DISCLAIMER: I don't own OreGaIru. All rights go to its author Wataru Watari.
State 0: Alphabet
{Present Day}
I've always enjoyed being in the background.
"Dammit, Hayato! You can't keep fighting it like this!"
It was better than being in the limelight—better than being in the forefront. Besides, being out in the open has never really been my style.
"Renegade Jung is rapidly approaching Null State! Shutdown imminent!"
When you fight, give your all, and punch away the beasts while people gathered and beheld you in their sights, no matter what it was you did or the reasons you fought for—you would be judged, you would be put on a pedestal, to be venerated or be hated.
That was why no one person could ever be truly heroic.
"Shit! The Epsilon's getting ready for another attack! Hayato, get the hell outta there, you can't beat it!"
To be praised for vanquishing what they deemed evil. To be hated for those you failed to save. In the end, everything you are is built up only to be torn down and rebuilt again in an eternal cycle—as long as you stayed out in the open for the wolves to feast on.
"Hayato, dammit, retreat! You can't do anything about it! Get awa—shit! The Epsilon's attacking! Move it, Hayato!"
That was why I disliked being the center of attention. Everything around me screamed of expectation, opinion, imposition, boundaries, limits—they force ideals upon you, and craft an identity of their own design. You lose yourself in it, until there remains nothing more of you, and the principles you wanted to chase in the first place become buried and forgotten.
I walked calmly through the rubble, eyes trained on the back of the one person who's masked himself under so many guises he's lost sight of reality. Because he's been made to believe things that were never true of him, so many things that were impossible to impose on one lone man, he had become so disillusioned with the concept of being the one true hero.
What a self-absorbed bastard. I still can't believe I'm here to rescue him, out of all people. Then again, I didn't expect a lot of things after arriving in this world.
But it seems that even if the place was different, Hayama Hayato would always step up to fulfill expectations.
[Hikigaya-kun.]
After all this time, it was still a strange experience to hear her voice be so devoid of ice. "… What's the matter, Yukinoshita?"
[… Just… Don't be too hard on him. You do understand his thoughts, don't you?]
It was because I did understand that I had to make this as difficult for him as possible. He's hurt a lot of people I care about, and I'm not about to let it slide just because he was being influenced by a damn machine.
"You know me well enough that I'll be doing anything but give him a slap on the wrist. I'm going."
[I knew it.] If you did, then why ask anyways? Geez, what a bothersome girl. [Be safe, alright? Yuigahama-san also sends her regards.]
"… Yeah."
I stretched my arms out to the side, palms faced back, and pulled deep into the recesses of my mind. The wave of power washed over me, swirling out in a gust of black and red.
The sensation of it all was still so foreign to me, despite the numerous times I've been through this. Perhaps it was because I've never felt any sort of power before that gave me the chance to make a change. Perhaps it was because everything until now still screamed so much of fiction and lucid dreaming, that what was happening here was impossible—and yet it happened anyway.
Or perhaps it was just because making use of my armaments was the same as bearing all that I had deep in me, things I've long thought I've discarded and forgotten.
"Engaging Philosopher."
Plates of black coated my arms from the elbow down; my legs from the knees down. Gauntlets and greaves of obsidian coalesced with crimson outlines, shaped in a twisted fusion of draconian and machine-like resemblance.
Information flowed into me as simple as breathing. My senses turned sharper. Battle instincts put me on edge, and my reflexes got wired into high-gear.
"Finite State Automaton online. Deploying."
I rushed into the battered remains of Soubu High, arm cocked back and ready to tear a hole into the idiot and the beast.
Really, this wasn't at all what I expected the day I saved my world's Yukinoshita Yukino. My troubles really don't seem to have any end…
Hey.
Apologies for not having updated Schrodinger for a long while, but it seems that shortly after the new semester started for my third year, schoolwork poured out in unending torrents and I have been neck-deep in submissions, projects, exams, and the brunt of computing science topics. As fun as writing is, the semester has solidified just how taxing and effort-demanding my course is. But onward I fare!
Deterministic Finite Automaton was an idea conceived from one of my core subjects in Computer Science. Suffice to say, this fic would probably see updates far less frequently than my other work. Schrodinger's next chapter is already in the works from what small amount of free time I have, and I plan on releasing it soon after further polishing. DFA would have less priority—however, I do have a solid idea on what to do with it. Just imagine an unorthodox seinen/shounen AU, with an eventual combative, snarky, witty, and badass Hachiman. :P
Perhaps I just had to have this one published to see if an AU of this kind would interest anyone. I just love messing around with ideas and coming up with these unorthodox fics; if I could inspire people to write like this, then awesome!
'Til next time.