"I present to you this embedded gun, Hades."
Sephiria heard herself informing formally while holding gaze with the young man before her.
Train Heartnet. The boy whom Karl had taken under his wings 8 years ago.
His eyes slowly traveled on her feature. Although they meant no offense, they possessed sharpness that could slice through most pretense without difficulty.
He was examining her, cautiously and curiously. However, his defense was being gradually lowered. Judging from how he attentively studied her face, he probably was not aware of his internal shifting, from highly strained to a calmer demeanor.
Direct stare and silent breaths, they were too obvious signs that could tell the targets they were being observed.
Heartnet made both of those mistakes, just adding his slightly relaxed shoulders to the list.
Maybe he didn't care. He was young and bold. It must be that he was certain with his instinct, claiming there was no danger. Nothing that could threaten his lives.
How interesting. Sephiria exclaimed. Strangely, knowing that a characteristic of him still stayed true to his age, after what he had been through caused a complicated feeling to sprout in her.
One that should have appeared long ago, but it didn't.
Besides from contentment, and possibly relief as well, for once again, she had picked the right piece to move, there was another. An unpleasant streak on her currently perfect drawing.
Heartnet was lifting the gun, assessing it thoroughly. Lights coming through window glass landed on Hades flashing black surface then danced on the transparent gold of the young man's eyes. He didn't show any satisfaction, however, his shallow level of experience inevitably wasn't enough to fool Sephiria. To her, it was only a sentence written in a little more ambiguous way, and she had never had difficulty understanding abstracts.
Nonetheless, the advantage she possessed over him didn't bring her the supposed secureness. Instead, the fore mentioned bizarre sprout kept growing taller from an unknown hole. Its branches stretched in great length, spearheading through the most clogged routes in her heart. Its leaves rattled relentlessly, ringing up the question she had determined to cross out from her concern, at least until when she finished dealing with all the things on her plate.
"Let's work together for the peace of the world." Heartnet had been done with his assessment on the gun. It was time for her to say the final words to end the ceremony.
The moment she completed her speech, the image of Karl in his fury crossed her mind.
He was filled with malice, for being forced to remain uninvolved in a plan he had every right and power to interfere, as a dignitary or as a father.
Karl knew that what he was against had been nagging at her mind, and he knew that she still decided to do it anyway, disregard of their friendship, of the consequences of which she was beyond aware could later come after his boy. His quiet figure stared at her with unmatchable animosity. Callousness that Heartnet could only dream to possess.
Sephiria let the memory fade on its own accord and watched the young man in front of her with flickering sadness as he turned on his heel, taking his leave in firm, long strides.
—
The Captain was a mysterious being.
Train recalled his morning with her, repeatedly, before reached the conclusion.
She had invited him for dinner, which he accepted immediately. He was in no position to decline, anyway.
But the fact that she was a peculiar existence to his knowledge surely did make this dinner more worthwhile.
He remembered realizing he had been starting at her when he was given the gun. It was lucky that he still reacted on time to shift his eyes to the forwarded box, instead of letting his attention fall dead on her face.
When Train checked the gun, seeing his own reflection on its shiny surface, the possibility dawned upon him. *No, it just remained a possibility for few seconds, to be honest.
It was the truth. Like how Hades reflected his image, her two sapphires could do the same. She had noticed his starting.
However, she harbored no irritation. Not even discomfort.
Train had observed her for the longest time in his life. Although she was well aware of his action, her irises revealed no emotion. There was no erraticism with eyeballs movements, and the breathing rhythm remained steady.
She spoke her part, fluently and sufficiently. In the end of the ceremony, a smile was formed on her lips. Its beauty was still vivid on Train's mind, but Train would let it be solely a visible fact. Even without smiling, looking at her alone was enough to prove the point.
But how effortlessly she could do it must be highlighted.
Based on what he had known, those at high ranks such as hers didn't smile often. They didn't see the need to, and people whom they met usually didn't turn up with good surprises for them either.
In short, they lacked the tolerance to put up a believable kind facade with their subordinates.
Yet Sephiria Arks could smile in a naturally heart-warming manner without the tiniest inner struggles.
Train had only seen two types of people that cared to deliver such amity on the surface.
Would this Captain be among those that were manipulative, or those with actual compassion?
His ears started hearing the sounds of car engine approaching, and Train was convinced that he would find the answer in no time.
—
Train laid back in his chair, waiting for his Captain to finish her conversation with the waitress.
They were speaking in a strange language. But the talk seemed to be about tonight's dishes, as his Captain was studying the menu with a considering look.
It might be the case that there had been some changes in tonight's menu due to unexpected issues. Although he couldn't figure out what had been said, Train still noticed the apologetic look the waitress had carried when she came back from the kitchen. Not to mention her relieving breath upon seeing the Captain's understanding attitude.
However, Sephiria didn't appear as a person who was indecisive in even the most unforeseeable situations. Must it be minutes before she could pick dishes to readjust the menu?
Of course, he wanted to quickly finish tonight's dinner. The other diners was peeking on them and the sound of whispers was becoming more buzzing to the ears. Moreover, despite being a big eater, Train's appetite was being greatly affected by luxurious surroundings. The flaring red paint covering the space and the sculpted golden patterns coiling on the surface of large poles was truly an overdone, extravagant combination.
To further press on his impatience, from the moment they settled down, she had completely ignored his presence to focus on a trivial matter that was supposed to be the restaurant's responsibility. He had been expecting to have a clearer observation on her in their conversation, but his irritation with her indifference was growing. Train highly doubted he would be in the mood to prolong their dinner after she finished her conversation.
Was she doing this on purpose? Someone of her rank could not be so careless to unintentionally cause offense.
Was she goading him? To see how long he could keep on his composure?
A heavy breath escaped him, followed by a low hum. Train suddenly felt his heart speeding up gradually, and heat rushing under his muscles as if injecting dopes.
He was the one that planned on examining her. Nevertheless, before he could realize, she had driven him away from his goal. The idea of her testing him was such a critical insult that Train was no longer able to think of anything but standing up to leave immediately.
She dared to make him an experiment for entertainment. With her experience, she definitely didn't lack other methods to obtain what she aimed to know. Yet, she chose to go with the one that fueled him with the feeling of belittlement and unworthiness.
Being looked down on partly frustrated Train, and partly weighed him down with disappointment.
There was no need for more examination now. However, although it was unusual for him to nestle such emotion, Train must admit that hope did emerge inside him.
It had been longer than he could recall that he lost the expectation to see a brighter side of people. A side that was dissimilar to whatever had existed in his memories.
A brief sense of exhaustion fleeted over his being.
So another manipulator, isn't it?
Train narrowed his eyes as he concluded.
"Heartnet, are you feeling well?" He heard her concerning voice. With a blank look, he nodded slightly.
"My apology. The wait must have been unpleasant."
"Don't worry yourself, Captain. Let's just get straight to the point."
His directness halted her for a moment. Her face mirrored a tranquil but bottomless lake.
Nonetheless, she had soon regained the initiative to get down to business. Food was brought out, but neither of them paid any real attention until she finished filling him in with all the information involving his upcoming duties as a Guardian.
Train's hunger had been developing since the second part of her speech. Hence, when she summarized what had been mentioned, Train was genuinely grateful for her concision.
However, there was one problem.
There was no folk and knife.
Only a pair of short sticks was placed next to his porcelain bowl.
He glanced on the opposite site of the table. His Captain was using the two wooden sticks with amazing tactfulness to pick up the food. She must have been used to joining meals in this style.
His exasperation vanished in one second. The tinge of embarrassment that he didn't had the chance to suppress quickly escalated into a howling boiler, replacing any bother that formerly occupied his mind.
The voice of his ration was advising him to ask for her instructions, but it was hardly audible now since his ears was burning and deafened with drumming heartbeats.
As though being hypnotized, his eyes glued on the Captain's feature while he sensed his muscles stiffening in anxiety. She was about to eat another piece of fish coated in delicious tomato sauce when she acknowledged his staring.
Her confusion was signified clearly by the slight knitting of her brows. As she put down the piece of food in her bowl, she quietly inquired him and his behind, searching for any suspicious presence in assumption that he might be on his guard for sensing danger, but to no avail.
He saw her lips parted in hesitation. She must be considering her choice of words to address the situation with precision. Meticulous, so alike to the characteristic of manipulative people.
But that could be his concern some other time, as a small pop in his belly caused vibration to its surrounding area, giving him a foresight of what was about to happen.
"Heartnet..." His shoulders startled at her call.
Then a loud rumbling sound cut through the atmosphere.
His Captain, too surprised to speak, let her sentence drop. The same as what the sound had done to his pride.
The same as what his stomach had done to his pride.
Train bended his head down as low as possible, although he knew how stupid his reaction was. But he had already reached the highest top of self-humiliation, so acting silly now probably couldn't do him more harm.
He was unable to face the person sitting across the table, yet hearing her chuckles still triggered his reflex. After collecting the remnants of his pride, he slowly lifted his vision up to her level.
That was when the unidentifiable sensation once again surged up inside him.
As Train looked up, he found himself held captive by her arch smile. His ration had been rendered powerless.
Her eyes, colored in marine blue, were beaming under the touch of joy. Delicate shoulders were shaking lightly from the attempt to keep her chuckles at bay. An attempt that must have taken great effort, only to result in little success.
Train wouldn't forgive her for her previous actions, as he was well aware they were done on purpose. Nonetheless, the image of her now, unguarded and honest, letting herself be carried by the burst of emotion, though just for transient moments, was still more than enough to turn his sight of the inky sky behind grand glass panels into summer daytime of his forgone childhood.
Manipulators, they truly possessed that kind of power.
The kind that moved every one from the deepest bottom of their hearts.
"Heartnet" he heard her called out for him once more.
"In Chinese or Japanese cuisine, forks and knives are replaced with chopsticks." She lifted up the mentioned objects. Slender fingers moving them to draw his attention while her eyes fell on the untouched ones at the side of his bowl.
This time, Train decided that his hunger could wait.
—-
A ride on the roller coaster of wonderful tastes was the reward for his patience.
After having learnt how to properly use chopsticks, Train sprung at the dishes as though he had become a long starved beast. At first, he still minded his manners and wanted to avoid misbehaving. However, the food was truly enchanting creations. The smells alone were enough to make his stomach growl, but when the taste touched his tongue, it sent electrical waves across his being, numbing his senses in the overwhelming feel of both satisfaction and intense craving.
Most importantly, his Captain didn't seem to be bothered by his rudeness. She ate in a leisurely way, only trying a few pieces of each dish. Azure eyes were absent mindedly aiming at the display of various plates while her jaws moved with deliberateness, soundlessly chewing on the food taken in. She never once lifted her vision up at him throughout his ravishment, possibly to not bring about awkwardness.
In short, they were the precise depiction of the idiom "two sides of the same coin."
How she could preserve such elegance upon facing a masses of delicious food would forever stay an unsolved mystery to Train. However, as long as she didn't judge or get disturbed by his table manner, Train couldn't care less.
It was not until the main course had been spotlessly wiped out did her presence return to his consciousness.
He peeked a glance at her feature, feeling ashamed of himself for having acted discourteous. He was so absorbed in his own delight that he must have paid no heed to keep in mind the common sense of respect. Even if his Captain didn't take offense at it, his previous impoliteness had gone far from an acceptable mistake.
He might not received adequate education. Nevertheless, his parents and Karl had been greatly attentive in teaching him all the needed manners. Then just for short moments of scrumptiousness, he had let their care sink into oblivion.
But she only gave him a tender smile in acknowledgment of his apologetic gesture.
"It's good that you enjoyed the meal. I have worried that the taste can be too strong and unfamiliar." She spoke softly, bringing the smoking teacup closer to inhale its fragrance.
Train didn't miss a word, repeating them in his head to detect any upsetting sign. To his relief, she was truly content with his eagerness during the dinner.
His heart slightly quickened at the fact. However, Train was able to put out the flickering joy in a blink of an eye. He didn't need her recognition, neither did he mean to please her.
"Thank you, Captain." He replied with an even voice, deciding to blind her from his brief disorientation. His hand reached out for the ivory cup whose smoke had vanished due to the cooling down of the contained liquid. It was such a puzzle why people preferred this bitter, unattractive brownish drink over milk.
He had waited for her to say something diplomatic, "It's nothing", for instance. Instead, an unfathomable silence had cast over her being.
"Heartnet, do you have any reason to shed blood for?"
Layers of contemplation were deeply concealed behind her eyes as she spoke, making his inside shift instinctively with caution.
"What are you implying, Captain?" Two amber stones glinted in anticipation. The atmosphere between them seemed to condense, shrinking the growth of the little amount of comfort that had just blossomed.
Keen blue saw through his impassive expression, sensing his warnings, but it was visible that he couldn't pressurize her. Her voice stern as she said her next words. "From this day forth, you will become Hades master."
"However, there is a certain matter I pray you will keep close to your heart, concerning how objects like weapons can ensnare the people who wield them."
Objects like weapons can ensnare the people who wield them.
Train had placed his hands on guns and bullets for the combined years that were longer than half of his life by then. And yet, this was the first time the idea of being devoured by his trusted, loyal company, one that had helped him survive to this day, was made known to him.
"...What would that be?" There was uncertainty, and in the bottom of his soul, there was hope that he hadn't yet to fall down the pit whose existence she had just enlightened him on.
At a distant point on his path of maturing, the bang when trigger was pulled and the clattering when bullet casings met the ground had stopped startling him. In the present, checking on his pistol had even grown into a habit which he would choose to start the day with.
The longer he lived, the more profoundly his hatred to the world imprinted, and the greater that of the world was stored for him.
Train had slaughtered his way up to where he was standing, and he had no intention of giving up on his goal. Despite having realized the possibility of him mistakenly giving death sentence under the drive of power lust, Train still couldn't help but finding annihilating those who faced the end of his gun was as justified as other ways to compete for survival.
Why was immersion in power unethical while everyone was striving for it? Didn't matte what form it existed in, money, influence, violence... people had carried out all types of sin to acquire it. The only difference between him and them was that his method was simpler, more primitive, less in ruse.
Nonetheless, his stomach churned at her mention of the risk. Better than anyone, Train understood the cause for his involuntary reaction.
He didn't deny that power was the fundamental of life. It was worth of sacrifices and, admit it or not, was the running wheel leading people's actions.
But no explanation could defend Zagine for killing his parents.
The corruption, as his Captain addressed, had laid base for a disturbing question, bringing back the state of perplexity in which he had hardly freed himself from.
Within him, there still remained a cement belief in the might of power, the might that could grant even the most unattainable wish. However, at the same time, fear and self-loathe began to plunge their roots, carrying doubt as they traveled fast in his reminiscent on several crimson painted corpses.
Could he, in his aimless vengeance on the lives of others, have taken away the beats of a father's heart?
A father or fathers? He tried to recall the enormous load of information about his previous targets in search for any clue that would wash off the inflating disgust in his chest, but to no avail.
He had forgotten about them. The only remnants that were still etched in his memory were their pleads for mercy, the absence of life at the place where he delivered Chronos's punishments to their bodies, and the cold silence when the missions ended successfully.
Perhaps his targets were just purely scumbags who had regards for nothing but their own pathetic pleasure and interest.
Or perhaps they were just luckier than his parents, who could never get the chance to shield their child from the approaching mishap. He didn't want to know.
"Weapons can bestow great power upon people. But at the same time, there is a hidden danger that you will loose yourself in the maddening intoxication of that power."
Words that landed on his ears without weight, yet pressed on his heart with the heaviest force.
"To prevent this from happening, the most important thing is 'what you desire'..."She seemed to have speculated the effects her words would have on him. Firmness was added to her sentence in a well calculated amount, serving its aim of merging into his ration.
"Your purpose for wielding the gun and for whom you fire it. These convictions must never be forgotten."
Train stared at his blur reflection on the porcelain plate, letting her words resound in his head.
Purpose and for whom...her saying was plain, but so sour that it was hard to digest.
The new guardian gave a meditative breathe before deciding to lock her words up in his chest, putting them at places where his viciousness was most ardent.
In cases when he preferred bullets than reasons, it was good to know that he still had a safety to flick before pulling the trigger.