When they first entered the room, the only concern he had was how small the chair was. There was only one bed, which he was perfectly fine with reserving for the child. There was a chair to the side of the room right next to the window, but it looked like it was too small for someone his height to sit in comfortably. He was a tower compared to many of the people down here, but this was starting to get very annoying.
The child, still clinging onto his hand, let out a sleepy yawn. The Batter responded by taking a step further into the room. Within moments the child crawled into the bed and the lights were turned off, and the Batter settled himself–rather reluctantly–into the chair, letting his bat lean against the side of it. It was definitely small, though not as small as he originally thought, and he let himself relax slightly as he turned his gaze out the window.
The snowflakes were still falling and the Batter could not help but think about the predicament he landed himself in. He, a purifier, somehow ended up in a new world. And not only did he now have to drive out the corruption he found, like he'd done previously, he now also had to take care of a child that had a rather interesting set of abilities.
Not only that, but this world seemed a lot more…whimsical than the last. The corruption here was not completely noticeable at first, but he knew that there were ways for it to show through, in the way people acted and reacted, how they treated others–he had a keen eye for it. But instead of driving it out with brute force, the child was able to purify through acts of kindness. Mercy was a proving to be a formidable weapon, as ironic as it might have seemed.
If only the Zones could see him now, going all soft.
The Batter's thoughts were interrupted by a noise in the dark room. He almost instinctively reached for his weapon when he realized that it was just the rustling bed covers. The child was crawling out of bed for whatever reason, and their bare feet patted across the floor as they made their way to his position. They stopped before him and he could barely make out the child's expression in the shadows.
"What is it?" he grunted.
The child only responded by glancing at the wall. The Batter followed suit and then understood; there was a loud snoring that he did not notice before coming from the only other room in the inn. He let out an annoyed sigh before he turned back to the child. They glanced up at his face, then at the chair, and then they took a step closer.
"No," the Batter argued, immediately knowing what they wanted. "Don't–"
But the child was already climbing up onto the chair and he had to pull them onto his lap in order to keep them from falling off or hurting their self. They leaned against his chest and closed their eyes, leaving him alone in his thoughts again. How strange it was that a human child he hardly knew trusted him wholeheartedly even though they had only met earlier that day. They seemed so calm despite the danger their own soul brought to them.
For a brief, fleeting moment, a memory of a young boy dressed in red surfaced to the forefront of his mind, but he quickly shoved the thought away forcefully. What was done was done, what was in the past could no longer be changed. It would not do well for him to dwell on such memories. Instead he focused on the child that was sleeping against him, desperately telling himself not to become attached to his young charge.
This mission would not last long. Once this Underground was purified and free of corruption, his service would no longer be needed, and then he would…
Don't get attached.
The Batter lifted his hand and ever-so-gently placed it on the back of the child's head. They let out a soft, content sigh and curled further against him, and he could feel small fingers cling onto the fabric of his tunic. He shifted so that now he was supporting the child better and keeping them balanced on his lap. They did not stir from whatever dream they were in, in fact they seemed very much at peace.
Don't get attached, the Batter told himself.
It was starting to feel like it was a little too late for that.