Rewrite the Stars.
(Mistilteinn: The Early Years)


Mitsuru x Kokoro
Fanfic by:
Blue Trinkets.


Chapter 1: Fate.

They have started to build walls around Cerasus. He has passed by the heavy machinery digging and drilling giant piles into the ground on his way here. In the foreseeable future, the whole city will be covered with a metal dome.

And freedom such as this, riding his bike, will be a forgotten memory.

Mitsuru removed his goggles and stuffed it into his saddlebag, he looked around the desolate parking space as he tugged at the fingers before pulling off his gloves.

He untied the strap of his helmet and took it off, savoring that fleeting feeling of freedom as the breeze from the sea ruffled his dark hair. For a moment he looked up at the sky and inhaled deeply, the scent of brine was heavy in the air.

His attention now drawn to the quiet scene of the beach, Mitsuru brushed back the loose locks of hair that fell on his forehead, but it was no use, the breeze just ruffled it again and this time he simply ignored it.
The deep blue of the water and the white sands dotted with shells was as serene as he remembered. The place was deserted, not a soul in sight, but that was fine by him. He came here to be alone.

Once, he had thought of bringing her here. Just the two of them. Though she'd probably be more interested to explore the nearby cliffs just to see what native flowers and plants grew there. God, the last gift she'd asked of him was a damn watering can.

But that was more than two years ago. A time when he still knew what happiness was. It now felt like a lifetime ago.

Feeling a bit too warm, Mitsuru shrugged off the black aviator jacket and tied its arms around his waist. Out of habit, he hid the silver ring suspended on a chain inside his gray shirt. It didn't amount much to anything, but the ring was his only most treasured possession left, and protecting it from would-be thieves had become second nature.

Mitsuru smiled almost ruefully as his stomach rumbled, boy was he hungry. He should have brought something, or at least eaten his breakfast. But this morning, he'd been more restless than usual.

A long drive on his good old Harley usually soothed him, but not today.

He looked at the quiet village nestled atop the cliffs. He wasn't sure if a small community such as this would have food services, but it won't hurt to try.

A cool breeze greeted him as he walked up the stone steps leading to the village. Mitsuru was at the top of the stairs when he paused. He hadn't given much thought how the residents would take his presence there. What if he's intruding? What if they turn out to be hostile?

Shit. He has no weapon, except for the knife he always carried. In the right hands, the knife can be pretty lethal. But what good will that do if his foes carried guns? Fuck.

He was about to turn around and leave when he heard the voice of an old man to his right.

"Son, if you're lost we can help."

Mitsuru sighed a little in relief as more residents showed up. They looked harmless, ordinary normal folks. But something niggled at the corner of his mind. Before he could form the connection, an old lady walked up to him.

"We don't have much visitors these days, where were you heading?" She asked, her expression weathered, but kind.

"I'm not lost, ma'am. I was just passing by in the hopes of finding a place to eat." Mitsuru said politely.

"Ah, you're welcome to drop by my place. We don't have anything fancy, but it'd be warm and filling." The old lady gestured for him to follow.

Mitsuru smiled and bowed slightly at the old man before walking after the lady. A part of him was still wary of his surroundings, but his instincts weren't warning him of any danger...and for some reason, he felt so much at home.

More people showed up at their doorsteps as they passed by the houses. Curious glances, but nothing malicious. It was then that Mitsuru connected the dots, that niggling thought he couldn't form before. There were no young people in the village. Everyone was at least in their 60's.

"Um, ma'am." Mitsuru looked around again, wondering if he's mistaken. "May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, sonny." She stopped before a charming brick and stone cottage with filigreed window grills. It looked old but so rustic like those he'd seen in books.

"I haven't seen any young people around. What happened to them?"

"War." The old man from earlier answered behind Mitsuru.

"That's right." The old lady replied. "With the recent war against the Klaxosaurs, APE took our children away from home, from us. They were forced to enlist. The only ones left are what few young children—our grandchildren, who were allowed to stay...until they're old enough to pilot."

"We all dread the day they'll take away our kids, but...what can a bunch of old folks do?"

-o-

An excerpt from a status report sent by Dr. Franxx to the APE council.

" ...In regards to the Memory Alteration Project, we were able to remove newly formed memories, but searching and eliminating old ones may take some time yet.

I am well aware that the current system of selecting suitable Stamens are far too costly and time-consuming.

Recent records show that sexual intimacy between pilots enhances the performance of the Franxx, but the cons outweigh the benefits. Pistils are known to get attached to their Stamens and would refuse any partner shuffle. The possessive nature of the Stamens works for the current system. But in the long term, this would be problematic.

Based on current research, pregnant Pistils are far too emotionally unstable to pilot a Franxx. The instability affects their mental connection with their partners, making them liabilities in the field. A permanent solution would be sterilization, but a Franxx cannot be operated by Parasites without functioning reproductive organs.

I have deducted from the gathered data that the most simple solution would be to eliminate any sexual/intimate relationships between Parasites. This would solve both the birth control issues and the emotional volatility of the Parasites..."

-o-

Nothing about his ride was peaceful. He had hoped to find escape by riding to the beach, but instead, Mitsuru was made to face the harsh reality of their situation. No one was safe anymore it seems.

The Parasite screening became mandatory about three years ago. Before that, Parasites were mostly volunteers, lured by the promise of a carefree life after service as Franxx pilots.

Who wouldn't be drawn by such promises only the elite citizens were enjoying right now? They don't have to worry about their food, their security, or shelter. Everything's provided for them.

But then again, not everyone wants that sterile life. What's to like in a life where they can no longer taste their food or enjoy intimacy with a partner?

Mitsuru parked his bike and paused for a moment, looking up at the boarding house. It reminded him of the houses back at the village in the cliffs. Both were probably constructed in the same time period, both had the charming, rustic but elegant look.

Yet the peaceful ambiance presented by the boarding house's quiet facade was just an illusion.

This place serves as the new home of the Parasites undergoing training. This Spring will be the start of their senior year, just one more year and they'll be sent on real missions after graduation.

Mitsuru paused before the double doors. This place has become both his home and hell on earth. There were nights he missed his old life, and then there were the other boys.
Goro the four-eyed blond, he thought with fondness, was like their big bro. Hiro was mature beyond his years and was their go-to for advice. Then there was impetuous Zorome, the youngest of them all who volunteered to be a Parasite. Though he'd never admit it, Zorome joined because Miku was drafted under the mandatory rule.

Mitsuru was an only child, so he'd come to treasure this close relationship with the others, they've become the siblings he never had. With them around, he was able to cope somehow.

He was about to head to his room but then paused at Hiro's door to check up on his friend. Mitsuru knocked before testing the doorknob which wasn't locked.

Goro was in the room, leaning on the opposite bed as he spoke to Hiro. Their faces looked grim, telling him immediately that something was definitely wrong.

"Hey." Mitsuru greeted as he walked in. "What's up? How you're feeling, Hiro?"

"A little better, thanks." Hiro said, rubbing his black hair, but his eyes were troubled.

"Got a bit of bad news." Goro murmured, handing Hiro's phone to Mitsuru.

He scanned the message, his brows knotting into a frown the more info he read.

"Let me take this one, bro." Mitsuru murmured as he placed Hiro's phone back on the table.

"I can't let you do that." Hiro grunted as he sat up straighter. There were bruises on his ribs and chest, but the cut on his jaw was the worst offender.

"This is like, what? The fourth one this week?" Mitsuru tried to reason, "Been feeling antsy lately, I'm raring to beat the shit out of someone."

"Let us help, Hiro." Goro joined in. "You're in no condition to face anyone right now. Just think of the consequences if you lost."

Hiro closed his eyes, feeling so helpless.

"C'mon bro, it's not like you won't do the same for any of us. Let us help you." Goro persuaded.

"Let me at least come with you." Hiro grunted again as he swung his legs to the floor. He ached all over.

Mitsuru looked at Goro who silently indicated Hiro's not budging on that one.

"Fine, but you're riding with me." Mitsuru sighed.

"I thought you said you'll never ride double?" Hiro couldn't help tease, then winced as the laughter made his ribs ache.

"Just shut up and get dressed, man." Mitsuru snorted then walked out of the room.

"That guy..." Goro shook his head, "he won't fight for his partner, but he won't hesitate to jump in for any of us. He confuses me."

"Mitsuru has his reasons, I'm sure." Hiro clenched his teeth as he pulled a gray shirt over his head.

"You okay?" Goro asked in concern. "Maybe you should sit this one out. We can handle those punks."

"I can't let you guys fight alone." Hiro stiffly hitched his pants up and buttoned it.

Goro conceded with a sigh, knowing once Hiro was set on something, there's no changing his mind. "Take your medicine first."

Zorome was waiting at the garage, dressed up in a black leather jacket and dark jeans like the rest of his friends.

"Time to kick some ass!" He grumbled, punching his fist against his palm.

"At least someone looks happy." Goro murmured as he got on his bike.

"Can you ride, Hiro?" Zorome asked, watching the slow way Hiro walked. "Man, those ribs must hurt like hell."

"I'm fine." Hiro said, though his face said otherwise.

"He's riding with me." Mitsuru replied as he adjusted his helmet then gave the throttle a boost.

From the second floor of the boarding house, a dark-haired girl fidgeted with her white hair clip.

"The boys are heading out again." Ichigo said as she looked out the window.

"They've been doing this every night now." Miku said, joining Ichigo at the window.

Behind them, a pretty girl with stunning green eyes paced like a caged tiger. The girl was so agitated, she almost ripped the nail off her thumb with her teeth.

"Zero Two...stop that." Miku touched her hand and gently pulled it away from her mouth. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Why can't they leave my Darling alone?" She said through gritted teeth. "I'd kill them myself."

"Zero Two..."

"You know how it is." Ichigo sighed. "It's survival of the fittest. That's how they eliminate the weak, only the strongest Stamens will make it to graduation."

"Why can't they pick on someone else?! It's not like I'm the only goddamned Pistil in school!"

"Sorry...didn't mean to shout like that." Zero Two covered her eyes with her hand. The urge to follow the boys and fight herself was getting stronger each time Hiro was made to face a new challenger. The violence was escalating. She had seen the cuts, the bruises he sustained from those fights.

Perhaps it's time she got involved, after all, it's not right that only Hiro was fighting for both of them.

"We know you're worried for Hiro." Miku touched her hand. "But the others are with him, they won't let him fight alone...this time."

"Can't believe they'll stoop that low." Ichigo muttered. "Couldn't beat him single-handed, so they ganged up on him."

There was a moment of frustrated silence as each dealt with their own worry and concern for the boys who rode out.

"You look so calm, Ikuno." Miku observed as the girl with glasses sat on her bed, nose buried in a book as usual. "Aren't you worried for Mitsuru?"

"He's not fighting for me, so why should I worry?" Ikuno simply said. Ichigo waved her hand at Miku and gave her a pointed look before the redhead could speak again.

Before Ikuno arrived, Mitsuru had been partnered with other Pistils, all who were later shuffled to a different boarding house after he refused to fight any challenger for them.

"Hey...I heard just this morning...Kokoro will be joining us next week, is that true?" Miku said suddenly, distracting the other girls.

"It's true." Ichigo confirmed. "APE has set the mandatory Parasite score from 500 to 1000 recently, so she and Naomi got drafted."

"She scored at 556, huh?" Miku said, "I don't know if I'm happy or sad. Kokoro never liked fighting...hope she'll be alright."

"We will support her any way we can." Ichigo patted Miku's shoulder. "She's our friend too."

-o-

The parking lot was deserted long before sunset, the lone streetlight was the only illumination, and it flickered at best, goes out for about 10 seconds at worst, before it lights up again to repeat the erratic cycle.

The place was littered with all kinds of refuse - boxes, paper, worn out furniture, old vehicles. Not even a stray dog dared loiter around.

Mitsuru looked around for what they could use as additional weapons. He found a wooden crate and began to fill it with empty bottles scattered on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Zorome asked, looking at him as if he has gone mad. "This isn't the time to go shopping."

"How good is your aim?" Mitsuru asked instead.

"So, so. Why?"

"Keep those punks always within range, they start acting funny, bombard them with these bottles. They'll love you for it."

"Oooh, you fight dirty." Zorome chuckled.

"They started this. Look at Hiro." Mitsuru jerked his head to where Goro and Hiro stood quietly talking. "They almost got him, if we haven't made it on time, he'd be in deep shit right now."

"Yeah, 3 to 1 wasn't fair." Zorome grunted. "Shouldn't we report them for violating the rules?"

"What rules?" Mitsuru snorted. "There's only one. Eat or be eaten."

He walked over to an old wooden chair and gave it one swift kick before prying one of its legs off the seat. He swung it once and again, to test its weight before breaking the rest of the legs.

"In case you lose your main weapon, always keep backups." He murmured to Zorome who was still looking at him curiously. "Best ones are those that hide in plain sight, like these."

"When you've been fighting scum for a while, you'll pick up a thing or two to even out your advantage." Mitsuru smiled.

"They're here."

-o-

"You sure you got him good last night?" A youth of nondescript features asked his companions as they slowly walked through the darkened street.

"Yes Niwatori, his friends showed up so we had to run off, but he was badly beaten."

"Good. This shouldn't be too hard." Niwatori smirked.

"Don't forget to pay us." Someone from the back reminded.

"Yeah, yeah." Niwatori waved his hand nonchalantly.

They entered the parking lot and cursed when they saw a group of four instead of a single boy.

"Tsk." Niwatori muttered, "Who tattled?"

"No one! After last night he must have wisened up."

"Well, no matter." Niwatori mumbled, but his steps were no longer as confident as he was earlier.

He surveyed the group of boys waiting beside an old car. He recognized Hiro from the injuries he sustained on his face, but instead of him, another boy shrugged off his black jacket and laid it on the hood of the car, then walked out of the group to face him.

This one was clearly uninjured, his green eyes gleamed despite the dim light with excitement and had an air of menace that sent shivers down his spine.

"You're not Code 016." Niwatori stammered, his eyes looking behind him to where Hiro stood with two others.

"Hiro's here, but you'll be facing me first." Mitsuru smiled, but his smile didn't soften his features, if anything, his smile only highlighted his menacing aura.

It made the punk uneasy. "What? Are you here for Iota as well?"

"No, you stupid fuck. We've seen what you guys been doing, sending your boneheads to weaken Hiro before the main event. Well as long as Hiro makes the final blow, it should still count, right? I'll break your arms and legs first."

"You guys fight without honor." Niwatori had the nerve to accuse.

"Cry me a river, Code Shithead. Don't forget who started this first." Mitsuru smirked as he cracked his knuckles. "Or are you too afraid to fight me?"

His pride won't let him back out now, Niwatori cursed his inept friends for failing him.

Mitsuru had a simple strategy when it comes to fist fights. Dodge and defend. It's when his opponent has depleted his strength, and his reflexes became sluggish that Mitsuru closes in for the kill. Some may say it's a dirty tactic, but hey, who's keeping score?

The silver stud earring on Niwatori's ear however, distracted him, it looked so much like the one he gave her. For the briefest instant, he wondered why Niwatori would have it? Mitsuru lost focus and before he knew it, Niwatori landed his fist against his left cheek. Somehow he managed to keep his balance, and gingerly touched the sore side of his face.

"That's all you got?" Mitsuru laughed, the sound of it more shocking than any insult he could come up with. "You hit like a girl."

With a cry of outrage, Niwatori charged at him, swinging his arm to hit Mitsuru again on the face, but this time he dodged the fist and used Niwatori's own momentum to throw him off balance. With a swift kick to the ass, Mitsuru sent him sprawling to the concrete ground with a sickening thud.

Before Niwatori could regain his balance, Mitsuru hit the back of his knees with a baseball bat. A god-awful scream filled the air as the injured man collapsed back to the floor.

"Are we having fun yet?" Mitsuru spat on the ground, his tongue gingerly feeling for any damage done to his mouth. The punk was slowly crawling away, trying to escape. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stepped on Niwatori's shoulder blade and began to add pressure to it with the heel of his boot.

"Don't move or I'll break your arm. Don't even breathe."

"No more!" Niwatori cried out, "I accept defeat."

"What the hell? Giving up already?" Mitsuru was tempted to kick him nevertheless, bloodlust ran through his veins, inciting him to commit more violence, but he stopped himself.

He nodded at Hiro who slowly walked over, "Withdraw your challenge. Do it now."

Niwatori pulled out his phone and logged into the Parasite bulletin board with shaky hands.

"Any of you punks want to challenge Hiro for Zero Two? Let's settle it here and now, let's not waste any more time." Goro spoke for the first time, scanning the huddled group who was too shaken up to even help Niwatori get back on his feet.

"None? Good choice, gentlemen." Mitsuru applauded them with insulting slowness. "Next time we meet, only the coroner will be tending you once we're through."

"Mitsuru." Hiro said, inclining his head towards the entrance of the parking lot.

With the dim light, he could make out the shadowed outline of another group of boys, this one was larger than Niwatori's, probably eight to ten. Word of Hiro's injury must have spread around and a couple of the cowards thought to take advantage of his current weakness.

"Bunch of gutless bastards." Mitsuru spat on the ground again then looked at his friends. "You guys ready?"

"We were born ready." Goro said, flexing his arm, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

-o-

It was well past midnight by the time they got back to the boarding house. Bloodied, bruised but so elated the girls who stayed up for their return threatened to kick their collective asses themselves.

They turned the common room into a makeshift infirmary of some sort.

"Hey, where are you going?" Goro called to Mitsuru who paused at the door's threshold.

"I'm hogging the bathroom all by my awesome self." Mitsuru looked back with a smile, the cut on his lip has long since dried.

Miku and Ichigo looked at each other, not knowing how to help him, Mitsuru obviously needed some care too. But Ikuno made it clear she didn't want anything to do with him.

"Mitsuru...wait." Hiro gasped, then winced as Zero Two cleaned the fresh cut on his cheek.

"Hey, I know what you want to say, but you wouldn't let your girlfriend touch another boy's body, would you?" He grinned at them. "Thought so...guys, stop looking at me that way. I'll live." He added with a small laugh.

"At least take something for the pain." Hiro called out, before hissing again as Zero Two touched his bruised hand, he had skinned his knuckles. She began to tenderly blow on it in an attempt to soothe the pain away.

"I hear you." Mitsuru waved a hand without looking back then headed for the bathroom.

Mitsuru clenched his teeth as he undressed, thinking he may have overdone things a bit. The warm water felt like a benediction from the heavens itself as he stood beneath the shower, letting it wash away blood, grit, and grime before grabbing the soap.

He braced his hands against the wall as he tried to relax, letting the water rinse him, but experience has taught him it would be near impossible. When the bloodlust of battle transforms into another kind of lust, that's when he'd want her the most. He'd lived off on the memories of the kisses he'd taken those stolen moments, but times like this, when his blood still raged with adrenaline, and excess energy fueled every muscle of his body...he ached, ached for Kokoro with a raw force that threatened his very sanity.

He reached for the ring on his chest and felt his blood freeze in an instant when his hand encountered only bare skin, no chain, no ring.


A/N: Yup, the beach and village was based on episode 7. I've always wanted to see the boys as bikers. Haha. These boys got to know how to fight with their fists first, right? I mean they'll all be clumsy piloting mecha if their physical coordination was rather poor. xD

Niwatori means chicken, at least according to google. lol I think that name is very appropriate.

That said, this story is inspired by the first ending theme where Kokoro stood before a wall lined with graffiti. Yeah, got to love the girls in school uniform. :D

The strange title was derived from the song, which also served as my muse for the story. It should really be Mistilteinn: The Early Years. But until now I can't memorize the correct spelling lol.