The party had to rest overnight at Keterburg because a blizzard out of nowhere had temporarily grounded the Albiore. It was expected to blow over by morning, so they had booked rooms at the inn.
When Luke saw Asch nearly hidden in the crowd heading into the inn before them, he supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised. If one flying machine had been grounded by the storm, then it only made sense that the only other in existence would be as well. Asch seemed to have business everywhere nowadays.
He should have told the rest of the group about it, but between the thick snow and the throng of people none of them had noticed Asch, and this was too perfect an opportunity for him to pass up. He needed to talk to Asch. He told himself that he could tell them later, but he knew that after he finished, Asch would either be gone again or they wouldn't have to keep waiting around for these fleeting chances to see him. Either way it would be a moot point.
The receptionist had been overjoyed to supply Asch's 'brother' with the spare key to 'their' room after his wonderfully told sob story of being left behind in the ice and snow while 'big brother' ran ahead to the warm inn. The same face that made Guy fold every time worked just as well on her. The hardest part had been getting her to let go of him and convincing her not to follow along and give Asch a piece of her mind.
He hadn't been expecting any of this, so he had no plan. He only had that irrational need for Asch to join them, him. If he could just get Asch to listen!
Should he knock? But Asch would never knowingly let him in. And if Asch said no, then he let himself in anyway, there would be no talking with him. So it would be better not to give him the chance to say no.
He took two deep, slow breaths before rushing to open the door, dart in, and shut the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, panting, and made himself look at Asch.
"I know you hate me, but-" The words came tumbling out, one on the heels of the next, nearly incomprehensible. He couldn't give Asch any time to talk, any time to refuse yet again, to kick him out before he finished. But Asch had other ideas.
Asch's quick stride made sort work of the room. Before Luke could register anything else, Asch was looming immediately before him, just barely not touching. He leaned forward slowly and put his mouth right next to Luke's ear. Luke was paralyzed by shock, unable to do anything but listen. He had no idea what would happen next, no idea what he wanted to happen next.
"Do you remember what I told you last time you said that?" Asch whispered.
Luke broke the spell-like trance only long enough to shake his head slightly before being captured by the moment again. Asch shifted his stance, leaning a few inches backwards, but not quite far enough for Luke to be able to look him in the eyes, and started to recite.
"'Don't get me wrong. It's not for your sake. I'm just using you.'" Asch's head had turned enough that Luke could feel his eyelashes shutting against his neck. Asch's hand reached back, then up, but Luke knew what was coming next now. Memories of another night at Keterburg, outside in the snow talking with Asch, came floating across his mind.
He scrambled backwards, but couldn't get away as his back slammed hard against the door. His assurance that Asch would not escape had suddenly become Asch's assurance that he could not escape.
"'I'm just using you. If you ever say that again I'll kill you.'" Asch's eyes snapped open as he finished, intently focused on Luke. The only way Luke could think of to describe it at that moment was bloodlust with an absolute lack of rage. Not that he had much time to be thinking of descriptions while trying to get away from that unnatural look and deadly calm.
His movement had put just enough space between him and Asch for Asch to be able to easily bring the knife up between them, but not enough room for him to be able to dodge to the side before Asch slashed it hard against his throat and drove it into his heart.
Luke was transfixed by the hilt sticking out of his chest, unable to stop staring at it. His last thought as he slid down the door and the world twisted and faded around him was that blood was a bitch to clean out of his white coat. Tear was going to kill him for getting it dirty again.
"I'm a man of my word," Asch said haughtily to the body. He watched it a moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied, "But not an unnecessarily cruel man," he admitted, since there was no one around to hear.
Asch rummaged through his travel bags on the bed. Having found what he was looking for, he walked back over to Luke. He uncorked the bottle, and a brilliant light flooded the room.
Luke awakened to searing pain in his throat and burning in his chest, surrounded by blinding white light. The sort of direct empty-black to searing-white transition that only occurred during a resurrection. Another battle? He wondered how he had been caught off guard this time. A battle of sorts, his mind supplied, before the memories kicked in full force and he gaped at Asch.
"You- You killed me!" Luke almost regretted how stupid the words sounded aloud, but he couldn't get over it. Did Asch always have to be so absolutely, relentlessly literal?
"Yes, but at least I didn't leave you dead."
"But! You-"
Asch had turned back to his bed and was rummaging through his bags again with his back to Luke.
"And don't make me regret that decision."
Luke shut his mouth fast, wincing as his teeth cracked together at an awkward angle. Rather than the fear Asch likely hoped that statement would cause, he felt only confused comprehension beginning to dawn. They were alone, and it was such a stupid, risky situation to put himself into, because it left the decision to either resurrect him or walk away with no consequences whatsoever entirely up to Asch.
But to waste a life bottle on someone he hated? Luke's mouth opened to ask for clarification, but then closed again when the full impact of exactly what the point was that Asch had been trying to get across with this little stunt slammed into him. Asch apparently felt strongly about Luke saying that Asch hated him, strongly enough to kill him to get him to stop saying it. Luke blinked, unable to move past the concept of Asch not hating him. He opened his mouth again, this time unsure of what he wanted to say, but was cut off before he could even come close to finding words.
"Leave. Now."
"But I-" His earlier mission came rushing back to him then, taking priority over expressing his new epiphany. He hadn't even gotten close to finishing what he had come here for.
"I know," Asch said abruptly with a gesture towards his head, "You're too loud. And I'll," he paused and restarted in a tone less haughty and more seriously contemplative than Luke had ever heard from him before, "I'll think about it."
Luke's joy at the sudden change in attitude erased almost every other thought from his mind. He was fumbling for the doorknob when something hit him from behind and draped over his head.
He made a questioning noise and looked up, only to see one of Asch's shirts covering his head, then peeked out over his shoulder to see Asch watching his confusion in amusement. Asch gestured for him to look down. He did, but all he saw was his red coa- Right. Walking out of Asch's room with his once-white coat soaked in blood would probably be a bad idea. Especially with the large knife-wound hole on the front.
Luke changed as quickly as he could, leaving the bloody mess of his coat for Asch to deal with. If he was going to make a mess, he could by all means clean it up himself. Not that Luke held any hope of that particular coat being anything close to clean ever again. Asch'd probably just burn it as soon as he was gone, and if the inn was lucky he'd actually bother to take it outside before setting fire to it.
Luke was humming by the time he was done, unable to contain his glee at his small victory, but also unable to express it in other ways without risking bringing back Asch's wrath. At the very least, Asch considering it was more of a concession than Luke had ever gotten from him on the topic before. And in an almost pleasant tone, too. Luke had known being in the same room together would be nice, once Asch figured out how not to be angry and sullen all the time.
Luke was feeling in such good graces that he even pretended to ignore the way Asch bumped into him on his way to open the door, supposedly in a hurry to remove Luke from his chamber. Asch didn't go out of his way for physical contact with anyone, especially not people he despised.
So even if it was a rude action, Luke knew that wasn't what Asch meant by it. And while teasing him about it would have been fun, and probably have lead to more jostling around, Luke didn't feel like spoiling the smile he knew his mere presence usually erased from Asch's face. It was quite the rare treat for him to behold, and he found himself not even wanting to hold back the answering smile on his own lips.
He supposed that the others would tell him that the whole killing thing should probably have engendered, at the very least, some lingering hard feelings, but he couldn't, and didn't want to, hold on to any of those. Besides, it was Asch, and as previously pointed out, he was alive now. Luke would just have to make sure that the others never found out about this little escapade of his.
But then he was distracted from his thoughts by Asch holding the door open for him, and staring pointedly. The smile that he probably didn't know about himself, otherwise it would already be gone, still lingered.
Luke scurried out before he could possibly do anything else stupid to ruin the moment, waving goodbye until he couldn't see Asch anymore. The last glimpse he caught was of Asch rolling his eyes at Luke's admittedly childlike behavior.
Then he was hurrying down the halls of the inn, trying to find where his friends had booked for the night. The only thing that kept him from thinking that the last few minutes had been a bizarre hallucinated dream caused by Jade slipping something experimental into his food was the shirt, Asch's shirt, his excited mind told him for the thousandth time, on his back.