Ho ho-dee-frickin'-ho.
It's either a Christmas miracle, or a Christmas foul up. Either way, I haven't had the chance to sleep properly since I started, and would much like to rectify that right now. Please excuse me for any messes I might have left behind in there, and I promise to fix them as soon as I stop passing out on my feet.
Kaname Kazuya (c) -Anonymous Insanity-
A/N: Please note that "{text like this}" will be used generally for "translated" non-English dialogue – as will be demonstrated in this chapter. While I will still use foreign languages in their written form from time to time, if I feel the need for the words, in will come the brackets.
Until next time!
"We have to hurry."
Leon looked up from where he was still straddling their captive, the man still dead to the world and unaware of his impending fate. Above him, Cloud still held his carbine in one hand, but in his other was a set of clothes that smelled like old cardboard. The agent alternated glances between them and the ones who were scrambling to get ready beside them. Finally, with a sigh, he continued as he was.
"It has to happen eventually," he added in passing. "You know what's best for now."
It was Leon's turn to sigh deeply, left to the ugly task before him. Cloud disappeared into the adjoining bathroom – for Kairi's sake more than anyone else's – and the Guardian sought to ignore his unwilling audience as he placed his hands on the unconscious man.
A sickening "pop" echoed through the room, and the echoed ruckus around him was what he had been expecting. Not pausing to allow them recovery and protest, he moved on to dislocate the other shoulder as well. Only when he was done did he sit back, and then rise completely to drag the man to a corner of the room.
Watching him in horror, Kairi had her hands over her mouth, and she was shivering as her eyes brimmed with tears she was too stunned to let flow. Beside her, Riku's face was a deathly pallor, his lips drawn so tight they were but thin white lines. It was Sora who choked first, no longer able to keep his feet as he collapsed to sit clumsily on the bed.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded.
"It buys us time," Cloud answered, returning from the bathroom fully dressed in his new attire. "With a broken leg, he can still crawl out of here. With a sliced tongue, he can still run to his colleagues for help before he bleeds to death. This way, even if he frees himself, the door will provide enough of a hindrance to trap him here until we're gone."
"But-" Sora started again, but at once Cloud was across the room, his hand on the boy's shoulder as he cut off the protest.
"The only other way would be to kill him."
It was at that statement that the boy fell silent, his frame still trembling with unspoken anger at the act. Without another word, Cloud squeezed gently before releasing the boy and moving on to the next thing on his list.
As he kept his hands busy with securing the man's ankles together with the telephone cable, Leon wondered for a moment if that had been necessary. Innocence had just been ripped from under the adolescents' feet so suddenly, and though any of them could claim otherwise, they were so very much still children. Children who were about to be forced into adulthood a step too quickly, if only for the sake of keeping at least one of them alive.
Just as he finished, his shirt landed over his head, and he stuck out a hand to catch the jacket that followed not two seconds afterward. Exhaling loudly, Leon pulled the shirt off and shook it out before he proceeded to tug it over his head. Across the room, Cloud looked his faithful gun over one final time, and then started to take it apart piece by piece. Each individual firearm was laid down on the carpet, and when the agent was at last holding his handguns, he motioned for the three youths to approach him. When they finally did, he held out the pair of weapons.
"Do any of you know how to use these things?" he asked. They shook their heads, to which he huffed. "Good – shame on your parents if you did. All the same, here..."
Quite unprepared, Riku and Kairi nearly dropped the twin guns that were shoved into their hands. Catching their horrified glances at the deadly tools, Cloud felt it appropriate to set things straight: "The safety is still on, and I'm not teaching you what to do about that either. All you're going to do with that is stand there and look scary if you have to."
"... What about me?" At the soft, hesitant question, Cloud's expression remained neutral as he turned to the boy.
"You don't need one. You're staying with Leon." Then, thoughtful about his earlier harshness, he continued in what he hoped was reassurance. "He won't let anyone harm you."
Momentarily taken aback by the honest statement, Sora turned to fix his gaze on Leon, silently seeking confirmation from the other man. Allowing a small half-smile for the nervous boy's sake, Leon nodded as he produced his revolver from its hiding place for the briefest of moments before putting it away once more. Only he and his partner knew the high improbability of his actually using it, but its presence at least provided some needed security.
Setting aside the last of First Tsurugi's additional casing, Cloud dug into the sack one more time to find the rest of his newly purchased equipment. It sickened him to recall how easily he had found and obtained each one, but it was also a sinful comfort that he did. The pair of shotguns slipped into a carrying case, and he paused to buckle a holster on his leg before sliding the carbine in. All that was left was the sniper rifle, which he picked up only after stuffing the remaining casing and his previous attire into the sack.
"Once you're ready," he addressed the rest of the group as a whole, "we meet downstairs."
Without waiting for an answer, the agent slid out the door and stepped silently down the hallway. By the time he reached the stairs, he was aware that someone was already down there. In a second, he had reached for the carbine – awkward with the new method of accessing it – before he recognized who it was. Withdrawing his hand without fully relaxing, he descended the steps to greet the person.
"Mrs. Hawkins."
Startled, the innkeeper turned at once while instinctively backing away. It was only when she in turn recognized him – despite the rather prominent rifle in his hand – before she relaxed a little and started to speak: "Mr. Strife... I heard the noise. What is-?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's little time to explain," he interrupted, standing before her. "Do you know where the r- the storyteller is?"
"I don't know. He hasn't returned since he ran out the door with you earlier," she replied. From the way her eyes moved, he could tell she was worried. "Even with his... well, other work, he is usually back by now."
"When he does get back, can you relay a message for me?" When she nodded, he continued, "Let him know he's no longer safe here, and to meet us at the shuttle station. Also, be sure to give this to him."
"What do you mean?"
"Is there anyone here you can trust who knows how to use a gun?" Cloud asked instead, laying his rifle on the nearest table. Before she could repeat her question, he pressed further. "Please, this is important."
Thankfully, she sensed the urgency and answered him: "Delbert has a pistol somewhere."
"Wake him up and make sure he has it on him until the r- well, until he gets here."
"I know what he is, Mr. Strife," she stated calmly, and there in her eyes was a spark of determination, along with what he vaguely recognized as maternal concern. "He told me himself when he first came to be here. Please, just tell me – what is happening to him?"
"I can't say for sure," he admitted, after some deliberation, "but I do know that he has enemies who won't spare this place just to find him. One of them is lying unconscious in our room as we speak."
"... I'll wake Delbert."
Cloud bowed his head briefly, both in gratitude and in apology, as she turned and disappeared into a different room. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, he lifted his gaze to where the remaining members of his group were just coming downstairs.
"… Will she be okay?" Kairi asked aloud, but her voice still timidly soft.
"If that man was telling the truth, we can make sure of that," the agent replied, already reaching for the main doors. "Let's go."
The night air was freezing cold against exposed skin, and Cloud instinctively drew his jacket closer about his body. He brought up the rear, while Leon with his better night vision – and other senses – led the way. Between them, the youths were tense and rigid in their movements, startling at the slightest moving shadows about them.
As they walked at a forced pace, the holster's slow sway against his leg was becoming less awkward and more comforting, and he squeezed the handles of the carrier case to remind himself that the shotguns were still there. To not have First Tsurugi in full form at his back made his shoulders feel that much lighter but uncomfortably vulnerable. Despite the thick clothing he wore, he couldn't have felt more naked in his life. Frowning, he instead reached to stroke the leather flap covering his carbine, taking assurance that he was still armed, still able to defend himself and his company when the time came.
Suddenly, they stopped. Before they could fully recover, the agent followed the swift direction to duck. Already, Leon had grabbed Sora and pulled him to the pavement, and he had barely managed to do the same for Kairi and Riku before a loud crack echoed through the once still air.
The expected shotgun wielder had declared his presence.
At the next deafening gunshot, agent and Guardian separated, each with their own charges. Pulling the boy and girl after him behind the protection of a rusted iron crate, Cloud spotted Leon running just ahead, all but carrying the smaller boy as he dodged the following shots that rang in his ears. Releasing the pair, the agent growled as he tugged his carbine free from its sheath. About to warn them to stay down, he no longer saw the need to when a thundering chorus announced the presence of the remaining attackers.
Raising his gun, he fired blind over the crate twice before dropping for cover once more. At first, there was silence – not two seconds after, the shots rang out yet again, this time getting closer. To his relief, he did not hear the shotgun another time.
"Where's Sora?" Riku shouted over the gunfire.
"I don't know. Stay right there." Once certain that the boy was following his order, Cloud dared a glance pass their temporary shield. He could not see any silver light, any indication at all that the pair of brunets was nearby. And if they weren't, then that had to mean...
...that the gunmen let them go by.
Suppressing the urge to curse colorfully, Cloud started to rise – to see his shot for a more decent aim – but ducked in the nick of time as the previously silent shotgun fired at his head and barely missed him, instead crashing against the iron surface as though striking a gong. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Cloud squeezed the grip of his carbine painfully and glared at the carrier case with his shotguns that was still out on the pavement like a sitting duck.
Damn it, what are they up to...?
The moment they had reached the station, Leon all but threw them behind the safety of a pillar. Pressed against the cool surface, he kept his ears open, listening as intently as possible for the sounds in his immediate environment. There were the gunshots in the distance, the panting of the boy next to him, his own breathing... but apart from that, the station seemed too empty. Too quiet.
He had counted three gunmen earlier in passing: two with handguns to keep Cloud occupied, and that one with the shotgun to take the shot where it truly mattered. In that way, all three effectively kept the agent pinned. To have dealt with them on the spot risked drawing the attention of the remaining two, but to leave the station and go after them now risked endangering his charge – the frightened boy that now clung instinctively to his jacket. His own arm was around the thin shoulders, pressing Sora close to his side as he scanned his surroundings.
And yet, no attack was made. No sound, not even a breath to be heard that was not theirs. They had to be waiting on them – either to lure them into a false sense of security, or to scare them into a state of panic. Either way, they were expecting him to do something foolish. All too familiar with this trick, Leon resisted the reflexive urge to close his eyes, instead drawing Sora even closer to his body in hopes of calming the boy.
The waiting game continued. The fists on his jacket tightened, then slackened, and then tightened again in inconsistent intervals. Not knowing if he should comfort the trembling youth or keep him in his state of awareness, Leon kept listening, knowing that it was only a matter of time before one of them cracked, or slipped up.
And then he saw the movement, and his body was reacting accordingly.
One minute, Sora had been clinging to Leon with all the force he could muster, able to do nothing against his fear but trust the man's promise to keep him safe. Then in the next, he was roughly shoved aside, skidding against the rough tiles as a loud gunshot cracked in the air about them. He cried out as his arm seemed to burn under him, but the sharp pain was what he needed to shock him back to his senses. As he looked up, his eyes widened at the sight he was beholding.
Leon was flat on his back, but already curling forward and wrestling with an attacker for the gun that still smoked from the earlier shot. There was no blood – not yet – and when the attacker drew his arm back to take a swing, Leon shifted his feet under the unguarded belly and kicked him off. No sooner had he done so when he was assaulted again by a second man, but this time he managed to roll with the punch, getting his feet under him and jumping up to meet the barrage of attacks.
The two men – dressed much like the one who had entered their room at the inn – were taking turns to strike at Leon from opposite sides, and while neither seemed to give the Guardian trouble by themselves, as a whole they kept him from focusing on any one of them for an extended period of time. The one on the left seemed more aggressive, swinging and punching every time Leon's eyes left him for so much as half a second. The one on the right, however, seemed to be waiting for something.
Then, as Leon dodged and moved to counter a wild swing of a firearm as a blunt weapon, that man surged forward, and in his hand something gleamed. Sora called a warning too late as he watched the man bring the gleaming piece down on Leon's unguarded arm.
The sound of metal going through flesh that he expected did not come. Instead, he heard a soft "clink", and as he dared to look again, saw both men step away quickly. Clamped tightly over Leon's wrist was not the knife that Sora had feared, but an odd-looking bangle of tarnished copper. For a fleeting moment, Leon only stood there, appearing as confused as he was.
Then, quite suddenly, the entire arm seized up, shaking violently as an invisible current ran through it. Caught off-guard, Leon uttered a strangled sound and grabbed at the object. The second his fingers brushed against it, they flew back as though they had been burnt, and Leon choked as his right leg suddenly gave way under him and dropped him into an awkward kneel.
The men were sharing evil smiles, their very expressions giving away how they knew this would happen. They were moving in again, and the man on the left raised his gun for the one strike he intended to land home. He came to a stop just an arm's breadth away from the Guardian and with the momentum brought his arm swinging down. The strike did not finish.
An equally fast – no, faster – movement shot upward, stealing the weapon from its owner. Before the grin could even disappear from the smug face, the man was thrown backward, his head snapping up from the force of the gun's butt cracking loudly against his jawbone. Leon did not drop the weapon, still clenching it hard by its barrel, as he turned to the remaining man. Before the former assailant could think to back off, the gun came down upon his head with the same powerful force as it had on his accomplice. With a strangled cry, he crumpled where he stood.
For what seemed like an eternity to Sora, not one man moved from their place. Leon rose to stand over the fallen duo, his right arm hanging limp at his side save for the gentler shakes that continued to wrack it without mercy. Lifting his left hand, he flipped the gun around, now holding it upside down but in a better position to threaten with. His accomplice unconscious from that blow to his head, the remaining man at the left struggled to his feet. Leveling a hateful glare at the Guardian, he turned to run, back to where the other gunmen were.
Just as he reached the top step, the man's leading foot stopped awkwardly and sent the rest of the body tumbling to land in a messy heap. Straining to see, Sora watched as the man fought to rise again, but slowly, surely, ceased his struggles, lying there still as a statue. Only when he caught the glint of reflected light off arms and legs did Sora realize the man was, quite literally, frozen in place.
Then another figure joined their presence, and – seemingly ignoring both the Guardian and his ward – stepped over to the still unconscious man. He held out his hand, palm down. In a glow of blue light, more ice appeared to encase unresponsive limbs. With the task done, the newest arrival stood over the fallen forms without any further action. Sora looked away from him, back at Leon, and was promptly scrambling to stand as the Guardian in turn slowly sank back to his knees with a stifled groan.
"... Leon?"
His protector did not respond, remaining hunched over as Sora closed the distance between them. At closer inspection, the boy found the man's face contorted with pain, his skin deathly pale and fat beads of sweat rolling down and dripping off his jaw. And his left hand seemed to be squeezing the life out of his right forearm, just above where the bangle remained wrapped around his wrist. Suspecting at once that it was the offensive article that was to blame, Sora reached for it.
There was a firm hand on his shoulder, and a familiar voice in his ear: "Don't touch it."
Turning to voice his protest, Sora found himself looking upon the visage of The Benbow's storyteller. Shaking his head once more, the man only let him go when the boy obediently withdrew his hand back to his side. With a murmur of approval, the Shiva pulled back his hood to better examine the one before them, and Sora caught side of two brilliant marbles of shimmering light. Then the storyteller's attention was on him again, his tone serious despite his question.
"Tell me: where is your angry friend?"
Understanding whom he meant, Sora wordlessly pointed out into the street, where they could see the gunfight still underway with no sign of a conclusion. Beside him, the Shiva breathed an unintelligible sound of distress as he watched.
"That's not good. We need him here." He turned again to Sora. "I must ask of your help."
Sora blinked. "Me?"
The Shiva did not answer right away, only coaxing the boy to patience with his strange smile as he seated himself. Hands pressed into one another, palms crossed. Slowly, the one on top curled inward and lifted, and an icy cool breeze drifted from the gaps between. When they parted fully, a small bird of ice sat on the remaining palm, before it shook itself out as though wet. The Shiva motioned for Sora to lift his own palm up, and the bird hopped upon it, the freezing cold of its tiny feet causing the boy to flinch.
"I can give it form, and I can maintain that form," -the voice that spoke to him was barely above a whisper, strained with exhaustion- "but you have to be the one who will give it flight."
Drawn by the display of magic, Sora did not question the words as the Shiva instead directed him to look on the ongoing fight again. With a finger, he singled out the man in the center, poised and ready with his shotgun.
"Find your target... Focus on what you wish to happen..."
The little bird stretched its wings as Sora obeyed the instruction.
"... Now, let it go."
Without stopping to think, Sora tipped his head forward and blew gently at the ice bird's tail. The comical action took effect as the bird lifted off from its perch and sailed in strange arches – up and down – as it approached the man like a bee to a flower. It hovered there, flitting from side to side, unnoticed... until the very moment it dove straight down the man's collar.
With an unmanly yelp, the man jumped half a foot in the air as he struggled to find the icy object that caused him such grief. Startled by the unexpected, his two comrades turned to look. Cloud did not waste the opening given to him, and at once took aim and fired.
One shot, then two more, and the battle was at last over. Even then, none of the three fallen men were dead – the wounds strategically intended to not be fatal but still enough to keep them down for the count. Waving Riku and Kairi after him, Cloud grabbed the carrier case and ran for the station. Before he could ask any questions, the exhausted rogue pointed him back to where Leon remained on his knees.
Uttering a series of crude remarks, Cloud ran straight for his partner, immediately finding what was wrong. The bangle came off all too easily, but the moment Cloud had wrested it from Leon's wrist, the Guardian lurched forward with a tired groan, and Cloud caught him before he could hit the ground. Glaring darkly at the now harmless object in his hands, the agent vengefully smashed it against the tiles, satisfied only when he heard something break within it with a series of tiny cracks. Only after his sense returned to him did the agent remember there were other matters to worry about.
"I see you got my message," he commented flatly, "but how the hell did you get around us?"
The rogue snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "I live here. Of course I'd know the shortcuts."
With only a grunt of acknowledgment, Cloud helped Leon to sit more comfortably before he looked properly at the Shiva. "Where's my gun?"
"If I could use one, would I be in the streets?" the rogue retorted, before shaking his head as though answering his own question. "No, it's back at the inn. I asked Mrs. H to keep an eye on it and came here as soon as I could."
"So she's alright, then?"
"A lot more so than all of us combined, I gather." Despite his obvious weakness, the Shiva managed to look smug with his statement. "I left the poor dear in the protection of a far better man, and I trust the peg-leg old sea salt further than he can throw me."
Cloud paused for a moment, and then probed carefully. "...'peg-leg'? It's not the one-legged, one-eyed and one-armed sea cook with the hand-cannon, is it?"
"That woman and her son know how to pick their allies. But that aside..." There was a shifting as the rogue slowly hauled himself to his feet, and then came to stand before the pair. He looked Leon over, and finally, slowly, squatted beside him and held out a hand in silent offering. "The paralysis has to wear off on its own, but I can at least help with the pain."
"You're near dead on your feet. Are you sure?" When the Shiva waved off the attempt to dissuade him, Cloud remained distrustful, earning a tired sigh.
"I'm as much a healer as I'm a jester. Will you let me do my job?"
"... Can you promise to keep his secret, then?" The rogue raised a brow, prompting for an explanation. "If you can't, I'm not letting you touch him."
With a patronizing huff, the rogue relented. "If it means that much to you..."
A thin pale hand took hold of Leon's right wrist, and familiar blue light glowed softly around it. Leon was just relaxing into the hold – taking comfort in the soothing aura – when suddenly the light disappeared with a startled jerk and the Shiva looked directly at him with shock written all over his face. There was no doubt he had noticed the taint of the Griever's spirit in Leon's blood during the use of healing magic.
"Blessed Gaia, you're...!" At the unfinished sentence, Leon nodded.
"Do we still have your promise?" Cloud asked again over his shoulder. The rogue seemed to choke before he laughed aloud.
"What you just gave me was priceless. Even if you did not have my word, there is nothing in this world of a value equal to this information."
Cloud breathed a sigh of relief. "Then I trust you won't sell it."
"Not even in exchange for my wasted life," the rogue reassured firmly, but in his eyes was a strange gleam as he continued. "Nevertheless, there is one thing I'd like to ask for in return."
"And what would that be?"
"May I heal you as well, young zephyr?" And the rogue was pointing out the red abrasion on Sora's arm, a reminder of his earlier acquaintance with the station's uneven tiles. With a frown, the teen tugged at his sleeve in a futile attempt to hide the mark.
"It doesn't hurt," he claimed softly, earning a gentle smile and a more insistent gesture of the hand. At last, he surrendered it to the man's administration, watching as pale blue light encircled the angry wound before closing it up completely. Yet, with the superficial injury taken care of, the rogue did not release the boy immediately. Smiling faintly, he instead regarded the youth before him with new understanding.
"So I see... Thank you," he spoke this time to Cloud, at last withdrawing his hand and rising slowly to his feet. Leaning heavily against a pillar, he dug in his parka until he found what he was looking for. "There's something Mrs. Hawkins asked me to give you."
He then produced a large misshapen skeleton key, its ring the shape of a ship's wheel and its teeth bearing the appearance of an anchor. From its end dangled an incredibly tiny replica of a coin. Motioning for Sora to open his hand, he dropped it on the waiting palm.
"That's her son's key. She asks that when you find him, to tell him something for her..." His eyes drifting close against his will, he pried them open again before speaking, "Tell him she worries, and wants him to come home."
The still air was suddenly disrupted by a low horn in the distance. As they watched, the first shuttle of the day drew into the station. Morning had come, and with it would be the people.
"Well, there's your ride," the rogue quipped, pushing off the pillar and straightening. "Once I settle the rest of my accounts here, I'll be on my way as well. What do you want me to do with your leftovers?"
"See if you can hand them over to my colleagues," Cloud replied, busy with hauling Leon to his feet. "It'd be even better if you have them delivered straight to my handler. She'll know what to do."
The Shiva hummed with interest, tugging his hood into a better position against the first rays of sunlight. "Give me a name, and I'll think about it."
"Tifa Lockhart."
"Uh huh..."
Once everyone was seated, Cloud looked out at the rogue one final time. They exchanged a nod, and the agent started to pull the door close behind them.
"... Hey!"
The door stopped midway, and the broken bangle was tossed for the agent to catch.
"Know the enemy, know the self," was all that the sly rogue offered. Staring at the object, Cloud sighed and shook his head before sending the man a crude salute in return.
"Stay out of trouble, you spoony bard," he muttered, allowing a small smirk to play on his face.
Hearing him clearly enough, the laughing Shiva dropped into an exaggerated flamboyant bow before the door slid shut and the shuttle went on its way. And if any of them chanced a look back, they would see that he was already gone.
"... Passengers are reminded to not leave your valuables unattended. Special areas are designated for the elderly and those with disabilities. Please surrender these seats when they are needed..."
Cloud listened with minimal interest to the recorded message as it finished its run – and then started to repeat itself in a different language – before he tuned it out altogether. As the only passengers in the rail car, his group was granted all the privacy and momentary relief they desired. It wasn't very big, with a seating capacity probably big enough for twenty – excluding standing – and doors on either side that led to the driver's cab at the front and the observation platform at the end.
It was on that platform that the agent sought out some peace to think. His hands were restless, fingers fiddling along the grooves where strange runes were engraved into the copper surface of the broken bangle. He could not decipher their meaning, but knew they were no more than fancy decoration – all of the bangle's power had come from its internal mechanization and with that broken, it was no more than a fancy toy. At least, that was what he hoped, with nothing else to prove otherwise at the moment.
A muted tapping against glass interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see Riku wave at him from behind the door. With a sigh, he reached forward and flipped a latch, allowing the door to be slid back before he confronted the teen. "He's awake, huh?"
Nodding silently, the boy stepped aside and let him pass. The door slid shut behind the agent as he crossed the mostly vacant rail car to where the others were seated. Gripping the back of the seats tight enough for the material to creak, Leon pulled himself up and adjusted until he was in a proper sitting position. Cloud did not comment on his partner's stubborn pride, his attention drawn instead to the man's overall condition. While looking a great deal better than before, the pallor on his face had yet to fade and his right arm was still limp by his side.
On either side of the Guardian, Sora and Kairi were seated as close as they could without touching him, and were quick to make room for the agent as he sat next to his partner. All three youths were watching intently as one man examined the other to the best of his ability. Sensing the question that none of them seemed able to ask aloud, Cloud gave his answer without sounding too patronizing: "He'll be fine. The effects should wear off completely by the time we reach Traverse Town."
"What is that thing?"
Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Cloud blinked before following the accusing finger's direction. Still in his lap was the bangle he had yet to put away, and he understood the boy's hostility and fear toward it.
"I can't say anything specific, but there have been reports about these things," he answered carefully. "As a matter of fact, this is the first actual... specimen I've come across."
"So what is it?" Ignoring the impatience in the repeated demand, Cloud continued his explanation.
"Years ago, we had about four reports from the field agents of Guardians disappearing more frequently than usual. What made these cases so interesting was that a majority of the missing was highly skilled – to be taken so easily and without anyone noticing before it was too late... Investigations went underway, but by then whoever was responsible had smartened up and stopped. Our most detailed report came four months after...
"The report was made by an agent, with confirmation from the two Guardians he was partnered with: a Bahamut and a Fenrir. They had managed to save a rogue from his kidnappers, and that was how they discovered this." The agent paused, holding the offending object up for a better view. "They called it the Curse Bangle. In his writing, the agent described it as a tool meant not only to restrain, but to completely incapacitate, leaving the victim helpless and much easier to carry off without a struggle."
His finger found the runes again, tracing over their lines with familiarity. "According to his partners, the theory is a lot more benign than reality. What the Curse Bangle does is cause pain – a lot of pain, and the inability to stop it. Even if they could access their Spirit's power, the paralysis will have them on the ground before they can think of using it. Just one touch is like an electric shock, but prolonged contact... let's just say our friend here underplays the idea of 'sheer hell' a little too well."
Next to him, Leon scoffed quietly at the remark, but otherwise denied nothing. Although unable to take their eyes off it, not one of their charges seemed ready to touch the bangle either.
"But you pulled it off him," Riku noted, breaking the momentary silence. "If it's as bad as they say, why didn't it affect you?"
"The same reason the agent was able to help the rogue remove his without trouble," Cloud replied. "When Guardians receive their Spirits, the Spirits enhance them, changing their blood. Apparently, the technology in the Curse Bangle's mechanism reacts to that, so non-Guardian folk such as the rest of us would not be threatened by it at all. Sora, is there something you wish to say?"
The boy flushed in an instant, torn between embarrassment at being noticed so easily and nervousness about what he truly did wish to talk about. Too used to dealing with people – clients and targets alike – and their varying emotional states, Cloud found this one as easy to read as an open book. Patiently, he waited for the youth to make his decision.
"... It's nothing, I... It's just..." trailing off, Sora finally lifted his gaze just enough to focus on Leon's limp right hand. "I never thought anything could hurt a Guardian. At least, not like this..."
Because Guardians were as they had been named – they guarded, they watched over others, protecting them as the faithful shields against any danger. They were like the heroes of folklore, invincible, without any form of weakness to deter them from their duties. Once, Cloud had believed that, too, and he would have kept on believing it...
"If only, kid..." he agreed softly, tuning out the memories that assaulted him before carrying on at normal volume. "But that is part reason why the public does not know about this yet. Guardians are the muscle of Organization XIII, and if people lose their fear and respect for them, so too will the Organization's reputation suffer.
"As for the ones who made this damned thing," –he huffed in sardonic amusement- "it's too valuable a trump card to share with anyone else. I only hope they'll keep thinking that way."
There was so much more he could tell them, but for now it was enough, especially after all that had happened earlier. So he stopped, waiting for another question to be asked. None came, and from the looks on their faces, they didn't seem to really know what they should ask. Deciding when he had waiting long enough, Cloud spoke again: "Can I trust you three to watch yourselves for a while? I want to be doubly sure this guy is fine, and he's never good with an audience."
Understanding his request, the teenagers got up, one after the other, and stepped toward the observation platform. When Sora lingered, Leon directed his gaze on the boy.
"About earlier... I... well... Thanks." For being there. For protecting me. For keeping your promise.
Leon nodded vaguely in acceptance. It was enough to satisfy the youth, and he followed his friends across the rail car. The moment the door slid shut behind them – the barrier and distance between acting as a sufficient sound buffer – he allowed himself to slump heavily against the seat with a shaky sigh. At his side, he heard a sound of disapproval.
"Stubborn moron," Cloud accused, reaching for Leon's right hand. Supporting the wrist with the heel of his palm, he squeezed the thumb firmly. "Can you feel me doing that?"
"I can," Leon answered, unable to pull away. "I just can't move it."
"And the rest of your right side?" the agent probed further. "I mean it – fess up. Even if you're exhausted, your movements are stiffer than usual."
"It's nothing that won't wear off."
Breathing an irritated growl, Cloud set the hand down again. "Some days you just have to be so damn conceited, don't you?"
"Like you're one to talk," Leon retorted, his tone void of any real malice. With a weary chuckle, he turned his gaze on his partner. "We're just perfect for each other, aren't we?"
"A Hyne-mocked match made in heaven."
Suddenly, the mood sobered, neither able to avoid any longer the topic that was on both their minds. Cloud was grateful that their charges did not seem ready to come back inside anytime too soon, and he took a deep, calming breath before speaking again.
"We can't be together – at least, not in that way. No, let me finish." He was straightening, turning to properly meet the gaze of the other man. "I can't see myself involved with another man, but I know what friendship is. This isn't friendship, Leon. It's beyond that."
He got to his feet, standing before the one who remained seated. "When I see you, I see someone who has my back, who will stand by me where no one else will. I see someone who will kick me in the head when he has to, but otherwise trusts me to know what I am doing. I see someone who has shed his blood for my sake, who has given me everything... There's only one other I know who was like that."
"It was Zack, wasn't it?" Leon guessed.
"Yeah... it's very much the same, but at the same time it isn't. Zack would never stop talking, never stop trusting in me. I knew him better than I knew myself. But as for you... well, I barely know you. I know what you eat, how you sleep, how you communicate without words, little things that I should know to live with you and keep you alive. But apart from the basics, I can't understand you, and I have no idea what makes you tick... But what I do know, is that I've come to the point where I can no longer do without you.
"You're not just a friend to me anymore. You're my family." He stopped, needing to take a breath before he finished. "I know this isn't fair to you, but... can I ask you to think of me the same way?"
"... as family," Leon repeated. Not trusting his words, Cloud nodded. To his surprise, the brunet smirked. "You realize that's a step up from what I called you last night."
Feeling debased, the agent shook his head in exasperation. "Is this some kind of revenge for my attitude then?"
"Hardly. But I know what you're trying to say." There was a thoughtful pause, and then the Guardian nodded. "If this is what you want..."
"It is..." Allowing the words to drift off, Cloud turned to look back at the platform. "I'd better get those kids back here before something does happen-"
Suddenly, Leon reached forward with his left hand, snagging Cloud by the back of his head and dragging him to lean down. As their foreheads bumped lightly, shining silver eyes bore deep into blue.
"No matter our relationship," his deep voice rumbled in Cloud's ear, "just know that, when the time comes, I will give my life for you."
Hearing the solemn vow, Cloud did not fight the hold as he understood its meaning – it was a final profession of love, coming not just from Leon, but from the Griever as well, the Guardian's entirety making that pledge to him. It was oddly humbling, and yet it felt right.
Then, the hand released him, and Leon blinked. The light receded once more, and the brunet turned away.
"… You can let them back in now," he informed lightly.
"So what do you think?" Cloud asked from Leon's right. "Is anything wrong here?"
There was no immediate answer to either question, and Leon took another step forward while flexing his right hand carefully. Since the rail car had brought them into the station, the pair had fallen back into their more comfortable roles as partners once more, and Leon had indeed recovered most of his mobility. While he still bore a slight limp in his right leg, the Guardian remained standing unassisted, taking stock of their immediate environment with a trained eye.
Traverse Town seemed peaceful enough, but the problem was the ominous silence in the area. There was something almost eerie about it, like the lull before the storm, or the gap of time before a predator pounced on its unsuspecting prey. And the fact that the street was near deserted also raised some concerns. Scanning the area one more time, Leon suddenly swung his leg back and kicked a pebble out into the open.
The unfortunate bit of street debris never made it back to the ground as a powerful gunshot blew it up in mid-flight. Almost all at once, an assortment of crazed individuals – all armed to the teeth – barreled down the street, each one hollering at the next. Throughout, they were blatantly ignoring the new arrivals. Another explosion was heard in the distance, and the entire lot swooped toward it like a flock of vultures.
The only other in the group who hadn't jumped a foot in the air, Cloud hummed in amusement as he watched the commotion. "I see nothing's changed around here. Relax – we'll be alright."
"Are you sure?" Sora yelped from behind the nearest "shield" he could hide behind, earning a laugh from the agent. "Who are those people?"
"Just a bunch of amateur bounty hunters. They pass through here more often than any other place," Cloud explained easily. "As threatening as they may seem, they're all lousy shots. So long as you stay near the station grounds, you'll be fine. Incoming."
Both men ducked as a stray bullet zipped by and disappeared into the side of an old empty barrel. Straightening, Cloud set his carrier case at Leon's feet. "I need to find that recruiter. I'll be right back."
With a mild, dismissive wave as response to any uttered protests, the agent strode down the street, occasionally turning his body to avoid more poorly-aimed gunshots. He soon reached his destination: a small run-down office with the word "JOBS" painted sloppily in black over the window. Jiggling the faulty doorknob a few times, he finally raised his knee and kicked at it. Only then did the wooden barrier swing aside obediently.
"We are closed," a voice drawled lazily. Leaving the door wide open behind him, Cloud glared at the single occupant within the office, sitting behind a desk with his face hidden behind a newspaper.
"You'll just have to make an exception, Kaname," he answered.
There was a long, drawn out beat, and then the newspaper was lowered. One eye narrowed – the other hidden behind a black patch –, squinting unnecessarily before widening with equally dramatic flair. A loud whoop filled the confined space, and quite suddenly the agent found himself assaulted.
"KU-BO!" the "assailant" greeted jovially, his fist in spiky hair and rubbing with fervor and rattling away in his native tongue. "{Look at you! You got taller, and- is that muscle? Where have you been and how did you get that?}"
Feeling his eyelid twitch rapidly, Cloud growled and fended off any further attack. "How many times do I have to say- will you get off me?"
"A-ah, still so angry over small things. You have not changed that much after all!" Still laughing merrily, the recruiter backed off at last, his eyes already searching behind the agent. "And where is my favorite Zakku? Did he not come with you?"
"... No, he didn't," Cloud answered bluntly, changing the topic quickly. "I'm looking for a job, Kaname."
"Oh, is that all?" When the agent nodded, he in turn shrugged. "Sorry, no can do."
"Look, I've no time for games, here-"
"Neither do I, my friend!" the recruiter insisted. "But your timing is just so bad. You saw the crazy bounty hunters out there again, right?"
Realization dawned on him, and Cloud groaned into his palm. "Let me guess: there is an expensive outlaw here who looks a lot like me."
"He does," the recruiter agreed, holding up the "wanted" poster. "Look at that – he is blond and pointy. You are blond and pointy. Do you share a barber?"
Ignoring the teasing remark, Cloud snatched up the poster and read the rest of the description. "It also says here he's significantly taller than me and wears a red coat. How in Odin's sullied name are people going to have us confused?"
"{People are stupid crazy! I'm taking NO chances here!}" the recruiter suddenly sang out, his hand up to reinforce the "NO". Then he lowered it and started to explain: "Listen, Ku-bo-"
"My name is Cloud."
"... Listen, Ku-bo, I want to help you, but I also worry about the town. Those idiots out there are close to knocking it down without even landing one bullet on their actual target. Right now, Sheriff Woody and Officer Lightyear have the entire force patrolling the streets just to keep the fools from killing each other by accident."
"Howdy, Kaz!" a red-headed officer called, waving as she passed the open door.
"Duck, Jessie!" the recruiter called back. Just as she did, yet another stray bullet zipped by where her ten-gallon hat had previously been. Screaming something that sounded rather inappropriate for such a darling girl, the officer straightened and aimed her fury at an unseen culprit.
"Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, THAT'S IT! You! C'mere! Gimme that thing...!"
Precious seconds were lost as the recruiter and agent stood there watching with mild fascination as the yodeling cowgirl chased an armed, screaming man down the road. And when the spectacle was out of sight, the recruiter shrugged and retreated behind his desk. Grinding out a frustrated sound between clenched teeth, Cloud followed after him and tried again.
"Kaname, I need the money. I have a mercenary pass-"
"Even if I let you, no one would take you on!" the recruiter interrupted fluidly. "I have plenty of job offers, but until that outlaw clears out of this area, no one will risk hiring someone who looks close enough to him."
About to protest again, Cloud paused to think. Then, an idea hit him. "I have a partner who looks nothing like the guy."
Immediately, the recruiter looked up. "Can he do manual labor like you?"
It was Cloud's turn to shrug. "Maybe, probably even better."
"You should have just said so!" And with another hearty laugh, the recruiter rubbed his hands gleefully together. "Now, what was that about a mercenary pass?"
The talks that followed were kept brief, but with constant interruptions by the incompetent gunmen and frustrated law enforcers, they did not finish until an hour later. By the time Cloud returned to the waiting members of his group at Traverse Town's shuttle station, he found the youths had managed to calm down a little – about enough to coax Leon into teaching them self-defense. Watching the silent brunet attempt to explain blocking without words, Cloud took pity and interrupted the session with a loud clearing of his throat.
"I have some bad news and some good news," he announced. "The bad news is I couldn't get myself a job. The good news is I got Leon one."
Leon did not so much as bat an eye as he took the note his partner held out to him. He took a moment to read it, but right after he was lowering it again and raising a questionable brow at the agent.
"Whatever you say or don't say, you're still stiff. I had to keep that in mind," Cloud explained. "The man who offered this just needs some extra muscle for a small building project, and from what I understand, you won't need to do a lot of walking. Heavy lifting and working with tools though, that's to be expected."
Accepting this, Leon did not argue, and after taking in any more information the agent had to offer, he consulted the paper one more time, following its direction to where the place of employment was. It was only then that Cloud realized he was, for the first time, left alone with his charges. Suddenly feeling a little uncertain, he masked it quickly and waved Sora over.
"See, this was what he kept trying to correct... Your arm goes up, like this... no, you hold it this way..."
"Hey, agent," Riku called from his seat on the old barrel. At a hum of acknowledgment, he asked, "Does Leon talk at all?"
"Why do you ask?" Cloud countered, still trying to fix the clumsy stance.
"A couple of times when Sora got it wrong, he got this really frustrated look, like he wanted to say something. He never did, though – each time, he just shook his head and moved on."
"Is that so?" Leaving the boy's question unanswered, Cloud gave up and stepped back. "It's good initiative to learn this, but it looks like you need to strengthen up first. Training will come afterward."
Sora lowered his fists from the awkward defensive pose he had been taking. "You'll train us? Really?"
"If it keeps you in one piece," the agent answered simply. "Just enough to get some needed muscle in the three of you, and then we'll move on from there."
Riku hopped off the barrel and came forward. "You mean that? Not just Sora, but Kairi and myself as well?"
"I can't seem to get rid of you anyway," the man replied. "The only one here I have to actually care about is Sora, so if anything else happens while we're out there, you two are on your own."
"Still, it's something," the silver-haired teen insisted, the usual arrogance replaced by something more serious. "Thanks."
"You'll thank me now," Cloud retorted. "You'll curse at me later."
The boy shrugged, and his tone was again cocky as he retreated to the barrel while waving both hands in circles. "Hey, so long as you don't make me wax on, wax off, it's whatever you say."
The agent had automatically started thinking of a good comeback when, too abruptly, he stopped. A memory came back to him, and what he saw was not the slightly insane town or the boy's back. He was back at headquarters, in the training room. His trainer was standing before him, not hiding his hatred as he jabbed a finger at his chest.
"I give a shit about you, you hear me? You want to make it, become an agent? You will do exactly what I say, and do it exactly how I want it done. If I say clean this place, you clean it. If I say wash the cell door, you wash it. If I say use a toothbrush, you will use it. You talk back to me so much as once, I'll feed you your own fingers, follow up with your toes, and then after that I'll just get creative. Understand me?"
The man had turned around to walk out of the room. Glaring at the broad back, his hands had come up, each taking a turn to circle inward.
"Wax on...! Wax off...! Ahso…!" Just for that, he made me wash cars for a week...
"... Uh, agent...?"
Cloud blinked, and the memory faded away. Sora was at his side, watching him intently. Riku and Kairi were just a short distance off, also looking at him. Focusing on bright aqua eyes, the agent wondered what had come over him in that brief moment. The remark had meant nothing – it was a coincidence, if anything else.
That boy is nothing like me, he insisted firmly, then remembering to answer, "Just thinking. Now, let's see what I'll be up against..."
"He sent YOU?"
Leon sensed that his new employer did not like him. Then again, he could not truly blame the man, although they had only just met. Still, he noticed the slow mottling of rising fury, and the cigarette between incisors was mercilessly crushed by grinding teeth.
"I pay the bloody sack of sod to get me someone who can work, and he sends me a frickin' two-bit punk with a limp...? The flaming hell does he take me for, huh?"
All around the room, hired hands were attempting to escape without looking too obvious. Though tempted for a brief second to join them, Leon managed somehow to stand his ground as the man got closer and closer to exploding.
Suddenly, there was a cough. The cigarette dropped to the ground and was crushed under a heavy boot. Either the man had mood swings, or this was the lull before the storm. The mad glint in the older man's eyes promised it was the latter when he suddenly whistled sharply at all his workers. And once he got their attention: "Gather, boys. It's time for some tea."
"... Sir?" one of them ventured carefully. He was a strapping fellow, easily dwarfing his employer with his bulk, but he wilted at once under the heated glare.
"You heard what I said," his employer growled. Any minute now...
"But boss-!"
"SHUT UP!" the man bellowed impressively, showing the near full extent of his previously pent-up anger. "SIT YOUR ASSES DOWN IN THOSE G'DAMNED CHAIRS AND DRINK YOUR G'DAMNED TEA!"
With startling speed, every one of the workers dropped whatever they were doing and flew to a chair in perfect obedience. The only two who remained standing were the employer and the one yet to be employed. Only one chair remained unoccupied, and with a few choice curses under his breath, the employer kicked at it.
"You and your bum leg can bloody take it. I ain't wanting a damn lawsuit."
Deciding it best to not argue, Leon accepted the seat as a tin cup filled with cold bland tea was slid over to him. At the center of the table was a set of blueprints for a strange craft, and over certain areas were scrawls in red ink. Not one man dared to touch it before their employer was hovering over it from where he stood. As he spoke, the Guardian at last understood what the whole "tea" affair was about.
In a stern voice that refused to be interrupted or ignored, the employer started to reassign tasks to each man. His finger moved rapidly over areas, and only when he asked questions did any of them really dare to say anything. In his hand, the red pen made more marks on the prints, indicating areas that were already taken care of. Finally, with every other addressed, the employer turned his attention back on Leon.
"So you want work, punk?" When Leon nodded lightly in reply, he asked another question: "Did the dumbass or any-frickin'-one at all tell ya what to expect?"
When Leon nodded again, the man's eyes narrowed, and it seemed for a minute that he would start shouting again.
"S'matter with you? Can't talk?" This time, Leon shook his head, earning a tired groan from the older man. "Great... Great... He sent me a g'damn charity case. When I find that g'damn cur, I'll take his bleedin' nuts and... Screw this. Get outta here, punk, you're fired."
"Oui ryja du rena res vencd," someone commented from the side.
"Did I ask ya, deadbeat?" the man snapped back irritably. With a low growl, he got to his feet and snatched up the empty flask from the table. "When I get back, the punk better be gone."
With a loud ruckus, the employer left the workshop, and each of the workers got to their feet and retreated to their individual tasks. With a sigh of defeat, Leon rose as well and prepared to leave. He was stopped by the one who had spoken up earlier – a blond man with a large tattoo on his bare chest.
"Brother," he introduced himself with a thick Al Bhed accent, a finger pointed at that tattoo. Then he held out his hand and beckoned for the Guardian to follow. "Okay. Come."
Directing Leon to a corner of the large working area, Brother pointed out what a complex looking structure and a bench under it.
"You strong?" he asked, and upon receiving a nod, he gestured at the bench. "You sit. I show you."
After a short demonstration on how to fit beams into slots, Leon understood why strength was needed for the task – not only were they heavy, they had to held in place while screws were fitted in. When the brunet proved to be capable of doing both with relative ease, Brother nodded in approval before leaving him to it.
When the employer tromped back in – the refilled flask swinging at his side – he paused at Leon's back, watching him work.
"Didn't I tell ya to leave?" he muttered, the earlier contempt gone as though it were never there. Then the man looked instead at the structure. "... These here look new. You did them, punk?"
With a distracted nod, Leon picked up another beam and set it into place. There was silence behind him, but he could still smell the cigarette smoke off the man who was watching him quietly.
"You're stronger than you look," the employer suddenly commented. "Then again, my baby girl is smaller than you, and she can kick those slackers' asses blind." He turned to slam the flask back on the table. "That's gotta be what they use to watch themselves work, cos' they sure ain't usin' their g'damn heads... Well, keep it up. When you finish that, you can call it a day."
As the employer moved on, Leon caught sight of Brother sending him a thumbs up. Relaxing, he resumed the task he was given.
As the day drew on, more and more of the workers packed their gear and left. By the time he was halfway through, Leon was the only one left at his station. Eventually, the employer came back, and sat himself down by the table to watch again.
"... Wanna know what's that you're working on, punk?" Without expecting an answer, he continued gruffly. "That's part of an airship that will never fly."
For a moment, Leon was not sure if he was supposed to respond. Instead, he kept working, focusing on doing the job right. Behind him, his boss kept talking.
"When I still had my wings, I used to fly all over the damn place, y'know? S'how I met my wife. Damned woman nearly gone and killed herself to fix a fault on my flight, and I got fired cos' I didn't take off. Couldn't do it – would've bleedin' squashed her like a frickin' bug."
There was a pause, then a deep, tired sigh. There were a few light flicks, and fresh cigarette smoke assaulted his senses.
"After she died, my baby girl upped and left. Said she wanted to do somethin' for herself, the g'damn brat... I get her letters, but she don't show her damn face around here anymore. Place ain't good enough for her no more... but at least she writes, eh? Well, this ship's for her, y'know... The shit won't fly, but it's the image of the one her Ma liked best. The one that got me fired..." –he broke off with a chuckle- "Hell, I hate lookin' at this thing."
Leon did not put too much thought into what was being said. Somehow, he understood that they were just words – words that meant nothing but still needed to be said. There was a strange comfort his employer took in rattling off nonsense, getting everything off his chest before it choked him, and he understood that.
Soon, the last screw was tightened in its place, and the brunet sat back. His employer in turn leaned forward, squinting at the structure for any faults. Eventually, what he saw satisfied him, and he announced so with a callous grunt.
"Good job. You plan on stayin'?" When Leon shook his head, he shrugged in a show of apathy before digging in his pocket. "Yeah, didn't think so. Here's your pay." A pouch jingling with munny traded hands. "You ever need work again, you come back and I'll give ya something to do... y'hear? Beat it, punk."
Pocketing the pouch, Leon rose from the bench and nodded his thanks. Watching him go, the employer breathed a thick puff of smoke as he too got to his feet.
"A good kid, that one," he muttered to himself. "Too bad there ain't more like him in these parts. Ain't that right?"
He looked back at the structure Leon had been working on, as though expecting it to answer him. All it reciprocated with was silence, but he snorted and turned away again.
"Shut up, Shera..."
"So, how did it go?"
Leon shrugged in reply and tossed the pouch to Cloud's waiting hands. The agent opened the top and shook the coins into his hand, counting out a specific amount.
"Generous guy," he commented at last. "This should cover the cost of renting a car. We can drive into the next town, maybe have better luck there. We can't spare a lot for fuel though, so..."
The rest of the coins were shaken out. The agent looked them over for a thoughtful moment, and finally slid them back into the pouch and sealed it again.
"We don't have a lot of choice here. We're driving to Modeoheim, and from there we can walk to Icicle Lodge."
Both looked up and across the station. Sitting a stone's throw away, the three youths seemed to be caught up in some sort of debate, with Kairi taking the lead. Watching them, Cloud snorted as he recalled that they were from a tropical location.
"From the sunny beach to a winter wonderland," he voiced aloud. "This ought to be interesting."