Disclaimer: I do not own Kamen Rider OOOs. I just enjoyed the series.
Author'sNote: This was written for the Spring Kink prompt, "Kamen Rider OOO, Ankh/Eiji: Love was a strange feeling and Ankh had trouble admitting how much he desired it." I know it didn't end up very exclusively Ankh/Eiji, but hopefully whoever requested it will enjoy it anyway!
TheGreatestofThese
(Justreadit.)
He ignores the human, as he always ignores the human. It was better before Shingo woke up, when he wasn't having to suppress or dodge the human's thoughts leaking into his head. He's thought, once or twice, about giving this body another mild case of brain damage, but it's too much work and risk for not enough pay-off.
Though considering it usually makes Shingo shut up for a little bit.
(No,itdoesn't.Justreadthedamnthing.)
Sighing, he flips open the document on his computer. He doesn't know why the human's so determined that he read it, but it doesn't hurt anything. It may even be entertaining—a chance to figure out what makes humans do the strange things that they do.
(Justthinkaboutit,Ankh.Please.)
"I'll do what I want." He sneers, knowing that the human can interpret his facial expressions.
And just because his curiosity's been piqued, he does start considering the quotes that appear on the screen in front of him.
XXX
Faith.
It's something the humans and the Greed have in common, so it's something Ankh understands. All creatures that are going to survive have to have faith in something, whether it's the strength of one's own talons or the deep-seated certainty that screaming at the top of your lungs will bring food to the nest rather than a hungry cat.
Like most things humans do, though, they sometimes do it stupidly wrong.
Kougami has faith in birth. Together with the rest of the man's annoying habits, it makes him absolutely insufferable. No one should have faith in creation. Birth is an act of blood and destruction as much as it is an act of creation, anyway—a thefting of resources, the beginnings of another always-needing life form without thought to those it damages with its needs.
No, creation isn't something to put your faith in unless you want to be the log the fire eats.
Maki has the opposite problem. He puts his faith in death, in destruction, thinking that something that has ended is something that can't betray itself. It's as foolish as believing that birth is a positive thing. All sentient creatures want to continue on—need to continue on. To be destroyed is the ultimate betrayal of the self, a quashing of possibilities.
Only someone with no grasp of the meaning of potential could ever put their faith in destruction.
None of the other humans are as bad, but they've all got something weird about them.
Chiyoko has faith in the power of pretending. She believes that by giving her people somewhere to go and not be themselves, by giving people an opportunity to escape their small lives for an hour of magic and fun, she makes them better, kinder, more open-minded.
It's a foolish thought, and an ignorant faith, but it hurts no one.
Hina puts her faith in the future. She thinks that things will get better with time and patience and perseverance, and she's so close to the truth but so far away from it that Ankh wants to sneer it in her face. Yes, the future can be better, but it's better because you seize it with your own claws and rend what you need from it.
Which she tries to do, sometimes, but there's only so much a human child should be expected to bear, and something inside him won't let him hate Hina too much, so he almost forgives her for the foolishness of her faith.
(Shingo has faith that Ankh is a good person. It's foolish, beyond foolish, because Ankh's a Greed and not a person at all, but that doesn't stop the detective from believing it.
And it hurts too much to ponder anything that Shingo tries to thrust on him too deeply, so Ankh just pretends that he doesn't hear at all.)
Eiji's the one who comes closest to actually getting it right.
Eiji trusts people.
It took Ankh a while to figure it out, because it's twisted and turned around into a thorny mess. Eiji doesn't trust groups of people. It's why he doesn't want to stay in one place for long. It's why he refuses to take all of the resources that should have been his by birth. He interprets what he's seen in the past as a problem of humans enmass, of collectives, rather than one of human nature. He'll stand with any one human against the hordes of hell without flinching, but he knows better than to trust a group to stand in solidarity beside him.
He's so close to understanding, but still too blind to see what he really needs to have faith in.
Ankh knows, though. There's only one thing worth believing in—one thing that you must have faith in.
Yourself.
He learned it shortly after his creation. He had it burned into his soul when the King drove a hand through his chest and ripped away part of his essence. He's carried it over into this life, and it serves him well.
Trust people to take care of themselves.
Take care of yourself.
Those are the only two rules that actually mean anything.
XXX
Hope.
Greed understand that one, too, because they were created by it.
Hope is the thing that you grasp onto with both hands, the beast that you ride through the darkest depths of the world until you get to where you want to be.
What the humans don't get is that you have to work to make it move.
Some of them do, in a way.
Maki hopes that everything will stop, will freeze, will end in fire rather than ice, and he's doing what he needs to do to make it happen. Sacrificing his humanity, and because of that Ankh has to grudgingly admit that maybe this human does understand.
Ankh certainty couldn't imagine ever wanting to give up what humans are handed so freely.
Taste, wild and bright and everywhere, on every current of wind that comes to him, in every treat he steals from the café, in every memory that Shingo has.
Smell, like nothing he's ever had before, warm and sharp and awful and wonderful, and he only resisted the urge to sniff everything in the beginning because he refuses to stoop to Cazali's level in anything.
Sight, and he wants to fly, like he used to, seeing the colors so myriad and flowing and jagged-tipped beautiful as they pierce his eyes.
Touch, so rough and gentle and teasingly, pleasantly varied, and he has to stop thinking about it or Eiji's going to notice again.
It's annoying, the things the human notices when all Ankh's trying to do is enjoy some quiet time in his nest.
So maybe Maki does understand what hope means, and the sacrifices it takes to claim that hope.
And maybe, just maybe, some of the other do, too.
Hina, with her simple, straightforward dedication to keeping her brother's body alive, lies somewhere between the human blind stumbling of hope and the Greed's knowing, driving, desperate relationship with that angry beast.
(Shingo hopes that they'll find a way to work this out so they both can live, but Ankh knows that's a fool's hope. There's only one body, one human shell. Even if he manages to find all his core metals, even if he manages to be whole, he'll never be alive.)
Eiji refuses to admit that he hopes. He condenses his hope, bottles a world full of desire and aching need into small acts of kindness and desperation. It makes those small acts powerful. It makes him strong.
It makes him stupid, his insistence on drowning and denying his hopes instead of embracing them forcefully. It means he'll never win what he really wants. It means he'll always find more ways to ache inside, more things to need.
Ankh understands, in a way. It's easy to focus on the small thing right in front of you—easy to get lost in defeating Cazali's newest scheme, or surviving Uva's attack, or collecting enough Cell medals to make it feel like he isn't disintegrating rightnow, at least.
But that's not what he really wants. It not what he really hopes for.
There's only one thing that Greed can hope for.
To be whole.
One day, somehow, he'll find all his medals. He'll have his wings again. He won't be a pathetic thing, forced into life by humans so long dead their ashes have all been forgotten.
Until that day comes, he'll put all his hope and all his effort into it.
XXX
Love.
"You're kidding, right?" He sneers again, a brief chuckle escaping his lips. "That's what humans tell each other?"
(Yes.Becauseit'strue.)
"No."
It's as wrong as it can get.
Faith is strong. Faith is something that aims you, that gives you a purpose and a plan and something to cling to if things start falling apart.
Hope is strong. Hope is the thing that lets you take the risks, defy the odds, because there's a chance, any chance, that it might work.
But love…
(It'sthestrongest.)
More human lies. More humans twisting the world, painting it as something less scary, less dark. More humans telling each other falsehoods, so it's easier to stab one another in the back.
(That'snottrue.)
"Oh, yes it is."
(No.Andifyou'djustbehonestwithyourself,you'dknowitisn't.)
"Honest? I am the one being honest. I'm a Greed. Even if this were true for you—" And it may be, he can see in the human's mind, and that's a horrifying thought. "It could never be true for me."
(Itcouldbe,ifyouletit.)
"What's a Greed supposed to know about… that?"
(Whatyoudoknow.Whatyou'vefelt.)
"I've never felt love, detective. Want, yes. Need, oh yes. But not—"
(Hina'sarmswhenshehugsyou.)
"It's you she wants, not me. You she sees in this body, not me."
(Chiyoko'sjoyandhappinesswhenshefeedsyou,teachesyou,triestodrawyouintothelifehere.)
"Based on a lie that Eiji told her. Self-serving feelings, because then she can tell other humans that she was kind to the damaged creature."
(Eiji'shappinesswhenhehelpspeople—whenhehelps you.ThewayEiji—)
"Fine. So Eiji's defective. That has nothing to do with me, and it doesn't make this thing any more true."
(ThewayyouenjoyitwhenChiyokoletsyouparticipate,thoughyoutrysohardnottoletitshow.)
"There's food. It's got nothing to do with—"
(ThewayyoufeltwhenHinasaidyoucouldhavemybody…)
Shingo's voice falters, just slightly, pulling away and then shoving itself back into the forefront of Ankh's consciousness.
(Thatjoy,thatpeace,thatfiercecertaintythatsomeonewantedyou—)
"Shut up. I was just glad that I wouldn't have to fight Eiji yet. He's a useful pawn."
(ThefearyoufeelforEijinow.Thesorrowyouhavethathe'slosinghimself.Thedesireyoufeeltosavehim.The—)
"That's enough." He doesn't tell the human to shut up. He simply wills it, his own fiery determination shoving Shingo back into a small dark corner of their mind.
He's breathing hard. His palms are sweaty where they grip the computer, and his eyes are fixed unblinkingly on the absurd little piece of text that started this whole debate.
Absurd, wrong, contradictory, utterly human little piece of text, and Ankh blows out a slow breath of air.
Maybe next time Shingo will think twice before trying to play mind games with a Greed.
XXX
Dinner is a quiet affair—something they haven't been able to say recently, and something he suspects they won't be able to say very much in the future.
Chiyoko cooks for them, cheerful as always. She refuses to let Ankh into the freezer before dinner, hitting his hand away from the door, but there's a genuinely fond note in her voice as she explains that he'll ruin his appetite, and her hand is gentle as she pulls him away.
Gentle as it wouldn't be if she knew what he was, if his hand had its true shape and wasn't hidden under Shingo's soft pink skin.
Hina serves dinner for them, and she carefully doles out an equal portion to Chiyoko and Eiji but she gives Ankh more of the tasty green vegetables and more of the cow meat with less of the orange and yellow things that he despises. "Eat it all, Ankh. It's good for you."
He knows the words are for Shingo's body, and there's no possible way that he's fond of the young human, but he finds himself almost smiling at her anyway.
He escapes as soon as dinner's over, climbing up onto the roof from their window. Running away from the strange humans with their defective ideas—no, not running.
Just getting away from the stupidity for a while, on the off chance that it's infectious.
(Theyloveyou,Ankh.)
Shingo's voice is quiet, calm, and utterly certain.
"Maybe." Lying back against the roof, he reaches up to the stars with his own hand.
It's almost like he was flying, in his true form, nothing between him and what he wants to see.
Almost, and yet so infuriatingly, agonizingly not.
(Andyoulovethem.)
He doesn't bother answering the human again. Sometimes Shingo just isn't worth arguing with.
And if he doesn't snap and snark at Eiji when the other man climbs quietly up onto the roof with him later that night, it has nothing to do with feelings or love or the power of either.
It's just because he's a Greed, and Eiji's his pawn, and there's no sense in alienating his pawn before the time's right.
(And if Shingo sighs in the back of his mind, thoughts bright with self-satisfaction, it's just because the human absolutely, definitely, could never understand him.)