Hi all! Hope you all survived into May, spring is coming in my neck of the woods but it's certainly not here yet. Thanks so much to IcyLady for the comment-it's a good reminder to get my butt into gear, I've been letting this go a little. The disease in this arc is meant to be cholera, I was wandering around wikipedia the other day looking for outbreaks in the 1890s, and it fit my purposes! It's waterborne, so it spreads incredibly easily when you have a bad water system and it's easy to avoid when you have other water sources. Sorry to hear life's been a bit of a rush, hope things loosen up a little for you!
A thin column of smoke writhed in the air like a snake trying to shed its skin.
"Ouch! Shit, fuck, goddamn it to shit—"
"Language!" said Lenalee.
Daisya dropped the steaming billy kettle on the leaf mould carpet that surrounded their scraped-off fire pit. Thank goodness, the soft landing braced the kettle and held it upright.
"Shhhhhh—ugar," he hissed.
"I'm glad you didn't spill it, but you should really be more careful."
She searched through the sack beside her for some cloth to pick the kettle up with while Daisya flailed around like a scarecrow in a high wind. It was only a few metres to the stream, which would take care of his burn a lot faster, but maybe he needed the dramatics.
"I was careful," he whined, "You think I'd pick that up with my bare hands?"
"I mean you should check to make sure you don't have any holes in your covering, see?" She held up her wool-wrapped hand to him as a demonstration. "You might go put some cold water on that, if it's really burnt, it will help it heal faster."
Daisya made a face. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
While he skulked off to lick his wounds, Lenalee grabbed the kettle by its thin wire handle and placed it on top of a rock near the campfire to cool.
Theirs was actually a nice campsite. They held off finding one as long as they could, to try and cover more ground, but Daisya eventually started looking for the stream two hours before sunset. The forest bordering the farms grew up from shrubs and short and skinny beech, but as they tracked further in it turned to spruce. Beneath the needles it was cold, yes, but dry and pretty bare. It only took a few minutes' walk along the stream before they found a patch of dirt big enough to start a fire on.
The sun hadn't set then, she thought. It was hard to tell on cloudy days. They didn't have much choice to start a fire, since there was only so long either of them could go without water. Their canteens were almost empty of the water from the farm's rain barrels.
Hunching her knees close to her chest, Lenalee closed her eyes and drank in the fire.
Dinner had been bread, cabbage, and sausages bought from the farmer. Tithing meant that the Order was never short on money, though it was kind of a weird way to put it. As far as she could tell, it wasn't an organized collection like the church did in the past. General Yeager avoided the subject when she asked about it a few months ago. Probably it was some kind of extortion. Innocence could only directly contact akuma, but when it was stored in matter it could have some pretty big side effects. That was just what the higher-ups would do. They threatened people until they gave them money. Or ask for payment from the pathetically grateful.
Oh, well. It meant that she and Daisya were going to go to bed on full stomachs, and it meant that they would have the energy to defend themselves if anything attacked during the night. That was the important thing.
She opened her eyes and poked the fire, nudging some charred wood further into the coals.
"Geez, that's cold."
Daisya sat down cross-legged beside her. They'd left their bedrolls at the inn, but she'd gone out while Daisya started the fire and collected enough to make a mat of decomposing leaves. It smelled. They could sleep through the night if they stayed next to the fire, though, wrapped up in their coats.
She held her hands out to the fire next to his, which he'd stripped of bandages to wash. The light showed patches of scarring on his arms, which more or less faded away to clean skin on the hands.
"Aren't those uncomfortable?" she asked.
"What?"
"Bandages. They should chafe. Also, you don't change them as much as you should."
Daisya laughed. "So I stink, that's it?"
That was true sometimes, though it was surprising that it wasn't true all the time. But, he was avoiding her question.
"I can only smell the smoke, right now. My dressings usually aren't bad enough for me to take off before I need to, but I can't imagine wearing them all the time. Why do you do it?" she asked directly.
"Ah, well," said Daisya, "Actually, I don't have a lot of feeling. I got used to these ones after a few years. Plus, I'm healed up, but scars don't feel as much as regular skin. I'm mostly scars. So, it's basically fine!"
He flipped his hands over, exposing the backs to the fire and showing Lenalee the full pattern of marks.
"That makes sense. Nurse told you how not to get gangrene, right?" she asked.
"You're joking," he sniggered. "She gave me lectures for days when I told her I was keeping these on. Let me guess, you get one every time you bust up your legs, right?"
That reminded her, she should probably do her exercises before bed. It would keep her warm. The fire was the only thing she could see in the dark, that and the small circle it lit up. They should be sleeping soon. Time to start with a few stretches.
"I don't try to get injured," she said firmly. "It's hard to hold back when you know people might die if you don't."
"Yeah. I get it. I'm lucky I don't have that problem."
Lenalee started on lunges after a few simple warm-ups, holding them to make sure her body started to burn.
"You get injured as much as I do," she pointed out.
"Not as much as," Daisya countered. "Just worse."
He jumped up as well, starting on his own set of exercises. They were worse than hers, since he was older and bigger, but he slacked off more.
"If you don't lean into the movement, then it won't work as well," she said.
"Who cares? It's not like Kanda's here."
"You should still be trying. It's harder to get hurt as you get stronger."
"Sure, but I get hurt because I'm not scared. Doesn't matter how strong you are, I don't think anyone—" He panted. "—would be fine after some of the stuff that happened to me."
"That sounds a lot like bragging."
He grinned at her, firelight filling the slits of his eyes.
A few months ago, maybe closer to a year, she knew there must have been something she missed. Daisya was in the infirmary for a long time, and he was sick when he came out of it. Kanda hadn't told her anything. Marie said Daisya had just broken his leg in a bad fall, but it couldn't be that. Whatever it was, no one talked about it.
Switching positions, she looked away from him.
That was fine. She didn't like to talk about it when she got hurt. It reminded her that no matter what, she was going to be injured or killed if she stayed, and no matter what, she couldn't bear to leave everyone behind. Not when she'd lost so much already. Antonina died so long ago, it barely seemed like she'd been there at all. The others had left.
An hour or so later, the fire was stacked with a few thick, unburnt branches and she was lying between Daisya's cloak and her own, curled up as tightly as she could. It was still cold, but their cramped and improvised sleeping sheet did help. The only question was whether either of them would kick the other by accident once the dreams took hold. As tired as she was, she probably wouldn't feel it. There were so many smells competing that she couldn't tell what was slowly numbing her nose. Maybe the cold?
Daisya struggled for a moment beside her as he tried to change position, getting comfortable while staying awake enough to keep watch.
She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and drifted off, bouncing between memories as her brain tried to make sense of the day.
…
"Are you going to survive?" Kanda had asked, some time between the beginning and now.
"What? I only hurt my knee, even my brother isn't worried about that."
Kanda had grumbled.
"I don't worry. I meant, are you planning to die."
"What sort of question is that? Nobody wants to die."
"It's not about wanting. Will you survive and retire, or are you planning to die as an Exorcist?"
"I'll retire, then!"
"When?"
"Well, there are a lot of old generals. Maybe after I'm General Yeager's age. I can retire and teach the new Exorcists."
"Yeah, will you survive that long?"
"I'm going to."
"You'll do it?"
"Yes. There's still a lot of work I need to do."
"You won't risk your life, then. You'll kill akuma and you'll collect Innocence, but you'll let someone else take the risk."
"No, I'm going to protect people. Innocence…it doesn't matter, so long as everyone's safe."
"You won't save everyone."
"I'll save as many people as I can. I'll stay alive so I can do that."
"Then you'll have to sacrifice someone. If you can't risk your life, and you won't let your friends die, then someone else will."
"It doesn't have to be anyone."
"It will be."
"Fine, if you're going to be like that. I'll stay alive, and I'll save my friends, even if I have to let everyone else die."
"Good. What if you have to choose between yourself and your friends?"
"I'll figure it out."
"That's not an answer."
"It is! I'll think about it. I…I don't want to leave my brother behind. But maybe, he'll die. Or someone else will have someone who needs them more. I'll decide then. If it happens."
"Good."
"Why are you talking like this? Did something happen?"
"No."
"Then why are you talking about this? Even you're not this gloomy all the time."
"I'm not gloomy. Either you'll survive, or you won't. I wanted to know."
"I don't think it's that simple."
"No."
…
Road tapped her pen against her cheek, reviewing the page in front of her. With five hundred akuma combing the area between Bremen proper and the port, thirty-six hours was more than enough for them to cover every piece of land. She had checked and double-checked, and her results weren't making any more sense than last time.
With a flick of her wrist, she spun the umbrella absentmindedly.
"Lero!"
"Do you think they've missed them?" she asked.
"Maybe they were in disguise, lero!"
The desk she sat at was beautifully hewn out of an ancient elm by a Level Two's gunfire, a little rough at the top maybe, but nice enough for purpose. The chair was blasted from a beech. She hopped up on its seat, craning her neck to see if the numbers would reveal anything from a different angle.
"Don't be stupid," she murmured. "The Level Twos out there can sense Innocence."
"That's only if they use it, lero!"
She spun the umbrella faster, listening to its inane babble blur together as she read through the notes again. The little domain she'd made for them in the woods was quite cosy, with velvet walls and a warm hearth. Her jacket and gloves hung on a hook from the wall of this pocket of reality.
"It can't be the Finders," she pouted. "Aren't they smart enough to figure it out? They couldn't just ignore all of them getting horribly murdered, could they?"
Sighing, she ran a finger under the names.
"Then again, it is the Order."
A few words squeaked beside her one by one. "I'm—sure—you'll—find—them—Lady—Road—le—ro—"
Road let the umbrella go. As it flew into the distance, the screaming ran down from high to low pitch.
"Who was it, hm? That old man…the schoolmaster…that lumberjack…" She felt a shiver of disgust. "That little trapeze artist should be scared of me, they wouldn't send her. Ugh. Would they?"
Flopping back down in the chair, she waited for Lero to say something impertinent. He didn't, though.
"Lero? Lero!" she yelled. "Get back here!"
A faint, strangled voice called from off in the distance. "Yes, Miss Road."
"And don't slack off like that!"
She pouted. None of them had been spotted by the stupid Level Ones or the singleminded Level Twos. But who else could the Order possibly send, when she even went out of her way to show up and show off? Wearing the crown out in public, good golly, she should be swimming in generals!
"Oh, eugh. Not him! Lero, tell me they're not sending that horrible, sleazy ginger."
Then again, it might not be so bad. The sooner she was able to wipe him off the map, the better. She'd heard horror stories from the Level Twos about the age of the women on his arm. Tasteless.
"What, Miss Road?" Lero sounded a little bit closer. Good. At least he wasn't being cheeky.
"Do you even know who the generals are?"
"Excuse me! The Lord Earl told me I have to keep you on track, you know? I know more about them than you do, lero!"
Banging the umbrella once against the desk, Road put him down gently.
"Who d'you think they're going to send, then? I hope it's someone fun. Old men are so boring. You can't play with them, you just have to kill them."
"I…uh…I believe…the Earl thought that General Yeager was…ugh…most likely to arrive…lero."
"Really? Why didn't he tell me that?"
"Miss Road, he did…ugh…inform you that your mission was to draw out General Yeager, lero."
Not really listening any more, she cracked her knuckles one by one. Maybe the Earl would let her have a little fun when she'd completed the mission. He had really yelled at her when she came back without a high-ranking head though, so she would wait another day. Just one.
"Lero, sing a song!"
"Yes, Miss Road," the umbrella said miserably.