Lag—one of the most infamous concepts known in the game. From what people have gleaned from evidence, it is the unavoidable repercussion from the many powers the game bestows upon its players. From having an impossible immunity to supposedly severe injuries, to being able to 'see' in-game and amplify a special camera's entrapment capacity, lag is the apparent compensation. This is the most logical conclusion. The human body can only take so much, after all. While the backlash is not enough to kill, this great bestowment of power enervates one's 'essence' that it ends up disconnecting the 'soul' from its body momentarily.
No one wants to experience lag themselves. But no one will not take advantage of it when it attacks others. This is true for both survivors and hunters. And yet, this whole day has been nothing but a string of missed opportunities for the hunters to capture one survivor every time she lags. There must be a reason and she will find out about it.
As Helena sits waiting for the last match, trying to drown out the indistinct chatter surrounding her, she mentally reiterates the details of her last-minute plan. It has to work, she'll make sure of it. There may be a chance she won't get her desired results but it wouldn't be from a lack of trying. She just knows that there's something... something she should know about this mystery.
Then after this day, after this match, after knowing the truth (hopefully), she will make amends with her beloved. The suspicion that he himself may have something to do with this hasn't left her musings, however. His thoughtfulness is delightful but also concerning—if it truly involves Joseph, just what is he doing? Helena can only hope that she's worrying about nothing.
Regardless, whether her intuition is correct or not, she just wants to be back in his arms again.
The final match starts. The map is Moonlit River Park. And as the most important detail for her precarious plan—it's 8v2.
Decoding nimbly on the first cipher she finds, The Mind's Eye anxiously looks around. The first seconds pass without lag showing its symptoms yet. Only as the match progresses, when three survivors have incurred damage and another two have entered her peripheral vision does the numbness start to show itself. Good.
Picking up her cane, she hurriedly flees the machine, heading towards the hunters' direction. A fellow decoder may have glanced at her, undoubtedly questioning her actions. Perhaps even her pet is thinking the same. It's a big stupid risk and everyone would reprimand her for it, but she is determined to push her perilous plan through. Surely one match is not too high a cost.
"Don't decode together!" she signals the Gardener she finds by the cipher nearest to the hunters. The ghostly girl quickly runs off without a word. The decoding confectionery begins examining her immediate surroundings.
The opponents are dreadfully nearby. Mini Jo looks on worriedly, inching closer as he clutches the portrait tightly in his hands. Mad Eyes has been erecting fences everywhere, trying to contain the Gardener. The Geisha has just chaired the Thief and now looking for another victim.
The Mind's Eye fidgets as she intentionally decreases her decoding pace. Half of her teammates have been chaired and the ciphers are almost half-finished. They'd have to target the fastest decoder sooner or later. She has to make her move now.
Her fingers stop, her whole body stills. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes to steady herself. Helena has always been brave, ready to face any challenges, never doubting herself. Her only worry is that she might fail to make this as flawless as possible. Everything must be perfect or she might not get her answers. It's time.
Missing the calibration mark—one 'mistake'—causes the cipher to emit an electric shock. Enraged and Lady Thirteen snap their heads at the sound, coming her way faster than expected. Dark Cake starts running.
She does her best to kite around the fragmented walls and decrepit stalls, remembering to expend enough effort in case it's required. Lag keeps dragging her down like heavy chains but she has had experience to hold her own even in such dire circumstances.
A scrimmage by the slide gives the survivor an injury from the female hunter. Even better, another hit inflicted by the old man. The survivor glances back at the enemies, their mirth ringing loudly against the throbbing pain. Nothing about her pursuers' behavior indicates anything close to clemency. Has she been wrong to think that the hunters themselves would reveal the answer to her?
But this is far from over. She can't give up yet. All possible requirements must be satisfied.
The staggering survivor runs to the large circus tent, climbing up the flight of stairs leading to the stage. Colliding against the canvas, she surveys the scene before her, panting heavily as beads of sweat drip down her face. The hunters are fast approaching, high railings are rising up to corner each flank, butterflies fluttering about in wait. And as she intakes shallow gulps of air, the strength in her legs is beginning to leave her. Lag is just one step away from taking over. Perfect.
For the final touch, the blind woman pushes herself off the tent wall, 'tripping' over her own feet and falling down on her knees atop the rotund dais. Assuming the state of a helpless victim of lag, she lets her body go completely limp, collapsing on her face cradled by her arms. A squeak of panic from her small companion accompanies the muted thud of her cane falling out of her hand. It's hardly acting—just remembering the numbness in her limbs, the bitterness in her tongue, the utter loss of awareness... It's happened hundreds of times that all this comes naturally to her.
Trying to stifle her anxious trembling and pounding heart, she waits for the inevitable with bated breath. The darkness shows her everything happening all at once. Mini Jo is pulling at her arm and willing her to get up. The hunters' evil cackling echo throughout the large tent, their heavy footsteps approaching the stage. Lag is a heavy blanket covering her from head to toe. She doesn't fight it. She will have her answers now.
The pestering on her arm suddenly stops. The vibrations resounding off the ground reach The Mind's Eye's senses, describing how the Miniature Photographer has leapt off of the dais to… Is he going to confront the hunters?
Unseen by the 'unconscious' woman, the miniature hunter throws the photograph up in the air with all his strength in front of the attackers. A bright blue light emanates from it, bathing the advancing hunters in its glow but not halting their simultaneous assault. Spectators watch in awe as the portrait reveals a familiar figure from its depths...
The fan blade and the mechanical hammer are intercepted by a scimitar, locking the two weapons in position in a resonant clang. Both hunters share a gasp of shocked bewilderment, rendering them and the witnessing survivors to gawk speechlessly. The swordsman emerging from the light pushes both of them away and down the stairs, the loud clanging of weapons ringing throughout and even outside the tent.
After the light fades, a heavy stillness follows as everyone present tries to make sense of the scene unfolding.
The Mind's Eye waits in bewildering anticipation as the silence drags on. The loud exchange of weapons earlier still reverberates in her head, shaking her entire being as all trains of thought halted to a sudden stop. She couldn't be more desperate to know the truth.
Then, a simple question abruptly presents it without a warning, making her heart skip a whole beat.
"Joseph?"
The two hunters are standing at the base of the middle stairwell, faces contorted in disbelief at the sight in front of them. On the stage, poised with cape billowing in front of the unconscious survivor and obscuring her from the duo hunters' view, is none other than the Photographer himself.
Mad Eyes adjusts his goggles to better see, still looking up at the intruder. "You can't be serious…"
The Geisha gasps, fan covering her mouth. "What are you doing? Even here?"
Fleetingly, as the falling photograph reaches his awaiting fingers, the Photographer raises an eyebrow at their words. But upon realization, his serious reply comes. "I'm sure you both know already. I won't let you hurt my Dark Cake now that she's lagging."
The duo hunters exchange a look. The curious survivors huddle by the tent's entrances, eyes wide and mouths agape at the horrifying imagery of three hunters in the match. And one of the few hunters prohibited from entering 8v2 is in attendance—it doesn't take long before the rest is gathered together, watching the exchange onstage from outside.
The Mind's Eye, the star of the show, lays immobile and utterly disbelieving of what she's hearing. Joseph, the Photographer, is right here, in front of her—in 8v2! And the hunters are not surprised at all!? Her intuition was right all along... Joseph has a lot to explain!
Immediately, Dark Cake tries to push her weight off the ground to get up on her feet. But being the cruel jokester that it is, lag suddenly decides to attack her now, pinning her limbs against the dais.
Please, not now! Her numb fingers can't even twitch in resistance. Just when I've gotten my answer!
A sigh of disapproval from the hunters interrupts her thoughts, likely shaking their heads to reprimand a rebellious child.
"Don't be ridiculous, Joseph," Enraged scolds, more amused than angered. "This is a survival game. You can't tail the missus like a pup every single time."
"Yes, we've heard from the others," Lady Thirteen concurs. "You've been very busy all day denying hunters their right to hunt. Step aside, please."
She puts one foot up the creaky stairs but doesn't continue on. Azrael hasn't moved an inch, sword still raised.
"Joseph, if you please."
"No."
Frowning, the green-dressed lady unleashes a tinkling butterfly to latch onto the survivor. With barely a flick of his wrist, the blue-clad gentleman cuts it in half with his blade, dissolving it into glittering dust. Clearly affronted, the huntress steps back down, her frown now a scowl.
W-What's happening…? is Helena's singular thought, still pressed down on the dais. Without her cane, she can only have a vague picture of the scene. From what she can perceive, Joseph's mere presence, steadfastly barring the two from advancing on her, is the obvious cause of the overbearing atmosphere.
"Please move aside," the usually composed huntress is now soundly irritated. "You've done enough meddling with the others. Do you wish to obstruct us?" The threat doesn't go unnoticed by the survivor on the ground.
"I stand by what I said. I will protect Helena."
Joseph...
"You'll be punished for this," Burke states matter-of-factly. "Banned, even."
"A small price to pay as long as she's safe and unharmed. I'm willing to face the consequences. I won't ever leave her alone."
You're so sweet and stubborn, it worries me sometimes...
A blank silence follows that not even the noisiest cipher machine disturbs. Helena wonders if this is what always happens when she's unconscious: Joseph opposing hunters for her sake. But Galatea's and Percy's demeanor changed when she came to... Is that what's going to happen now, too?
It seems to be so, as Burke sighs in answer, tone acceding and exasperated, "Of course."
Helena can faintly hear a sigh (of relief?) from Joseph as the distant engine whirring and heavy metallic footsteps depict the architect turning away to leave. "Michiko, this is a waste of time. We have a match to attend to."
"No, Burke. Joseph is the one who should leave. Now."
That's strange. Michiko isn't one to argue, being more amenable than most. Perhaps, Joseph's stubbornness finally ticked her off. He shouldn't be here but Helena knows (and she hopes) that he won't ever stop defending her. Yet she can't help the worry creeping up on her. An increasingly intense heaviness hangs in the air as more words are being exchanged.
"Leave it. It's not worth the time," the old man tries to dissuade his comrade but she won't have it.
"Joseph, this is 8v2, and you are not allowed here," the woman speaks up once more, voice unnaturally monotone. "I'd like to ask you to please leave and let the match continue. You've been indulged and that's enough."
"I am a man of my word, Michiko. You would have to fight me if you want to capture her," Joseph is quick to rebut, recalcitrant as always. "Besides, you have plenty of survivors to pick on. Why can't you just let my darling go?"
"Oh." The Geisha's voice is curt, laced with calm resentment. "You want to know why?"
Helena feels a shiver run down her spine. She doesn't need to see to feel the tension. Oh, no.
"It's because... " Barely calm at first, then in a startling yell, "... she has you! She has a darling so willing to risk himself for her sake!"
Ripples of energy radiate from Lady Thirteen as she levitates off the ground. Her elegant form, once attired in a rich verdant color, turns into a fearsome wraith clothed in porcelain white and bloody crimson. Her luscious hair floats like a halo of daggers around her head and her eyes gleam in a murky red. Throughout the whole scene, Azrael unflinchingly stays in place with sword at the ready, covering Dark Cake from the harsh gust of fury.
"How can someone like her and someone like you still have a chance at happiness while I don't?!" Every word uttered is drenched in despair. "I never even got the chance to see my darling for the last time. But you! You two sicken me! You even have the gall to ruin my match! How dare you mock me! Now why would I let you have your way when I wasn't allowed to?!"
The ugly silence returns. No one dares to make a sound or move. Being the most speechless and motionless, Helena can only wait for Joseph's reply, wishing that it wouldn't escalate things any further...
"Life hasn't been good to you, Michiko," he starts, voice compassionate yet tense. "And you have my sympathies. I can only imagine the pain and suffering you've gone through. But we are the same: we love too deeply. I've already lost my brother, my family, my home." Raising the sword by his side, he brings it down in an elegant arc. His steely gaze is as sharp as the blade's gleaming edge. "I won't lose Helena, especially in a game."
Growling in unbridled fury, the Red Butterfly pounces on him, dagger aiming for his throat. Blocking it in time, and realizing that the woman is mad beyond reason, the Photographer materializes the photograph in his right hand, tossing it behind him to take The Mind's Eye once again.
The survivor shudders as a familiar albeit long-forgotten sensation engulfs her. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself trapped once more in that suffocating abyss, which she now realizes is Joseph's photograph.
Panic seizes her heart. Joseph, what are you doing?!
"Little Me!" comes his harried voice followed by the weird feeling of being tossed around. Outside, the occupied portrait is thrown to the little hunter who clumsily jumps to catch it. "Run!"
Mini Jo nods, scrambling on his little feet to get as far away as he could with the card in tow. The survivors gasp and the hunters gape at the card that somehow disappeared from their vision.
The Geisha is more angered than ever, screeching at the challenger defying her. "You'll pay for your insolence!"
The survivor trapped in the photograph stares blankly at the emptiness surrounding her.
She still can't believe it. The whole truth of this mystery... The hunters' clemency, the dungeon, his absence... It was all Joseph?! And he wasn't asking for their consideration at all; he was directly opposing everyone who tried to incapacitate her. And to top it off, Mini Jo himself is apparently an accomplice!
Her brows furrow under the hand covering her face in agitation. As much as her heart melts at his solid resolve to protect her, it upsets her that he would do such a risky thing in the first place. Doing this dangerous stunt behind her back and enlisting her pet to aid him... Joseph, you!
But towering over her emotions is urgent worry—he might not survive the danger he knowingly put himself into. Witnessing the heated argument earlier concerns her that it will not only continue but also end badly for Joseph. It may be simply irrational fear, but she senses that he himself may not be in his best condition right now. He has been doing this 'all day', after all. The more she thinks about it, the more upset she becomes. She needs to stop this fight before things get out of hand.
But, first things first...
Taking refuge in a conclave of walls, Mini Jo tries to catch his breath, leaning against the concrete with the portrait firmly secured in his tiny hands. Then a tremor suddenly alerts him. Dumbstruck and wide-eyed, he stares at the picture as it shakes, the pounding coming from within increasing in intensity every passing moment. He lets out a horrified squeak as it finally flies out of his hands, spewing out his master… who is undoubtedly angry.
The Miniature Photographer gawks in panic as The Mind's Eye stares him down.
The photograph finds its way to her hand and to her affirmation, the portrait of the gentleman within is indeed missing. Frowning, she turns to her pet... who would probably be running already if he wasn't so scared.
"Little Jo, I'm not mad at you." She kneels down to his height, trying to rein in her ire at his prior deceit. "But you have to answer my questions. Just a nod or shake and don't lie."
The little hunter merely nods in trembling acquiescence.
Joseph appreciates a little sparring session every once in a while. It keeps his body in shape and his skills polished. But this is not one. His adversary is literally after his head, all her strikes meant to kill. Is she is still aware that none of their slashes would ever draw blood?
Of course, he tries his best to oppose her, parrying every strike and jab while giving attacks of his own. But it's hard to focus and give it his all when: 1) his opponent is clearly not in her right mind and that makes him feel awful; 2) the other opponent, though not as upfront, is doing well in confining him with his bothersome barricades; 3) he doesn't know where Helena is; 4) the gamemasters surely know about his 'illegal' activities now and may remove him out of the match anytime; and most alarming of all, 5) he is not in his best condition. In other words, things are not going to end well for him.
Since realizing that Helena decided to enter an 8v2 match, he has been panicking the whole time preluding this battle. Anticipation kept building up in him as each second passed, seeing how everything culminated in that confrontation in the tent. It all seemed too deliberate to be accidental. Almost as if Helena set this up—purposefully seeking the answers to the questions plaguing her mind, the truth of this mystery. And all too willingly, despite the suspicions he's had, he gave it to her.
She's mad. I know it.
A piercing wail disrupts his thoughts as the foe dashes towards the butterfly fluttering by his side. In a swift curvet, he moves out of the way; only a sliver of fabric is grazed by the blade.
The Geisha in her Prajna form is still hot on his trail, the fiery anger in her eyes never dimming. She even throws an unwitting survivor overboard after the Photographer manages to juke her with the maze of pallets.
He dashes across the bridge where a wall is beginning to rise from the ground. He manages to cross it in time and the springing fence halts the huntress mid-dash. Behind him, the woman snarls from the other side of the metal bars.
Azrael stands up to his full height, turning to face the feral barricaded Lady Thirteen. He takes a deep long breath from his burning lungs, clutching his chest as his heart pounds loudly against his ribcage. His parched throat and weakened limbs further remind him of his day-long abstention of food and rest. The exhaustion, the audience's clamor, and his opponent's rebuke to her partner deafen his ears that he can't even hear his own haggard breathing.
He almost forgets the audience until a distinct yell sounding like, "Go, Grandpa!" drifts to his ears. Won't anyone cheer for him, though? "Save Helena!" Oh, never mind. As long as the survivors don't intervene, they can watch for all he cares. Nonetheless, a smile forms on his lips; it is still support.
The astral specter waves the scimitar with a sharp swoosh, preparing himself for another attack. Clenching his jaw tight, he struggles to compose himself as he keeps his impassive gaze on the enemy. The fight against the Undead was far more taxing, but this one tests his stamina more than his strength. He just needs to hold on...
Using her Soul Departure, Lady Thirteen swoops down from the sky. It takes a mere sidestep to dodge. In that second, an opportunity presents itself: he could easily deliver a paralyzing blow on her exposed back.
But he lets it slip pass. He has had many chances to subdue her. No, he doesn't plan on losing, of course. Yet it wouldn't be right to win like this, either. Despite all the animosity Michiko has shown, Joseph won't let his own pride control him. Especially since he started all of this.
In all honesty, he didn't mean to provoke her in the first place. Or... perhaps he did. But for all the insulting accusations she hurled at him, he truly tried to restrain his own temper because he genuinely sympathizes with her. But she didn't have to go offend them both with such vitriol. He simply told her the truth. He won't ever apologize for being shamelessly in love. And neither will Helena.
Hopefully, Michiko will be satisfied by the end of it all after unleashing her wrath on him. As long as Helena is safe and that he's sent his message across, it will still be his victory.
Mad Eyes watches on at the dueling hunters from a bench, having given up trying to catch up with the 'youngsters'. He's not really keen on siding with either of them but with the Geisha being his partner in the match, he's made ample contribution to her cause by drawing random lines on his consoles. Two or three were deliberate to deter the Photographer but he would rather not get more involved than that.
He wants a fair fight, honestly. It's not everyday that hunters genuinely fight over a survivor. Joseph is such a mettlesome man who always gets what he wants, to the point that he obstructed the others in their own matches and provoked the composed Michiko to lash out on him. Burke himself is irritated by the interruption; he didn't expect Joseph to be brazen enough to do it in 8v2. They may have the same chronological age yet the latter's constant contumacy makes him seem younger. Perhaps that's why the Photographer is still a 23-year-old in appearance; he's 'young in mind'.
Perhaps as 'young-minded' as The Mind's Eye, Helena. Burke can't say much about their relationship, only that they look so happy with each other. As long as they don't do anything wrong... like disrupting the game. Another stunt like this and the gamemasters might ban them for good.
"Mr. Burke!" A female voice cuts him in thought, accompanied by the familiar tapping sound of a cane. Looking over his shoulder, he grins at the survivor running up to him.
"Ah, there you are, Miss Adams. Where'd you been? Those two," he points at the raging battle in the distance with his golden hammer, "have been fighting for you this whole time."
"No..." the bespectacled girl gasps. "It's got to stop! Can you help me, sir?" she implores, wide dark orbs pleading.
The old white-robed man purses his lips, turning to the fight. "I tried stopping Michiko but she'll never listen. Joseph doesn't want to fight but the only way I can see this ending is if she tires first or he incapacitates her. So far, things don't look good for him. I can't help you, I'm afraid."
The survivor panics even more at his grave words. "But if I don't stop it now, Joseph might get seriously hurt! He's sure to get banned now. I don't want him to suffer more."
Mad Eyes sagely strokes his beard in contemplation. There is perhaps only one solution to this but... "What are you going to do, then?"
"I don't know..." she dejectedly admits, turning her gaze to the spectacle from afar. "But I'll figure it out! I have to!" With that resolution, she sprints away and towards the ongoing fight.
To be young and full of determination... It's always an entertaining sight to see. It almost makes him root for them, hoping for their triumph despite causing everything that's wrong with this match.
Chuckling to himself, Mad Eyes stands up from his seat and begins following the girl, hoping to get a better view of the match's denouement.
It's too much. Joseph's body can't handle it anymore, barely hanging on to the last vestiges of his strength. All his adroitness and agility mean nothing now with his stamina depleted. Worst of all is that his opponent shows no sign of stopping in her blind flurry of attacks. Her rage-fueled endurance is a frightening thing to behold. It's all over for him soon...
Nothing else but sensations assault his weary mind and body. Over the cacophony of sounds, he recognizes a butterfly's chime, the creature zooming towards his face. The moment he slices it in half, a dark blur flashes in front of him. His arm instinctively blocks the blade. A deafening clang after and his sword flies out of his grasp. Something whizzes past his head. Then a sharp pain surges through his entire frame as a momentary darkness engulfs his vision.
He doesn't know what or how it happened, but when clarity next returns, he is already down on his knees. Groaning, he attempts to lift himself off the ground but it only pulls him further. His limbs finally collapse under him and he grits his teeth in frustration, unable to even find his weapon. Wheezing in shallow breaths, his hazy gaze trains on the huffing huntress advancing towards him. Her livid face tells him all he needs to know. Shutting his eyes, he waits for the final blow...
"STOP!"
His eyes snap open at the sound. Amidst the cloudy chaos, he sees her now in front of him, his dauntless defender standing tall in all her azure and golden glory. Relief at seeing her, then panicked alertness startle him into action despite all the fatigue weighing him down. However, his body refuses to move anymore and a faintly choked "Helena..." is all he can manage to let out before exhaustion finally silences him...
The Geisha's bloodshot eyes glower venomously at the survivor standing between her and her prey. As in before the start of all this mayhem, someone dares to interrupt her! First, Joseph and now— "Get out of my way, girl!"
"Please stop this!" The Mind's Eye cries out, arms spread out in a protective shield. "Joseph can't fight anymore. I'm the one you're after."
"He challenged us. He has to face the consequences," the Geisha snarls, having lost interest in pursuing the survivor. Unless... "Or are you challenging us, too?"
The blind girl doesn't budge, doesn't surrender her defiance directed to the ashen woman. "Two against one isn't fair at all! You've already beaten him up. Isn't that enough?"
The huntress' scowl only deepens. "I said, move!"
Lady Thirteen brings down her blade, intending to incapacitate the girl once and for all. But to her and everyone's shock, the survivor has the impudence to block her strike with the candy cane. Even with visible difficulty, Dark Cake manages to push the assailant away, unyielding in her resistance.
"No! I'll protect him!" Clutching her staff tightly, she glares at the huntress, utterly unafraid. "I won't let you hurt him anymore!"
Lady Thirteen has had enough. Raising her weapon once more, she screams with feverish fury, "You sim—!"
All of a sudden, a rumbling wall erupts from the ground, shielding the two lovers from the huntress' deadly blow. A collective gasp can be heard from the audience and the participants themselves are too shocked to react.
"What...?" The Geisha gapes at the wall barring her, her throat letting out a low growl at the sight. "What?!" she screams at it then starts viciously attacking the metal rail.
The ear-piercing clanging of her blade against the bars causes so much discomfort to everyone's ears. Particularly to The Mind's Eye, but she steadfastly holds her ground, against both the ever-present influence of lag and the unpredictable ferocity of the huntress. Meanwhile, the wide-eyed Photographer is immobile on the ground, amazed at his lover's bravery and unsure of what's next to happen.
But for as long as it stood, the Geisha does nothing else but lash out at the fence. No thoughts resound in her head, only blind rage that's now beginning to dissipate at every strike. Again and again, her weapon meets the rails, creating a crisp echo that reverberates against her ears. Something made her feel this way. Something triggered this loathsome jealousy within her, reminding her of feelings long buried and almost forgotten. How dare they anger her like this?!
"Michiko..."
Why did she have to suffer like this? Fate has already dealt her a cruel hand and now it mocks her with a scalding reminder of what she lost. Why does it torture her once more? Why? WHY?!
"Michiko, that's enough." The insistent familiar voice pulls her back to reality. She blinks, finally coming back to her senses. Physically and emotionally drained, her trembling hand releases its tight grip on the fan and lets it fall in a thud. A faint tinkling sound signals the end of the battle, the last metallic echo dying out.
As the wall falls down before her glazed eyes, as her form returns to its beauteous self once more, reality finally catches up to her and her knees buckle in exhaustion. Taking in her surroundings for the first time since the battle, she sees the hunter she incapacitated, the survivor defending him, the audience onlooking. Has she truly lost control? She can't remember much of the fight, only that she wanted to make the offender pay for crossing her. Something inside her broke and it took control of her body and mind, leading her to spit out unacceptable invectives and assault her fellow hunter. Michiko, who has always prided herself in having impeccable composure, lost her own cool to a few simple words.
Seeing survivors—those who can still choose a better life—in such happiness wouldn't have fazed her. But to see a hunter—someone whose destiny is as wretched as hers—smile without a care in the world in the arms of his love... That affected her. How could Joseph, who is as doomed as any other hunter as her, revel so much in something as passing as love? How could anyone like her savor the fleeting pleasure of a warm embrace?
To be satisfied with something that could easily vanish...
To be content in ephemeral happiness...
Is it truly enough to have experienced love, even if it didn't last long? She doesn't know. But what she does know, now that things are clearer to her, is that it's wrong to take out her anger on someone else. Especially on her brethren, those tormented by fate. Against its cruel machinations, to find happiness would be the ultimate defiance. And these two lovers... helped her see that.
Stifling a sob, she wipes the wayward tear threatening to fall from her eye. Lifting her head, a small sad smile graces her lips.
"Good game, Joseph, Helena," her soft hoarse voice intones, a far cry from the harshness before. "I'm sorry I got carried away and... said those cruel words to you. I got too caught up in my own emotions that I couldn't think straight. Please forgive my outburst."
The survivor-hunter couple only stares back, trying to process the sudden change of heart from the huntress. After bowing her head to them, the lady in green looks over her shoulder to where her partner stands.
"Burke, I'm sorry. I lost track of our mission and followed my own impulse. I should've listened to you in the first place."
"It's alright." Mad Eyes comes to her side, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "As long as you feel better."
"Y-You don't have to apologize for anything, Miss Michiko..." The Mind's Eye voices out, receiving everyone's attention once more. "Joseph may have started all this, but he didn't mean to anger you like that."
"Oh, I know. Do not misunderstand; I am only repentant of my inappropriate behavior. I was indeed angry at old Joseph and he deserved a good beating after all the rules he's broken."
The man in question glares at the Geisha from the ground. "Who are you calling 'old'?!"
Upon hearing his voice, The Mind's Eye kneels down to cradle his head on her lap. "Joseph..." She brushes away his bangs, stroking his cheek in worry. "Are you okay?"
The Photographer stills at the contact, knowing about the earful he'd be getting later, but hesitantly answers all the same. "Y-Yes..."
The huntress giggles at the sweet display. "I understand your sentiments, Joseph. There's no need for apologies. It would've been more wrong if you didn't do anything for her at all..."
He blinks in surprise at her words. But her apparent understanding softens his expression. "I won't apologize for what I've done, either... But as offended as I was, I didn't mean to provoke you, Michiko. I never meant to hurt your feelings."
"Well, what's done is done," Lady Thirteen chirps warmly, fully returning to her composed mien. "I forgive you as long as you forgive me. How about we have a nice cup of tea after this? You know, before you get banned."
Azrael frowns at the reminder of his inevitable punishment while Dark Cake beams at the invitation. "We'd love that, Miss Michiko."
"See you later, then..." Turning to her partner, she says, "Burke, I'm afraid I'm tired already. Will you be able to handle our 'audience' or...?"
"I'm tired of hunting, too. Let's just be friendly for now," Mad Eyes suggests as he helps his partner get up, supporting her by the arm. "So get going, the lot of you!" he barks at the nearest survivor who whoops in joy as he spreads the news to the others.
With that, the Geisha, leaning on Mad Eyes for support, and the survivors leave the two lovers alone by the bridge.
This is it. The most heart-pounding, mind-numbing, bone-chilling confrontation Joseph would have to face yet. He had hoped things would've gone differently from what had just transpired but alas, this is reality and he has to accept it. Composing himself, he watches the departing hunters, unable to look at his lover's face yet.
Closing his eyes, he relishes in the warmth of Helena's hold on him. At least his wish did come true: to be back in her arms again at the end of it all. He wants to enjoy it while it lasts, before it's her turn to lash out on him.
"Joseph." Her voice is so soft it scares him more.
Hesitantly, he opens his eyes, finally connecting with hers. She's so worried and upset, it's over for him.
"Are you hurt badly? Can you move?" She caresses his cheek, her flitting touches easing some of his aches.
"No, unfortunately," he admits, trying to shake his head in emphasis despite the sharp aching pain. "I don't have any strength left and... I hadn't eaten or rested the whole day." He shouldn't have said that, but she'd be angrier if he didn't.
The light in her eyes shines in intense concern. Pulling him closer to her, she hugs him tightly, burying her face on his disheveled hair. "Oh, Joseph... You're such a stubborn man. Why did you do this to yourself?"
Breathing in her sweet comforting scent, he strengthens his resolve. "You know why... I couldn't let you suffer like that again. Hearing how much it scared you to be deprived of your other senses—of your special sight—it pained me as well. I should've helped you back then. I should've known you were suffering... Even if I am powerless against lag, I will do everything I can to fight everything else for you."
He would've said more but his actions have been enough. Unable to even embrace her back, he anxiously awaits her judgment.
She suddenly pulls back, her tear-streaked face glaring at him. "You had me worried! I thought you didn't want to see me. I was so worried that you were avoiding me when you were actually with me the whole time!"
"Sorry..." He flinches at the rise in her pitch, yet he can't help but smile at the knowledge that she did learn the truth on her own. "So, you knew. Did you pretend to be lagging back then, to know all that?"
"Yes, I did! I heard everything before you fought with Michiko and Burke. And Little Jo confirmed a lot of things, too."
On cue, the little hunter appears beside Helena, smiling sheepishly at his big doppelganger, holding the photograph tightly in his hands to shield himself. Joseph only sighs in defeat.
"As expected of my darling~" At her sustained glare, he quickly adds, "But in my defense, I was planning on telling you everything later. I didn't expect you to take such drastic measures, though. Tempting lag like that... you're madder than me."
She pouts. "You're the crazier one. How did you expect to win against them? If I hadn't rushed in, you might've passed out even now."
"But I did win. You're here, unharmed, with me," he insists, sporting a winsome smile. "I've been protecting you all this time but now, you protected me. I may have been beaten but I didn't lose because of you, my savior."
She flushes at his words, crossing her arms. "I'm still angry at you, you know."
"I'm sorry. But I know you'd be mad at me if I even hinted at doing something like this."
"Then why did you still do it if you knew?"
"Because I love you, of course."
"If you love me, then don't risk yourself again."
"I won't, don't worry." After bearing all the pain and fatigue, he knows it'd take a long while before he'd even think about pulling a stunt like this again.
Helena just sits there, glaring at him. While she has every right to do so, it just feels so much worse than he'd imagined. So, in an attempt to placate her somewhat, he slowly lifts his now-able left hand to her cheek, caressing it as tenderly as he can. To his relief, she leans against his touch, cupping his callused hand in hers as her expression softens a bit.
Mini Jo has a big grin on his little face, happy to know that he did a good job for the mission. Seeing how the two are already in their own world, he silently excuses himself. If Helena is still mad... he'd rather be away for the moment, joining his fellow pets who are having fun by the carousel.
Thinking about what to do with her disruptive darling, Helena continues staring back at him. Joseph is indeed a madman, an impassioned incorrigibly insane man who'd do everything for her. She is mad beyond words for all his recklessness. Yet, as she touches his hand, tense and straining to maintain its hold on her, and feel his apologetic eyes focused on her... she simply can't stay mad at him. In fact, it's only his ban-guaranteed actions that anger her and he has already paid for them. But fighting the other hunters and lag for her... Who would get mad at that?
She pulls his hand away suddenly, schooling her face into one of indifference. Upon earning a panicked reaction from him, she smiles, dipping her head to connect her lips with his. She feels him stiffen in shock, suppressing a giggle as she pulls him closer and kisses him deeper. Once he recovers, he feebly kisses back, parting his lips for her in utter surrender which she happily accepts.
After parting for air, with hopeful eyes he nervously asks, "Does this mean... that you forgive me?"
"Hmm..." Tapping her chin thoughtfully with mischievous eyes, she decides, "Maybe."
"Aw..." he whines with a pout, burying his face on her stomach and wrapping an arm around her waist. Running her fingers through his messy hair, she chuckles, pleased to be back in his arms again.
Epilogue
Lying down on the bed, the hunter looks out the window. It's too beautiful a day to waste by merely resting, but with all the exhaustion yesterday, there's no helping it. He envies his little look-alike who, although sharing the same punishment, doesn't have to experience the excruciating fatigue he's had. Yet he's quite fortunate enough; Helena and the gamemasters have been more forgiving than expected. His actions would've warranted more than just a one-month ban and confiscation of his incriminating photograph. Apparently, the gamemasters have been aware of his escapade since the battle with Percy but they were entertained enough to simply grant him a 'warning'. As Joseph had declared over and over again, he is more than willing to accept the consequences.
The door creaks open and he turns at the sound. A smile forms on his lips as Helena enters the room, bringing a big cart of food with her.
"Good morning, Helena," he calls out, pushing himself against the bed to sit up. Thankfully, his muscles don't ache as much now though he can't really do anything more.
"Good morning, Joseph," she beams at him, pushing the cart to the side before taking a seat on the bedside chair. "I brought you breakfast. How are you feeling now?"
"Better than yesterday," he answers, eyeing his trembling hands. "It'll take a week before I fully recover, most likely. But with my caring cupcake's attention, I'm sure I'll be up and about in no time," he remarks with a grin.
Her bright eyes twinkle. "Of course, I'll take care of you. But you better behave or else..."
"Y-Yes, ma'am." He pretends to be scared, making her giggle.
Remembering that he hasn't eaten yet, the wafting aroma draws his attention, his stomach promptly grumbling at the sight of a hearty breakfast just for him. But a wrapped box sitting on the edge of the tray piques his curiosity.
"Darling, what's that box for?"
"Oh, right." Helena reaches for it, then holds it up for him to see. "It's a gift for you!"
"A gift?" His guess has been proven right, but he is still taken aback. After yesterday, even if she already (partly) forgave him, he would never expect a present now.
She nods. "You've been giving me many things that you hardly buy anything for yourself anymore. So, I thought about getting something for you. That's why I insisted on playing even though I was lagging hard. And then with your help, I managed to save enough to buy it today! I wanted to give it to you on your special day but after all you've done for me, I feel like it cannot wait."
Still mesmerized by her, he meekly accepts the box wrapped in a shimmering blue adorned by a golden bow. Opening it, he finds a quill pen—a white plume decorated with purple and gold. He takes it in his hand, admiring the way a green vine wrapping around the nib complements the rosy color of the whole ensemble. His thumb grazes the purple gem adorning the pastel foliage; the small delicate flowers falling from it are so delightful to see. In his palm, Tenderness glows softly against the morning light.
"It's beautiful," he finds his voice after silently appraising the accessory for a long while. Helena never fails to make him feel so loved and adored. "Thank you so much!"
Her charming smile rivals the gift's radiance. "I'm glad you like it! It's all thanks to your efforts, after all. You're not mad at me anymore now, right?"
He frowns at the memory of their fight, cursing himself for making her upset. "I'm sorry for making you think that, Helena. I don't think it's possible for anyone, least of all me, to get mad at you." He reaches for her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I wish I could give you something, too... Wait."
"Hm?" Helena watches as Joseph reaches for something on the table standing by. Turning his back to her, he begins to scribble with his new pen, his arm moving around in curious circles.
After a minute or so, he returns his attention to her. "Here, my love." He presents his latest masterpiece, affection woven in both his words and gift. "For you."
Gasping in amazement at the beauty greeting her, she gently accepts his offering. On a card—Joseph's photograph, to be exact—a shimmering flower stands tall and proud in the midst of a swirling pool of purple ink. Its petals and leaves glimmer softly against the sunlight as wispy slivers surround it, a tender visage of loveliness. As with all of Joseph's 'special effects', it shines brightly through the darkness of her vision in perfect clarity, drawing out of her the biggest smile yet.
"Oh, Joseph..." Her fingers stroke the petals, finding it warm to the touch—soft like jelly but firmly poise in its place. Her whole face beams at him, utterly enamored at his tender thoughtfulness. "Thank you."
"Anything for you," he replies back, leaning closer, their faces almost touching. "Anything at all..."
Mirroring his warm innocent smile, Helena plants a soft kiss on his awaiting lips, happy that lag—for all the troubles and torment it brings—brought them even closer together.
A/N: To my reviewers,
stars and coffee: Thanks for leaving a review! I always try my best to write good stuff! （*＾-＾*)
Yie: I'm glad you like this fic! And to be honest, everything I write about this ship always turns out to be cute. \(≧▽≦)/
hakuno: That's the best compliment a writer could ever receive! It always cheers me up whenever I read your comment. o((ω ))o
And to all my readers: Thank you for giving this fic a chance! Have a nice day!