Those With Courage
The idea for this fic began when, some moons ago, I realized, "Holy shit! Roy's personality + 7 women equals harem!"
Unfortunately, not only am I out of HS now, the fairly large age range of the FE6 cast doesn't work very well with high school – the typical setting for AU. Thus, I decided on college.
Disclaimer: Yeah, right, like I own Fire Emblem. Nintendo and Intelligent Systems does…though, I might try buying Nintendo stocks, what with the wild success of the DS and the similarly anticipated success of the Wii.
' 'Sacaen speech, indicated as so if I'm too lazy to abuse Internet translations' ' (damn FFN won't let me use brackets)
Note: will periodically be interchanged with romaji (Japanese phonetically redone in English letters), which will be italicized and most decidedly not English words
Thoughts/emphasis/sounds/romaji if I feel it necessary to use those translators
"Speech"
Prologue: Trouble in Paradise
' 'So…how does it look, Yukyonoken-sama?' ' The question came from a young woman with short brown hair. She was dressed in a white lab coat, and was seated next to a computer, having turned away from it to address her companion.
A man with long black hair and a friendly demeanor shrugged in response, not turning his eyes from the folders he was sorting through. ' 'Did you not say you needed to practice the Western tongue? Or have you forgotten?' '
She blushed, then replied in a more muted tone, "But…it is easier when I speak our language. I can say my thoughts better…no, more clearly. And, besides…we are in our homeland." ' 'Why should we need to use a foreign language?' '
The man returned the files in his hands to their alphabetical order, and turned to face his compatriot. "It's not a matter of need, but of practice. Anyone in my position is well-served by knowledge of other cultures and languages – I do a great deal of travel, and I even work with foreigners on many occasions. I recall you saying you aspire to be like me…but even if that is not so, then perhaps you can do so in the spirit of academia.
"More importantly, though…I must confess I am more at ease when addressed less formally."
"…I…I am sorry…then…"
"Hikaru-san will do, as we have known each other since our undergraduate days…and I believe I have done all you asked me for. I must confess, I am a researcher, not a practicing doctor…but I have looked over those cases you requested, and your prognoses and treatments appear to be ideal. Even if you are pregnant, you remain competent, Futaba-san – you're not even in your second trimester yet, after all."
The woman blushed once more. "Th-thank you…but it feels impudent to call you by your first name…and since I've known you for so long, your foreign name would be-"
Sighing deeply, Hikaru rose from his seat and collected his briefcase. "Come now, Mitsune," he prodded, emphasizing his use of her given name. "You know I would sooner perceive that as familiarity than brusqueness, and I would be disappointed if an old friend of mine called me 'Karel'. Be more at ease.
"Well then, I must be going home. Farewell, Mitsune-san."
"Goodbye, Yukyo – I mean, Hikaru-san."
He smiled warmly in response, and shut the door behind him.
Hikaru strolled to the intersection at a leisurely pace. However exhausting and demanding his work was, it took more than mere work to call for haste – that was the among the first things he had learned after graduating from medical school.
When he stopped at the crosswalk, something in the far corner of his vision caught his attention. Turning around, he saw a pair of black cars pull up along the curb next to the private practice he had just left. …Futaba-san…what could be ….
A sharp jolt in his head caused him to cringe suddenly, and he shakily collapsed to his hands and knees. What…this is…no! Not now! Of all the times…damnit!
As he felt something slip, he vaguely remembered his sister's words concerning this phenomenon. She had been strangely calm, but he knew Akari (only he was allowed to use her native name anymore) too well to miss the subtle panic in her voice.
Dissociative identity disorder…but this is…
When the pain stopped, he rose once more. Reaching into his long black coat, he firmly squeezed the leather-bound metal case within once before withdrawing his hand. His stride was steady, light, and determined, the slow pace of one who has succumbed to a craving he cannot slake, a summons he cannot refuse.
The two men in suits outside the office noticed this, and one of them stepped forward to meet him. ' 'Hey, pal. What's the hurr-' '
A short, sharp blade jutting through his spine cut him short. His partner scrambled for his comlink, but his throat was sliced open before he could call for help. Stonily glaring at both of the corpses, Hikaru then turned his attention to his friend's personal practice. Another smile formed – this one, however, was devoid of the familiar warm happiness.
He marched forward and slashed the door in half, which turned the heads of the six gangsters inside, one of whom was currently roughing up the woman who ran this clinic. All of them paled at the sight of the pooling blood of their comrades outside.
' 'Welcome...to your nightmare,' ' he taunted the thugs, mockingly bowing before charging forward.
Surrounded by the wreckage of battle, the blood of his foes, their dead bodies permanently carrying their pain and despair…somehow, it seemed familiar. Like he had done this in a past lifetime. Not even the pain of a bullet in his off-arm could faze him or diminish the pulsing of his veins, the fill of blood he had just achieved.
But that was of no concern. A more important matter lay before him, separated from his right hand, screaming for mercy. Hikaru Yukyonoken was not one for smelling emotions, but a particularly distinct scent coming from the man on the floor before him was a sure sign of fear.
' 'W-w-wait, please! I surrender! I won't hurt anyone ever again! I'll leave right now! So please-!' '
The blade pressed to his neck quickly silenced him.
' 'Sate my thirst, whelp,' ' Hikaru taunted, baring a sadistic grin.
' 'My thirst for blood...' '
The man began to shake even more violently with fear, and he began to bawl once more, pleading for his life. The doctor's stony face did not change, and he idly noted, "Pathetic. All you are is a weakling who feigns strength. Merely a fool…"
Slicing the helpless thug's throat open, he casually noted, ' 'And fools…do not deserve life…' '
Turning to face the only one he had not attacked, his sanguinary chuckling returned. "You, too…you are weak…and foolish."
She began to tremble as the latest victim had, but her will and familiarity with Hikaru managed at least some degree of composure. "Hi-Hikaru-san…what is the meaning of this?" she softly whispered.
"Hikaru…hn. Hikaru is not here.
' 'That weakling...has become me...' '
Reality dawned on her, and Mitsune Futaba's eyes widened with fear and recognition. "K…no, your sister…does she-"
He responded with another deep, muted cackle. "Yes…she knows that I exist. She does not know, however, that I can do such things as this…"
"What? But…but weren't you-"
This is a bad idea. Bad idea. BAD FUCKING IDEA!
Despite the mental klaxons blaring in his psyche, Roy still did not run. He'd likely made a mistake coming here, but leaving now would make things far worse than never having shown up. Somebody else could have taken his place – he knew that Lilina had taken the time to know and befriend much of her father's house staff. He could have said that he needed sleep – the graduation party had been chaotic enough before Damas had started playing with his snap-open lighter near the keg (not touching alcohol that night had likely been the best decision Roy ever made – a suitable contrast to the situation he was now in). Hell, he could have never picked the phone up, and she would never have questioned him about it – it was already midnight, and he had just finished his nightly bath when the call came.
Damnit, a heart of gold is a pain in the ass, his inner cynic snarled. Nonetheless, he breathed deeply, reached for the furthest recesses of his composure, and stepped through the tall oak doors that a pair of servants held open – Bors and Barth, long-time employees of the Ostia family, if memory served – into a grand house that, now stripped of its patriarch, seemed eerily empty.
A middle-aged man with a full beard and a brown overcoat swaggered around from underneath the large banister that led upstairs. "Oh, it's you. The childhood friend, the brave soldier, the hero of our little tale. How's life been, Roy?"
The boy laughed and scratched the back of his head nervously in response. "Um, it's been alright, Asthor. I see your wit hasn't changed, at least. That's comforting."
The wry butler sniffed. "Comforts have been a rarity in the past few days. For me, they've usually come from glass bottles with foreign names. Thankfully, though, Bors knows a handy hangover cure…but onto other matters. There's a sobbing damsel up there, and she needs a knight in cotton and nylon to head up to the third floor. Get going, kid."
Roy quickly glanced down at his t-shirt and gym shorts and flushed lightly, softly muttering, "…Well, I can go up there, sure…but what do I do? Is there something only I can do that she called me here for?"
Asthor responded with an exaggerated cough, which Roy quickly caught the meaning to by shooting him an offended scowl. "…Well, you've been her closest friend for the last…what, ten years? She might know us fairly well, too, but there're always those age and generation barriers, y'know?
"Don't worry. Nice guys like you always know how to cheer people up. Just trust your instincts."
Breathing deeply for composure once more, Roy nodded with conviction. "Right. My instincts…thanks, Mr. Asthor."
The butler snorted. "You're the only one who addresses me like that around these parts, y'know. There's a reason for it, too."
Roy sighed and shook his head, his untamed red hair flailing about with his amusement. "I'm going, Mr. Asthor. See you later."
As the stolid redhead ascended the flights of stairs, the Ostia household's butler sighed and held his head in his right hand.
"I got this feeling there won't be any coming back from this…good luck, Roy."
--
Sighing shakily, Roy squeezed his eyes shut and tentatively raised his hand. He'd been careful to make his steps quiet, though the lush carpet simplified that task. There's nothing to be frightened about. I've been in there before, right?
Yeah…WHEN SHE WAS 12! Another portion of his mind screamed. When neither of you were legal, and didn't know a DAMN thing about sex!!
Still, either way, the only reason she called was because she trusts me this much, Roy reasoned.
The little devil in the back of his head sniggered. Or maybe she wants you to-
What the hell?! Damnit, I'm not taking advantage of her grief like that! For her sake, I've got to be calm about this. His mind set, Roy gently knocked on the door to Lilina's room. "Um, Lilina? I'm here. C-can I come in?"
Shuffling sounds came from the room, and the door swung away to reveal the orphaned young woman. Her pale ivory skin and delicately shaped features were framed by long, silken blue locks that were slightly ruffled at the moment, and normally bright and deep blue eyes were red with drying tears. Her bright pink lips trembled at the sight of her longtime friend, and she choked back a sob before nodding. "Yes…y-you can," she replied as she turned around to make her way back to her bed.
Shit,Roy mentally cursed. She really does look good without makeup…and to make things worse, she's wearing pajamas! Did those tailors intentionally make the thing hug her-
STOP RIGHT THERE! the benevolent (and ruling) portion of his mind furiously screeched. Perverted thoughts will only make this much harder than it already is! You're here to cheer her up, not for…other things!
Like what? Checking her out? His oft-latent id twitched his fingers in quotation marks to emphasize the statement, which made the other side of his mind growl indignantly. Seriously, we've known her for years. She'll trust us if we make a move…and we already know from past experience that she'd do nearly anything for our sake…
A rather prominent period came to mind, when he'd broken his leg in a basketball game. During this time, Lilina had driven him to school and helped him fulfill a number of errands he usually did on a regular basis, and had even offered to help him bathe, citing the difficulties the cast presented – in retrospect, he recalled that she had grown quiet and red-faced when she'd said that, and had remembered that the Pherae house staff could tend to that need. Naturally, he vehemently refused, not wanting to burden her so heavily and also being violently embarrassed by the prospect of disrobing in her presence. And why the hell did I remember THAT little detail?!
Why the fuck else? No matter what you say, you do want her, his id nonchalantly quipped.
"Um…Roy?"
He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. Damnit, he internally cursed, coloring with embarrassment. "Oh…sorry, Lilina. I really-"
She smiled tolerantly. "It…it's all right. I can understand if you're tired." Her gaze fell, and she quietly added, "I…I'm sorry. I asked you to come even though it's so late…I'm being selfish, aren't I?"
"Huh? No, no," Roy replied, shaking his head. "I'm really not tired, and there's no way I could sleep after you called me like that." Over the phone, she had sounded like she was crying, and that had been why he'd simply sprinted to the garage in the shorts and shirt he usually slept in. Oh crap…now that I think about it, I really should have worn something else…. Roy walked in and went for her desk chair to pull it over.
Lilina gave him a puzzled look. "Um…Roy? What are you-?"
He quickly turned to face her. "What? What is it, Lilina?"
"Um, why…why are you…"
"Oh…you want me to…" He finished by pointing at her bed, next to her seat. She nodded quickly, trying to hide her embarrassment by turning away. Taking his hand off the chair, he softly made his way over to the bedside, tentatively sitting next to her. Remember, she's doing this because she trusts you. Doing anything…wrong…would hurt her terribly.
"So, what's wrong?" Roy began. "Is it about…"
Lilina's gaze fixed itself on the floor, and her hair shifted forward to hide her eyes as she quietly replied, "Yes…
"At the graduation ceremony, when we were leaving, I saw so many students running out to greet their families. …They looked so happy. The families would be so proud of their child, and they'd be so excited about their future…it made me envious. It hurt to watch them have a happiness that I can't have anymore…" Her voice began to crack, and the tears spilled from her eyes once more. Oh God, Roy moaned. I hate seeing her cry…
"Oh…" Roy cringed, and quietly noted, "So that's why you weren't at the graduation party…"
She put on a pained smile in response. "Did you have fun, Roy?"
He shook his head. "It was too crazy. I got out as soon as I could – when Wolt got drunk half an hour after showing up, I knew things were going to get out of hand too fast. …I don't like abandoning my friends like that, but I never liked wild parties to begin with.
"It's a good thing I didn't, anyways," he added with a chuckle.
Lilina frowned at his words. "Why would that be bad?"
Nervously scratching the back of his head, he replied, "'Cause if I found out I was having fun while you were crying, I don't think I could live with myself for having abandoned you like that."
She flushed red upon hearing that, and a warmth washed over her heart as she stared at him in shock. Her surprise eventually gave way to an epiphany, and she smiled softly and closed her eyes, touching a hand to her heart as her tears fell once more.
"Lilina, why are you crying again?" Roy paused briefly, before adding, "…Did I say something that I shouldn't have?"
Lilina's blue locks flailed about as she shook her head. "No…it's alright.
"…But you've always been like this, haven't you…"
"Hm? Like what?" Roy inquired.
"You've always been so kind…and you're always willing to help me and be with me…even when we first met, that's what you've always done. It…it makes me so happy to have met you." When she opened her eyes, they sparkled with something that Roy, at the time, could not have put a name to. "…I'm so grateful to have you in my life," she quietly whispered.
Roy blushed, nervously scratching his neck. Well, that's an awfully convenient way to word it! "Please, Lilina. You're making me out to be an angel or something…all I do is try to support the people I love."
Lilina started, turning to face Roy with trepidation. "The…the people you…love?"
The redhead nodded. "Yeah! You know, my friends and family!" Oblivious to Lilina's slightly crestfallen expression, he continued, "The people I know and treasure, the ones I can be at peace and be myself around. The people I can share my secrets with, and the people I can rely on."
Looking on in awe, she watched him stand up and passionately continue. "Those people…they mean everything to me. That's why I want to do everything I can for them. I'll cheer them on, help them with their troubles, be there when they need me…and above all else, I'll protect them whatever the cost, because they're worth it!"
Roy turned around and saw Lilina covering her mouth, trying to hide her giggling. Shaking her head, she replied, "Wow…that was inspirational, Roy. I've never heard you talk like that before, not even when you were the student body president."
The redhead's face turned the hue of his hair as he nervously chuckled. "Heh…yeah, you're right…well, even a dog has its day, right? Besides, I'm not really eloquent or innovative…I just had a really good reputation.
"And everybody knew that the Student Council doesn't have a whole lot of pull over what we do, anyways, so it's not like I was really getting a whole lot done before I quit. It was more important to me to…" Roy realized his mistake and bit his tongue immediately, but the damage was done.
Lilina sighed dejectedly, her gaze falling to her bare feet. "Yeah…you quit when…when Father died, so you could be there for me. …I…I'm sorry. I should be stronger than this, shouldn't I? …I'm supposed to be my father's daughter…but all I did was cry. I…I'm pathetic…I'm just being a burden…"
"What? No!" Roy denied, clamping his hands on Lilina's shoulders as he began to try and do what he came to her room for – to cheer her up. "Grief is natural! It's supposed to hurt when someone you love dies, Lilina. It's not your fault, or because you're lacking something…"
Shaking his head, he continued more quietly, "Really, Lilina, you put yourself down too much. That's a terrible habit."
Suddenly, he flinched and colored as he realized where his hands were. SHIT! Not good!
As he tried to pull away, her hand gently laid itself on his wrist. His eyes widened. Wh-…what? What is she-? He watched with uncertain eyes as she quietly began, her silken blue hair concealing her beautiful azure eyes, veiling the emotions that her quivering voice betrayed. And why the HELL am I talking poetry?!
"Roy…you've always been there for me. Y-you've always been there to help me, no matter what it was. You've been so kind to me all these years…I could always turn to you…
"I…I don't know where I'd be without you…or what I would do if you weren't here for me…so please…"
What? Why is she…ugh…damnit, I wish I knew what went on in women's heads…. Asthor's words came unbidden in that moment of confusion, which really did not help. …Somehow, I get the feeling he's only trying to push us together…
"Um…what…what do you mean? We're going to the same college, and we have the same major. Why would you be scared about something like that?" Roy could only be baffled as to why she had these unfounded fears.
"My…I remember my mother telling me she and her sisters grew apart during college…I asked Father about it, and he told me that she always seemed regretful when she was contacted by one of them. It…it would hurt me so much…I don't want that to happen to us," she softly whispered. With a nervous, muted laugh, she continued, "I know you probably never worried about something like that…but could you promise me…?"
Roy worked his jaw once, then quickly replied, "Don't worry, Lilina. I wouldn't ever let that happen. We've known each other since we were little. We've been best friends all these years, and I'm not letting that end so easily."
An idea shot into his mind, and he snapped his fingers and shouted, "Yes! That's it!" Immediately, he then flushed red with the full realization of what he had just thought of, and turned away from Lilina.
"Huh?" The blue-haired young woman stood up and touched Roy gently on the shoulder. "What is it?"
"Um…I'd just thought that…y'know, we're gonna be living in the dorms, right?" She nodded, and he continued in an antsy voice, twiddling his fingers, "Well…that would probably make it harder to see each other…'cuz they're obviously gonna be separated. That's why I got that idea…but now that I think about it, that's a whole 'nother batch of problems…"
"Well, what is it?"
"Um…I thought of…I'd thought that if I meant that much to you, maybe we should just get an apartment and live together…"
Lilina blushed and set a hand over her fluttering heart when she heard his suggestion. "What? …You…live with me…?"
"See?" Roy awkwardly rambled. "Isn't that a hair-brained thought? As soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew that…oh, man, that would be so awkward!" Fumbling for more words, he went on, "We've known each other forever, but never like that – we haven't gone out with each other or anything! And we might not be able to find an apartment anyways, so-"
"I…I wouldn't mind…" she quietly interjected.
"Yeah, see? That's exactly what I thought, too-" Right on cue, the redhead did a double-take. "What?"
"I – I said I wouldn't mind living with you!" she blurted out loud, nervously setting her hands in her lap and trying to will the embarrassment in her face away.
"…Um…uh…" Stunned and short of words, he spent a minute fumbling for a proper response.
Finally, he was able to muster the courage to reply with, "…Well, if that's what you want, then…what the hell, let's do it."
After bidding Lilina a good night, Roy gingerly shut the door behind him and slumped against it to the ground. "Oh, man…I can't believe I just did that…"
"Not quite what I was hoping for…" Roy spun his head to see Asthor leaned against the wall next to the door, who squashed a mocking smirk and continued, "but hell, it's a start. I'll get the word to Marcus, and we'll start looking for apartment openings and moving companies. Only the best, of course – I imagine you guys could tolerate less, but Marcus, Oswin, Bors, the rest of those prim and boring bastards wouldn't stand for it."
The son of the president sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "No, I guess they wouldn't.
"I gotta get home – I ran right past Marcus without explaining what I was doing, and I left my cell phone back and wallet back at my house, anyways. They're probably fretting over me left and right."
Asthor chuckled. "Actually, that old bag wised up and tried calling here – I just picked up and hung up every time, and he eventually gave up and quit calling. Talk about insensitive – here you are trying to cheer up the poor girl, and he can't butt out!"
"Mr. Asthor?"
"Hm?"
"Fuck you…" With his thoughts on the grizzly butler's meddling shared, Roy rose to his feet, yawned deeply, and walked off, adding, "…and thanks."
"You're welcome," the older man replied, promptly pulling out his cell phone to reach the Pherae household with the new developments. Hopefully, this'll calm Marcus down, what with how he is about "finding the right woman" for Roy…
The dim reflection of the moonlight on the steel pierced his eyes, the combination of the vague shine of the black metal and the connected memories stripping him of his ability to sleep. Idly twirling the large handgun on its flat broadside, he spent this newfound restlessness contemplating what had come to pass in the past three months.
His long brown hair was lightly tangled from unsettled sleep, and fatigue dulled the normally sharp gaze of his deep chocolate eyes. Tall, handsome, and lean but strong, a hardened scowl and terse demeanor transformed his size and good looks into a highly imposing figure and aura. Sometimes, people would even go out of their way, onto the edges of the sidewalk, to keep away from him when he prowled the streets of Aquelia, hot on the trail of his latest case.
While he might momentarily have been less-than-scary due to wearing nothing and sitting on the edge of his bed, his fearsome countenance remained etched into his very being. Ryuichi – how long has it been since anyone called me that? Should I still consider it my true name? – would not say that he was proud of it, but it served its purpose: to keep people out of his way, and to keep them out of his life. His dangerous career and reckless devotion to his personal goal did not, in his mind, permit the presence of others. They would be endangered by his work or – the more likely possibility – would suffer if he died.
It's always worked…turning behind him, he irritably noted, Except for this fool. A snarl crossed his face briefly as he wondered, what makes her believe she can become some sort of surrogate mother to me?
Said woman was currently sleeping, turned in the opposite direction by him. She had been cuddling against him when he'd woken in the dead of the night…and he had a feeling that she hadn't done that in her sleep. For a professional nurse who kept her dwelling extremely tidy and consistently cooked her own meals (admittedly, they were good), she was highly unreserved in sexual matters, seeming to treat it like a means of providing emotional support and comfort – a purpose akin to the hugs he had received as a child. Certainly a contrast with the petty social games most used it for, and definitely not fitting with how he had envisioned it due to his childhood – the natural outgrowth of a deep love between man and woman. While her shunning of protection was not really much of Rutger's concern (her choice, not his), at least she watched her ovarian cycle and kept morning-after pills for emergencies.
He angrily cursed himself. That's the reason she ever got into your life in the first place, idiot. A moment of weakness on your part. Can't be much of a loner if you're too busy letting others comfort you to keep them out of your life, hm?
Turning away, he mentally continued, For now, perhaps, she chooses not to acknowledge my intent to be alone…I'll find a way to change that, though. Better she is hurt by rejection than my death, especially if this progresses any further…
"Can't sleep, Rutger?" Her confident, melodious voice pierced his thoughts.
The tall brunette snorted. "Neither can you, apparently."
She sighed in response. "Ever the gentleman, are you?" Sitting up and turning to face him, she swept her long green hair over her shoulders, disregarding her uncovered chest. Not like there's anything to be embarrassed about. We're living together already, after all…
"You are a fool for expecting anything from me, Cecilia," he suddenly began, keeping his back turned. "I still see nothing for you to gain from forcing your way into my life."
This again? "I don't see you complaining," she replied in a sultry tone, shuffling over to sit closer to the reclusive private eye.
"I'm not the one emotionally investing myself in a lost cause."
"Yeah, you're the one trying to take down terrorists and get himself killed in the process," quipped Cecilia, frowning and stopping halfway across their bed.
Rutger darkly chuckled. "Is that what you think? I hunt the fiends who killed my family…and I'll put them six feet under so others won't suffer like I have. Somebody has to do this…all the better if it's someone with nothing to lose."
The green-haired nurse gave him an aggravated glare. "Damnit, Rutger, quit this clichéd lone wolf bullshit! You need someone who cares about you in your life, and you already do! You have something to lose, whether you like it or not."
Rutger still did not face her, but came back with, "And there lies the problem – in your delusions. Fancy yourself my caretaker, if you please – my lover, even. That won't make it the truth. You're the one who refuses to chase a man with a more normal life – didn't you get enough aggravation from your military ex, or do you get some twisted thrill from trying to win over men with personal troubles?"
Cecilia snarled. "Percival had problems making sense of his emotions. You are trying to deny that your self-imposed loneliness is painful for you, and that you're just scared of a realm of life where you can't solve your problems with a scowl or a trigger!"
"Hardly." The half-Sacaen man then turned and spat her with a scorning glare. "And you're the one who won't acknowledge that there's a damned reason I'm pushing you away! I don't have delusions of grandeur or invincibility. Revenge brought me to this life, but I'm not still alive because of it.
"If you're stupid enough to get close to me, then perhaps you deserve to suffer when I fall."
A muted smack rang through the room. Rutger's hand had snared Cecilia's wrist just shy of his cheek, stopping her from striking him across the face with a slap. Her frustration curled her fair features into an angry frown, and his face bore a familiar mask of chilly, grim resolve.
"Damn you, Rutger," she hissed, her green eyes seething. "Damn you to hell. Why can't you…why do I…why…" Her fury abated, and tears began to stream down her face as she choked back sobs. "What do you want me to do?" she whispered hoarsely. "…I can't just leave like you tell me to…because when I look into your eyes, I see so much pain, so much loneliness and suffering. I won't abandon someone like that…I have to do something."
His features softened, and he pulled his hand away, turning to pick up the jet-black gun he had been fiddling with. "You can't…and it is because of what happened that day. That day, those bastards…they killed all those people so cruelly. There was no quick, merciful release for those caught in the bombings. All they could do was lay and wait…wait for the nerve gas to kill them, slowly and painfully. I was one of the 'lucky' survivors…but what fortune was there in watching my family lose to an ambush set by those cowards, in their going where I couldn't follow? None of those innocents in the subways deserved to die…"
Leaving the firearm on a bedside table, Rutger softly continued, "That's why I have to get revenge. They took the only thing I held dear, and I can give them no mercy or quarter. Those monsters have to die…the innocent blood calls for justice, demands that I stop them before they repeat history.
"I cannot forget that day. It's a scar I'll carry all my life." After a moment of thought, he quietly added, "Nothing is a cliché when it's happening to you."
She shook her head in response. "Maybe that event defines who you are…but you don't deserve to suffer like that."
Rutger snorted contemptuously. "You speak as if I spent every night trembling and crying like a child before you showed up. I don't fear loneliness anymore."
"Yeah…you probably spent every night drunk and brooding. Y'know, the other staple of the lone wolf cliché," Shuffling forward, Cecilia embraced Rutger tightly from behind. "If only for a moment…forget that pain. You deserve the peace of mind, the happiness you've never known since that day."
Sighing heavily, Rutger smirked at the feel of her chest against his back. "…That's the reason you ever got into my life in the first place – my weakness."
"You're only human, Rutger," she softly whispered into his ear. "You can't be perfect. You'll always have your limits…"
…Ironic, how suffering will perpetuate more suffering. The further the relationship progressed, the harder it would be to get out, and the more he would eventually hurt her. He'd known this ever since they'd first met, under that burning sunset three months ago. He had been lost in thought, and she had sought to better understand why he had looked so anguished.
What do I want? Within the confines of his own mind, an arena that could not inspire more foolishness on her part, he answered her question. I want to sleep, to forget. I want my family back, a chance to live the life that was taken from me. A license to kill. All the weapons I'll ever need. To kill my emotions, so that I don't do this to you.
But right now, more than anything, I want you. And that's my weakness. For all the work of his mind, the intellectual arrangement that had spurred him to seclusion, the cravings of his soul and his body could not be dissuaded. So he turned and accepted what she so freely gave him. What the cold demon within him, the one that demanded vengeance and solitude, railed against. What the scarred and weeping child, the side of him he'd locked away twenty years ago, longed for.
Her soul and her body.
I found a convenient death for modern-Rutger's family in the nerve-gas bombing of Tokyo's subways in 1995 (I ran across it in my Biology textbook…), which is what inspired me to make Sacae the modern-Elibean equivalent to Japan. Obviously, the italicized dialogue in ' ' and the possibly butchered romaji (if you see the need, drop a review with the proper translations) is the Sacaen tongue, which is merely real-life Japanese. Another part of the package is the manufactured names for Karel (Hikaru Yukyonoken) and Rutger (Ryuichi Kokaku). Don't worry, though – since I've already worked in their "Western" names, I will continue to use them unless necessary to the plot.
On that note, referring to people by their first names in Japanese culture is extremely informal, so it's seen as rude unless you are very close to them and not an "inferior" (e.g. you're an old friend, parent, lover, et al) – hence that point about Karel's coworker not comfortable with calling him by his first name.