Disclaimer: Tales of Phantasia and all her characters belong to Namco. The bluebird comparison is credited to Morrosseth.
Pairing: Cless x Chester
Warnings: Rape, Spoilers, Shounen-ai
Bluebird Is Breaking
Chapter 2: Realization
Written by Nariena
October 2, 2007
He was no fool.
He knew, and he saw the signs.
And yet, he hadn't known why.
Morrison had known.
When asked, however, he would only shake his head and say that it was for Chester-- and Chester only-- to tell.
Now, he was almost glad for that.
As a particularly fake archer drifted by, he couldn't help but pity him.
The poor thing had had his parents and only sister taken away, his best friend had left him twice, and now this?
Despite the fact that touch would no doubt do anything but rattle the archer, he longed to just hold him.
But it was best to stay away from such subjects,
It wasn't hard to see that the archer wasn't willing to discuss it.
He wondered if Chester would be willing to talk about it. Then he stopped himself, because he already knew the answer.
He remembered how he'd found out.
How, little by little, he'd pieced it all together.
How, little by little, he'd watched the archer break.
When he'd first been able to take a good look at the archer, he'd felt sick.
There had been scratches lining his otherwise bloody and bruised back.
The archer's neck had made him feel strangely nauseous, as if, seeing it then, he'd subconsciously realized what had gone on that dreary day.
His neck had been covered in bite marks.
Thinking back on it now, he had to wonder why he'd never realized that, in a fight, the Demon Lord would never resort to biting and scratching.
Maybe he just hadn't wanted to believe it.
He couldn't blame himself for not wanting to.
For the next thing he saw was perhaps the most heartbreaking of all.
The archer's eyes had flickered open.
First, they'd shown pure, undiluted panic.
It was easy for anyone to see he'd been scared.
The air had hung at that moment, as if waiting for him to scream.
Not a sound had escaped his lips even after the fear had subsided, but his eyes had indeed changed.
Despair, hope, pain, helplessness, fear again-- all flashed in those slate depths at once.
Finally, they'd turned to a heart-wrenching sort of acceptance.
He never wanted to see that archer like that again, typically cold eyes bearing his soul to the world.
A pity, then, that it was in such a state they stayed, even after the journey.
And so the swordsman never looked directly into the archer's eyes again, and nothing changed.
Even without looking him in the eye, however, he could still see that unspeakable despair.
It was in the defeated way he moved; in the long silence that consumed the both of them.
It was in his distraction during battle. It was in his newly formed paranoia, and it was most definitely in his lack of trust.
It seemed he never let his guard down, refusing to even sleep; he always volunteered for night watch, and, if refused, he'd go out and train.
The others always dismissed it as a simple desire to be useful, but Cless didn't buy it.
He disappeared for hours, those nights.
In the rare event that the group did manage to get him to sleep, he tossed and turned fitfully.
Often, feverish mumbles could be heard, pleading and begging in their slurred flow.
Though evidence was still pointing to that same sickening scenario, Cless refused to believe it.
Things had only become worse after they'd met Suzu.
Upon entering the sauna, he'd been treated to another view of Chester's back, now littered with scars.
He'd disguised concern with compliments that night, and received but a small smile in return.
It hadn't been a real smile, he reminded himself.
They never were, always plastic and empty.
But he'd felt a fraction better, if only for a little while.
He'd always told himself that, maybe, the archer was saving real smiles for after the final battle, when everything was peaceful again.
But, even after, he never smiled one of his old, shining smiles that the swordsman so dearly missed.
And peace never returned.
Dhaos has been put to rest.
They had both gotten their revenge.
But, for the archer, nothing had really changed.
Now, as unwilling as he was, with a mechanical Chester drifting in and out of view, he had no choice but to believe.
Chester had been raped.
He realized now that nothing would change.
The bluebird's wings had been broken…
… And he might never fly again.