinking.

–

After the bath, we retired to my living-cum-dining room, where a mahogany table had stood ever since this place was a cafe. The boy sat in a chair, working his way through a lasagne that I had microwaved from frozen. I was recording the day's events, tablet in hand and a towel around my head, and I was blushing as red as his bolognese sauce. I felt incredibly embarrassed. This boy hadn't even yet come of age, but I had suddenly embraced him, whispered something that felt almost like a confession of love, and then ended up crying. While naked, no less.

His only response, after a while had passed, had been to furrow his eyebrows and complain “It's hot”.

“Is that good?”, I asked.

“It tastes.”

“Really? Sounds great.”

The samples I had taken earlier were on the table. Both contents of the zip-lock bag had vanished, just as I had expected. Separated from his body, his hair and the thread from his tunic had ceased to exist in their pseudo-physical form, and had reverted to being part of his mana. In other words, his body and the clothes he wore were woven from the stuff. That made for strong evidence that he was a Servant - but it was unneeded, because an easier way to tell was right before my eyes. The clothes that I had left on the floor of the dressing room had since returned to a clean, dry state.

The scarf that he wore around his neck floated freely, with no regard for the laws of physics. Even while he was eating, it fluttered gently, as though rising upon the wind. Needless to say, there was no wind inside my apartment.

He couldn't be the Simoun...could he? The poison wind?

–

The night had grown late, and I wrestled with the sleepiness and exhaustion that assailed me as I stared at my tablet. I thought back to the words I had exchanged with the Flying Dutchman, Captain Van der Decken. Every word of the warning he had given me lay heavy on my breast.

Until it became clear that our enemy was the mad queen, he had maintained a policy of non-interference, and only once had he commented on my methods. He had been cursed by a devil of the ocean. My lot was not too dissimilar - for I too was cursed, and possessed by evil spirits. Living my life beyond the sight of the Grail, I might as well have been a naked offering to them. But that was also the reason that I'd lasted as long as I had in this job.

I had let my guard down. I had allowed myself to believe that Captain Van der Decken and I might have been able to find an understanding, as bearers of the same fate. But he had seen through those naïve expectations, and had roughly spurned my advances.

“You have grown to feel joy in the act of slaying Servants, under the pretence of executing the authority of the city. Though you think yourself the master of your spectres, they in turn use you.”

He was telling me, in a roundabout way, that I was intoxicated by the idea of being a superhero. That what I had believed to be pride was in fact conceit.

“Someday, Erice, you will call forth a great evil. And when that time comes, that which you have clung to so dearly will instead force you to your knees.”

Unable to accept his words and fiercely ashamed, I had retorted with some frivolous argument - although I could admit now that it had just been something I had cooked up to make myself feel better. At the time I had thought he was just trying to put me in my place, but thinking back on it now, his words might have been as much in reproach of himself as they had been for me. His relationship with his contractor Aheseurus - equal in spite of being Master and Servant - spoke more eloquently of his sincerity than words ever could.

“Are you paying attention, Erice?”

I was brought out of my reverie by my master's polite chiding.

“You seem very tired. Perhaps it might be for the best if you took a moment to rest in the break room? I can prepare the lecture material for your perusal later, if you'd like.”

I let out a whimper. This was embarrassing. My second disgrace this morning. I shook my head vigorously. My master nodded, and recommenced the lecture in a soft voice.

–

Her name was Caren Fujimura. She was the lecturer responsible for this class, and also my master. I had known her for as long as I could walk.

Outwardly, she appeared to be in her twenties. She had light amber eyes, and wavy, pale grey hair that cascaded down to the small of her back. Her body combined a slender build with voluptuous Hispanic curves. Most notable of all, however, was her impeccable sense of style. Nobody else could come close to its audacity. Today, too, she looked sharp as a knife.

Or at least, I thought so, but waxing lyrical on the subject only seemed to earn me pained smiles from Karin and others. Well, it wasn't as though I cared anyway. If I was the only one who could understand her magnificence, so be it.

“...?”

The boy, who had been quiet at my side for a long time, had begun focusing on my master when she had spoken to me. Now he turned his gaze to the skirt of my school uniform, then to his own trousers, and cocked his head. He turned his head to make one more pass, carefully comparing, and then spoke with some conviction.

“She isn't wearing anything down there.”

“That she isn't.”

My master really was incredible.

It was not on account of her position as my lecturer that I called Caren Fujimura my master. Nor was it on account of her being my fashion role model. She was inhuman, in every way, and not in the sense of being part of the new postwar humanity. She was an artificial intelligence – an AI.

More precisely, she was the municipal administration AI tasked with the management of the Akihabara ward. A human interface that allowed the Grail to communicate directly with the people of the city. A hybrid intelligence – the most valuable in the city – born of the fusion of summoning magecraft, modelled on the kind that called forth Heroic Spirits, and cutting-edge information engineering technology. Such was the true nature of Caren Fujimura.

–

Ms. Fujimura's lecture on pre-war human history continued. Today's topic was the history and profiles of the great pioneers. Those brave adventurers who sailed west on crude wooden vessels, carving a path to an unknown lands. Those bold explorers who discovered – or rediscovered – the distant new world, and secured the shipping routes that would become the lifeblood of a global civilisation.

–

She spoke of Eric the Red, who crossed from Europe to Greenland and settled there. Of his son, Lief Ericsson, who made landfall in the northeast of North America and named it “Vinland”. Of the roots of the Polynesians, who propagated across the islands of the south Pacific in canoes little better than rafts, and were sometimes set adrift by rogue currents to journey thousands of kilometres.

Of Christopher Columbus, the conqueror who never once lost sight of his dream; who sailed to the farthest reaches of the western sea aboard the legendary Santa Maria, and there rediscovered the new world. Of Vasco de Gama, who crossed the Cape of Good Hope and pioneered the Indian trade route. Of the Cape itself - the southern tip of the African continent and one of the great perils of the Age of Discovery, where Captain Van der Decken's Dutch galleon met its fate upon the rocks.

She told of Ferdinand Magellan, whose vessels first circumnavigated the world. Although he perished before the completion of his journey, his feat proclaimed to the world beyond all doubt that the earth was not flat, but round. Through him, the people came to know that the world they lived on was just one more celestial body like the moon or Mars, forging silently onwards through the void.

And here too was the first captain to circumnavigate the globe: Francis Drake, the privateer! Ah, here was the magnificent Golden Hind! I had already been absorbed in the lecture, but here my excitement reached its zenith, my mind filling with daydreams of the open sea.

From Servants who had lived through the same era, I had heard tales that Drake, the admiral who broke the back of the invincible Spanish Armada, had in truth been a woman more gallant than any man. That the man who set the sun had, in fact, been the woman who set the sun. I personally found them impossible to believe, and I'd also heard them refuted by other pirate Servants. Stories like that ain't nothin' more'n piss in the wind, girly. Drake was a man, sure as my beard is long.

It was a common enough story when it came to Servants. Some ages of history had placed little importance on gender distinctions. Conversely, in others women had been so oppressed that they could only perform heroic deeds whilst disguised in men's clothing. Such confusion was liable to muddy historical records.

Even if Drake had been female, it would do nothing to tarnish the glory of her legend.

–

My enriching study time was now approaching its end, although I had struggled to focus on all of the contents of the lecture.

“I would like to give a brief introduction to one final figure. An American man whose one small step signified a giant leap for mankind.”

The screen changed in sync with Ms. Fujimura's commentary. Now it displayed a world of extreme contrasts: a sea of grey regolith, and the dark vacuum of space. Within the shadow thrown by a lunar lander, a figure in a space suit descended a ladder to stand upon the moon's surface.

“This was the first man to stand on the face of the moon. He, too, counts among the great pioneers of the human race.”

“...Eh...?”

A single voice arose, quavering not with wonder but with astonishment.

“A human went to the moon...? A living human?”

The source of the voice was none other than the young girl in the front row.

“Indeed. It would be fifty-six years before the modern day. Three astronauts ventured to the moon, and two among them descended to walk upon its surface.”

“More than half a century ago? There weren't even control units back then capable of calculating orbital trajectories-”

“There were.”

Another video resource flashed onto the screen. This time it showed a bulky copper box that must have weighed dozens of kilograms, and a small keyboard. The commentary indicated that this was the Apollo spaceship's guidance computer.

“Single-core, 8-bit. A most splendid computer to be mounted in the lunar lander. It likely had less than one ten-thousandth the processing power of the smartphones you all have in your pockets. And yet it was enough to guide the lander by autopilot, even though human error necessitated its rebooting just prior to landing.”

Ms. Fujimura sounded almost triumphant now. There had been a strange change in her expression, although it was so slight I doubted anyone but me would even have a chance of noticing. Perhaps, for an AI, it was a point of pride to be able to talk about the vital contribution a computer had made to one of humanity's most historic achievements.

No, that's not it...

She was delighting in the shock her student was experiencing, from her first contact with this knowledge. She was revelling in it. The girl retracted her body and sat back down in her seat, fuming.

“That's irresponsible. It's reckless.”

“Indeed it was. It was one of the most reckless ventures in human history, and precious lives were lost along the way.”

“That's all the more reason it could never have happened!”

As though scoffing at our worries from across the ages, the portly figure of the spaceman upon the screen began to moonwalk, gleefully bounding across the moon's surface. He was humming to himself merrily, like some shameless delinquent.

“Rather carefree, isn't he? One would never think only a thin spacesuit separated him from the zero-pressure vacuum and the hellish 110-degree temperatures outside.”

My master smiled faintly, as she expressed her admiration for the men in the video. Even when they raced their moon buggies across the lunar plain, they were rough and careless, as though they were driving go-karts at some amusement park. The girl at the front returned to gazing at the video, a flabbergasted expression on her face.

“Ah...ahaha...!” I couldn't help bursting out in laughter.

Her shoulders trembled a little. I'd picked an awful time.

–

The “Great Pioneers” instalment concluded by saying that although the human race had raised its flag in one great unknown after the other – first the new world beyond the seas, then the distant skies, and finally the void of space – landing a group of carefree delinquents on the surface of the moon had marked the end of their exploits. Not once since had they set their sights on anything farther. The Apollo generation's dream of a grand conquest of the stars remained a dream to this day. Mars, Venus and the outer space beyond the solar system remained unknown to the print of human boot.

I wondered if perhaps the human race had, somewhere along its way, lost sight of something incredibly precious.

I wondered if perhaps someday there might rise once again, on the edge of the farthest frontier, someone worthy of being called a hero. Someone who would lead mankind forth once more towards a new world.

“Hey, there you are, Eri-pie! Wanne grab some food?”

Karin burst into the classroom just as the lecture had ended. She must have guessed where I would be. I had thought she might have returned home after the events of last night, but she must have remained in Akihabara.

“Oh, it's you, Karin. I'll hold off for now. I've still got things I need to do.”

“Ehh? Hasn't your class just wrapped up?”

“Well, yeah, but I'm not talking about class.”

“Oh, the shrimp's tagging along? Good, good. You put some proper breakfast in him, right? What's he been eatin'?”

“Cereal. And some water.”

“Oh, ouch. You know that's child abuse, right? Like, I should probably be calling a social worker about now?”

“Just give it a rest, geez...”

I hadn't been back to my apartment for the past few days, and my reserves had all expired, so I had ended up with very little by way of food. I hadn't so much as forced cereal and water on him as noticed his interest in the food I was hurriedly shovelling down and shared a little.

Servants didn't typically require meals in the usual sense, but in the post-war world where they had become commonplace, more care was being paid to improving their quality of life. There were even some citizens' groups that insisted that they had a right to live the same as humans. In my view, Servants were fundamentally inhuman existences, and I saw those attempts to impose human restrictions on something unbound by the framework of nature as little more than evidence of their Masters' egotism – although I couldn't deny that might just have been the bitter prejudice of a have-not speaking.

“Sssssssup! Morning, Caren!”

“Good morning to you too, Karin.”

Ms. Fujimura approached the two of us.

“Karin...and Caren...?”

The boy looked between the two, confused.

“Yeah, you got it. Pain in the ass, right? The Caren in Akihabara has this kinda grown-up, sexy feel to her. The one back home is a lot more, uh...wha-chaa!”

“What's “wha-chaa!” supposed to mean? And you should be calling her Ms. Fujimura.” Karin had drawn one knee up to strike a kung-fu pose. I gave her a smack.

“Karin lives in the Shibuya district. The me who lives there is a drawer for a Chinese restaurant.” My master smiled gently. I wondered what it felt like, to know there were different versions of herself active all over the city.

A few elderly students were still hanging around in the classroom, chatting amongst themselves. My master ushered us from the room, and we relocated to a terrace protruding from midway up the building. This was a leisure space, and it commanded a wide view of the sprawl of Akihabara. At this early hour, the sea breeze was light, and the sun was not too strong. It was just cool enough that that shaded areas were still a little chilly.

The distant rumble of a train smoothly pulling in from the oversea viaduct drifted to us from across the water, along with the faint toot of its horn. Beyond the horizon, where the railway vanished, lay Shinjuku and Shibuya.

“So this child is the Servant with the unknown Master?”

“That's right.”

I had already informed her about the situation in advance, but I took the opportunity to introduce the boy to her in person.

“To tell the truth, I already have a good guess as to his identity. Although he doesn't really react to what I say most of the time. He doesn't seem to be entirely all there.”

I took the plunge, and told her about last night's discoveries – hoping somewhere deep down this made up for the regret I felt at keeping quiet about Kundry's flight and the events that had followed.

“Antoine de Saint-Exupéry...? A French author, as I recall, and one of great renown. He was also an accomplished pilot, and served in the Second World War. You believe this child's identity to be this Saint-Exupéry?”

The object of our scrutiny, the child in question, showed no reaction to the name. He took a sip of the freshly-squeezed orange juice that Karin had bought from a juice stand, and pulled a face. Sour.

“His appearance is a poor match, even taking into account the age difference.” I could sense my master checking records in the background, and cross-referencing them with the child in front of her. I pressed on with my next hypothesis.

“I think he's the Little Prince. Don't you think he looks just like Saint-Exupéry's illustrations?”

The Little Prince was an allegorical short story. It was the last completed work by Saint-Exupéry, who passed away at a young age. Whether online or in physical bookshops, one would inevitably find it in the children's book category, but it couldn't be more different to the fairy tales it rubbed shoulders with on the shelves. That said, nor was it something like the Bible, whose every line existed to be quoted and venerated. It was a comforting presence, like a familiar friend at your side, always ready with a lighthearted quip or a sobering anecdote. Or so I thought, anyway.

“Eh? So you're a prince, are you? Hmmmm? Now you mention it, he does look kinda regal. Think he'd make a good match with my Momi? She is a princess, you know. Whaddaya think?”

Karin pinched the boy's cheek, grinning wickedly, and he turned his head away in clear discomfort. I decided to leave them to it, and added to my master that last night the boy had answered my riddle with the keyword that only the Little Prince would know.

“I see...” She struck a contemplative pose as I continued.

“I'm aware that he doesn't look very much like Saint-Exupéry. That's why I'm wondering if he could be an author Servant who's taken on the form of a character from one of his own works. I'm sure there are examples of that.”

“There are indeed. Many authors' works leave a far greater impression on the world to come than the men themselves. Many more choose such forms of their own accord. However, if you would permit me my personal opinion - ”

She left a beat, pushing up her glasses.

“ - I would conjecture that Saint-Exupéry would project himself not onto the Little Prince, but onto the Pilot who narrates the story. It was, after all, his own experience of crash-landing in the Sahara desert that formed the basis for the book.”

“Ah...yes, I...I suppose...”

She was right. Given the content of the book, it was an entirely legitimate criticism. She was saying that this child was likely something fundamentally different to just some writer Servant with perverse tendencies and a strong capacity for empathy.

While I hadn't been watching, the subject of out conversation had begun sipping on a honey-lemon drink. He must have traded his orange juice with Karin. This was evidently more to his tastes; he was smiling broadly.

“I have conferred with the Caren units in the other districts, but he does not appear to match any Servant under our jurisdiction. I cannot even venture more than vague hypotheses as to his class.” It seemed that as an AI, she was capable of communicating with her other units in the background even as she talked with me.

So he wasn't a lost Servant who had wandered in from some other district. At the very least, we now knew that there was no record of Saint-Exupéry being registered as a Servant anywhere in Mosaic City.

“Please do not be disheartened, Erice. I do not mean to dismiss your opinion; the possibility remains. And just by having secured him, you have already done a wonderful job.”

“I suppose...”

“He seems to be stable, aside from his memories, so I will fit him with a classification tag. For as long as he continues to reside in this town, I will refer to him as “The Little Prince (TBD)””.

“...'Brackets...TBD'...?”

“Guess so. Would be a pain in the ass if he didn't have a name, right? Brackets, TBD.” Karin cheerily patted the Little Prince (TBD) on the head.

“Um...about last night's incident...” I straightened my back, and tried to change the topic to my report of the previous night's events – and suddenly my master stood up from her seat, looking at me ruefully.

“I owe you an apology, Erice. A matter has sprung up that requires my urgent attention. Would you mind submitting your report as a brief text document?”

“Eh...? I mean...of course.”

I felt relieved, but at the same time more concerned. Whatever this urgent matter was, this was the first I'd heard of it, and my master was not known for changing her schedule lightly.

“But what do you think I should do about him?”

“That was my next point. I am sorry to ask this of you, but would you mind taking charge of him for the time being? If his identity becomes clear during that time, all the better.”

“Eh-?”

My master's eyes narrowed into a smile as my mouth clamped shut. The already-unusual situation had just taken a turn for the stranger.

“No way, no way, no way. Isn't that going to be a problem? With my job and everything?”

“No other individual in Akihabara is so equipped to tackle as exceptional a case. To call you a specialist in the handling of Servants would not be an exaggeration.”

It would. It absolutely would. My specialisation was not the handling of Servants - it was murder. Restraining the most villainous of Servants, and keeping them under strict surveillance, I could do. But I was not nearly so capable of attending to the needs of a young boy, barely any different from an ordinary human child, who didn't even know his own name.

Karin chipped in. “Can't he just bunk at my place? What's an extra brother or two, anyway?”

“Quite a lot, I think...”

Karin's suggestion was extraordinarily irresponsible, but my master only inclined her head. “My thanks for your hospitality Karin, but I am afraid that I cannot yet say what threat this child poses. I cannot permit him to reside with ordinary citizens.”

“I'm tellin' you, it's cool. I've got Momi, don't I? It'll be fine!”

Karin dug in deeper, and my master responded with another polite but firm refusal. In all honesty, it would have been a weight off my mind – although I wouldn't say that the notion of Karin taking responsibility for a portion of my job didn't grate on me a little.

Just as I was becoming aware of my own troublesome misgivings, a newcomer hurriedly approached the recreation space where we were conversing.

“Caren Fujimura? If you wouldn't mind, there's something I'd like to ask you.”

It was her – the girl in the hat from the front row. She had run out of the classroom just before the lecture had ended, conversing with someone over her smartphone. She must have returned now that her conversation had ended.

“It's nice to see you, Haruko. Do you have a question for me about the lecture?”

“That's right. I wanted to ask about the role of astrology during the Age of Discovery-” A sudden squall blew through the terrace, and she clutched at her hat, pulling it down tightly over her ears. I saw my chance and hurriedly forced my way into the conversation – although really, she had been the one who had interrupted us.

“H-hang on a moment. I was already talking with Ms. Fujimura...”

She glared at me in silence. Her brilliant peppermint-green eyes glinted from behind a parting in her fringe. “It was only thanks to the repeated interruptions from you and your Servant that I didn't have the opportunity to ask these questions during the lecture.”

“Well, I'm...I'm sorry about that. But, well, you see, he's not exactly my Servant...”

“Is that so? My apologies. But as his guardian, you should be more conscious of your responsibility to ensure he does not cause trouble for others in public spaces.”

Her motions – her gait, and even the way she was holding down her hat - were clipped and precise. She was barely taller than the innocent child drinking juice by my side, but she somehow seemed many years his elder. Beneath the white gown I had seen so often in lectures, she was wearing a slightly old-fashioned bright yellow blouse.

I'm positive...I've seen those clothes before somewhere... Now where was it?

“Um...you mentioned astrology, didn't you? If you're curious about the involvement of magecraft in human history, why don't you go to the library? You'd be able to research it as much as you wanted.”

I'd intended it as a sincere and respectful recommendation...but instead she expelled a short, sharp sigh, and her attitude became palpably frostier. This was getting awkward.

“You're telling me to go to the library? That would be far less efficient than asking an administrative AI – I mean, Ms. Fujimura directly. I would have thought that someone who went to the trouble of attending lectures would be cognizant of the vast difference in value between the vague knowledge one can acquire through reference materials, and the clear and consistent explanations that can be gained through conversations with an expert in the field. And if you do not understand that, then I must ask why you insist on wasting others' time with your indolence.”

“W-what do you mean, 'indolence'...?”

“Well damn. Kid's got a mouth on her...”

Things were going from bad to worse - now Karin had taken an interest. If I left this alone, it could easily easily escalate beyond my control and into an all-out brawl. She was free to pick whichever fights she wanted, but I wanted to avoid any risk of worsening my relationships with other students and ending up barred from attending.

“Come on, Karin. Cut it out. I'm not mad or anything.”

“...Hm? Wait a second, I'm sure...” Karin looked as though she'd just noticed something. The girl hurriedly pulled her hat back down over her head. My master had called this girl Haruko, hadn't she?

“I too have important matters to attend to. I really do have to hurry.”

“I...I see. Sorry about all this.” She had come all the way to this terrace searching for my master, and I wanted to show some recognition of her dedication. In that sense, we were kindred spirits. “If I'm not mistaken, you don't come to lectures very often, do you? If you wouldn't mind, I could let you borrow my old notes...”

“If you're going to mock me so, I hope you're prepared for the consequences.”

“Eh? Did...did I say something wrong?” How short was this girl's fuse? I desperately looked to Karin for help, but she only shook her head as though to say there was nothing she could do. And then, in that moment -

“I think that's quite enough, Erice.”

Another newcomer – a woman, who had not been in the classroom – strolled towards us, calling out to me with uncomfortable familiarity. Her footsteps clacked on the floor as she approached.

“Welcome. Your arrival is earlier than I had expected.” Ms. Fujimura, who had been maintaining a position of neutrality in our argument, greeted her in an oddly forced tone of voice.

“It was your message that hurried me here, Caren. You said that I might have the opportunity to see something interesting.” She was dressed in a vintage black sailor uniform, and her long silver hair was left to hang freely. I knew this woman – this woman who looked so out-of-place in Akihabara, who clad herself in an elegant shroud of bygone days.

“Chitose... What...what are you doing here...?”

Now it made sense. Caren's urgent matter must have been her.

The girl in the hat must have caught my murmured whisper. “Chitose...? What kind of civilian could call directly on a municipal administration AI without an appointment...?”

I heard the rushing sound of an intake of breath, and she turned sharply back around to the woman once more. Now that they were standing face-to-face, her small frame meant that she had to crane her neck to look her in the eyes.

“You aren't...Manazuru Chitose, are you...? The Stigmata?”

“...I am indeed. It's been a while since I last heard that name.”

The girl let out a whimper. “How could this happen...”

Her reaction was so violent, I thought for a moment that they might have been about to duel it out on the spot. In stark contrast to her brief reverie, now she was tripping over herself to be polite. She scrambled backwards three paces, and lowered her head woodenly. Her ears were glowing bright red, and from the glimpses I could catch through her bangs her cheeks were similarly flushed.

One of her fingers brushed against the side of her hat. With a swish, it folded in on itself and collapsed into a hairband. With her face now exposed, she bowed her head once more.

“I apologise wholeheartedly for my insolence, Stigmata.”

Chitose only shook her head quietly. “You had business with Caren, did you not? I do not mind waiting a while.”

“I-it was nothing! Certainly, nothing of consequence next to your duties.” She was so stiff and anxious now, her haughty demeanour not two minutes ago seemed like a distant memory. It was actually a little adorable - although in general, I found people's tendency to become so ill at ease in Chitose's presence rather hard to deal with.

For her part, Chitose might have been responding amiably, but that should not have been mistaken for warmth or compassion. Her gaze fell upon the boy seated at our table, and for an instant, her eyes were those of a serpent that had found its prey.

“Yes, that's the boy”, she said, as though talking to herself. “I can't even tell which class his Saint Graph is. I suppose the world is full of surprises.”

I confess - my interest was aroused, and I couldn't suppress a sadistic curiosity. What reaction would her gaze stir in him? Would he show awe? Animosity? Would he ignore her completely, as though erasing his own existence?

But instead – he smiled. A beaming smile, like a shining star. A clear window straight to his heart.

Silence reigned for a second, and then Chitose smiled back at him thinly. Next to me, I felt the girl with the hat flinch. And then, her expression relaxing into a slightly mischievous smile, she approached me, and laid a pale white fingertip on my shoulder.

“I charge you with monitoring this child, Erice.”

“Understood”, I muttered. She gave a small shrug at my disgruntled response.

It looked like our conversation was over. Once Chitose had made a clear decision, my master would abide by it. I stood up from my seat, bowed to my master, and accompanied the boy from the terrace as I'd been instructed.

“Who the hell was that?”, Karin asked breezily, once we were in the corridor. “Gave me the creeps.” Just this once, I was grateful for her laid-back demeanour.

“And what's up with you, anyway? Didn't you have something to ask Caren about? You sure you're ok just leaving like this?”

“It doesn't matter. Let's just go.”

I put the building behind me, as though I were running away from something.

#Fate/Requiem #translation #light novel

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