I should be writing DFW right now, but in light of how long this took to update, this chapter likely being a shorter one, and DFW's own semi-hiatus due to being in a difficult spot, I think I'll just update this again.
Also, I don't mean to sound desperate but review, please? I'm a bit of a review hound, so not having those feels wrong. Or maybe I'm just whining, who knows anymore?
"Have I ever stated how fruitless this endeavor is?" Death whispered into his prison's ear, the boredom of traveling was starting to get to it.
"I don't remember asking you," Minato's response was immediate, prompting a confused look from the girl next to him. "Not you," he assured, although this only confused her more.
"Oh yes, and the child," Death's chuckles began echoing in his ears, and the bluenette found himself unconsciously balling his fists. "Tell me, what is your plan with her? Sell her off to the nearest flesh-den? Perhaps you could try another orphanage; perhaps this one won't fool you so easily? Or are you keeping her until the next fool moon; I didn't think you would be so eager to relive that day."
"Shut. Up," Minato scoffed, but this only served to entertain the creature more. That thing knew him well, far better than he cared to admit.
Death made what could only be compared to a tutting sound, "Oh, Minato, do you never learn?" Playing with him was one of its favorite past times. Death knew just how to anger him or hit him where he hurts the most, although the child was a new variable to add to this little experiment.
A weak voice spoke up, "are… you okay?"
"Fine," Minato scoffed, shaking his head in an attempt to push that abomination out of it. Now was not the time to be dealing with this.
How long have they been walking now? He had been neglecting keeping track ever since he started letting her tag along with him. Every day that passed was another night closer, and the moon would loom over them with its light serving as an insidious reminder of what awaits.
There were still weeks before that could happen, however, so he still had some time left to find a place to get rid of her. But damn, what was he supposed to do, drop her off at another orphanage and pray this one works out?
An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he thought, "I hate my life." He could barely take care of himself, what web weaver of fate decided that it would be a good idea to thrust the burden of taking care of a child on him?
Saki continued to look at him in bewilderment. This is the fifth time she's seen him talking to himself now—was he a loon?
Should she say something? No, she was young, but she understood the futility of trying. She would be surprised if he was even listening to her.
Where were they going? Her feet were killing her from the days of endless walking and her shoes were beginning to fall apart. Looking down, she could see the soles beginning to separate from the rest, allowing some snow to begin falling inside the gaps, and melt, wearing them down more.
Abruptly he paused, holding out his hand as a gesture for her to do the same. "We're here," Minato warned.
"Here?" Saki took a single step forward, squinting her eyes. It was almost impossible to see anything more than a few feet away; there were several times that Minato had grabbed her by the arm to stop her from treading too far away.
Placing her hands around her eyes, Saki focused harder. She could barely make out just faintest of figures out in the distance. A few more of the many hills littered throughout the landscape and some of the withered twigs that stuck out of the ground.
But all of the details eventually stop after a certain point. No matter how hard she tried focusing, everything in the distance just seemed to stop like she staring at a wall.
"A wall?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, turning to face her and kneeling down, "I don't remember the name of this place. I think I called this whole area Yama-Yama when I was around your age."
"Yama… Yama?" Saki repeated slowly, stressing each syllable with a scrunched up face that told him that it was as awkward for her to say as it was for him to hear.
"That's not important," he dismissed his younger self's actions, "listen to me, when we're in those walls, you're my daughter, got it?"
A confused expression quickly formed—was this suppose to be his form of adoption or something?
Noticing her bewilderment, Minato let out an exasperated sigh before gripping her by her shoulders, "Look, you're an orphan just like me. Do you know what I learned? They don't care about us; we're nothing more than another mouth to feed to them. I learned this the hard way," he warned her, unconsciously rubbing his side. "Do not let them learn what you are! If you do, then they'll think that you're just another bastard-child that should be scorned and left to die alone."
Saki blinked, "b-bastard..?"
Minato shook his head, "Remember when I mentioned social stigmas before? That's another; I'll explain later. Now I'm gonna carry you and then we're going to go right to that gate. When I do this, don't say a word, understood?"
The girl nodded, "okay."
"Good," Minato gave a slight smile to show his approval before taking her into his arms. She must have been more exhausted than he had realized, because the moment he lifted her, her head was quick to find a resting place on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he thought, carrying her to the gates as he finally had the time to see how her brief time on the road had taken their toll.
Her shoes were almost in pieces. The soles were coming apart, leaving a wide gap that only seemed to be growing with every step he took. With the soles nearly gone, Minato could spot several spots where holes were beginning to form; he didn't even want to think about how cold her feet were. It was a miracle she wasn't frostbitten yet.
Her leggings weren't much better. Having been dragged through the snow, the fabrics had long since become shriveled with wear and tear quickly following. Everything else she wore—her dress, jacket, etc—were facing similar problems. The only thing in decent condition was the scarf he had given her.
Of course, everything she had was tattered! Why would they give her decent clothing if they were going to rid themselves of her later? He should have expected this. He could have packed more things from that town before he left—before he burnt it to the ground in his rampage.
Alas, there was no changing the past—a lesson he had learned years ago.
A voice called out to him, driving him to halt and ceasing his approach. Looking up atop the wall and standing beside the gate, Minato saw a man looking down at him.
"Who are you?" The man demanded.
"Yuki," Minato answered immediately. It was a common name, so it quickly became one of his favorites when the need to anonymity arouse; between now and the past week or so, he couldn't think of a better time.
There was a pause before the man spoke again, perhaps pondering the truthfulness of his response before replying, "What are you doing here, Yuki?" He asked, extending his arms out slightly as a gesture.
"My daughter," he answered, looking down at the girl clutching onto him, eyes closed and giving the appearance that she was drifting off to sleep already. "Please, our home was burned down and we have nowhere else to go."
Though the guard at the gate was too far away for Minato to know for certain, he could only infer that he was focusing his gaze on the child. "And so you came here?"
"I told you," he replied, "we have nowhere else."
"And how many times do you think I've heard that?" The man replied with a harshness in his voice that made the bluenette wince. "And do you think you're the first to bring a kid here?"
"Shit," Minato muttered, hopefully suppressing his voice enough that one else could hear, "So what? You're just going to leave us out here to die?"
"I guess I am," there was a form of solemnness in his voice; he has doubts over his actions, but he won't the risk in case he's wrong, "Sorry, but we have to look after our own. I'm sure you can understand that."
"Shit, shit…" This was not the outcome that he was hoping for, albeit one that he expected. The story he gave wasn't one that everyone hasn't said/heard a thousand times and will continue to spout for a hundred more.
They had no reason to trust him or care about the girl with him. Come an hour or so, and they wouldn't even remember his name. After all, eventually, they all start melding together and sounding alike.
It's not like he was any different. How many lives has he taken now? He had been too afraid to keep count when he was younger, and now it just seemed futile to even try. Once it felt terrifying—wrong, but now, it felt normal—as natural as breathing when things begin to take a turn for the worse.
The act of killing was wrong; it was something to avoid whenever it could. Morality was a concept that everyone possessed to some extent— from a naïve child to an old man on his deathbed. If one were to lack any form of morality, then they would be human in name only.
But humans are complex, as is their morality along with it. Stealing is wrong, yet right when you feed a starving child. Hurting others is wrong, yet sometimes that is the only way to defend yourself. Killing another is wrong, yet right when you are trying to save another.
The man is trying to protect everyone inside the walls. Minato is trying to protect the girl he saved—the one that had no one else thanks to his stupidity. He knew her name; they had a history—however little it was. He would remember her.
"I won't remember you."
"We won't remember you."
The man wasn't given a chance to respond. Silencing whatever words he might have had, Minato's persona placed its blade against the man's throat. From there, all it would take him is a single order and both the wall and snow in front of him would be painted crimson.
A loud bang echoed, presumably coming from another section of the wall. One of the other guards must have shot to kill him, only to find the bullet finding itself going into a barely transparent mirror, redirecting it back at its owner. The trajectory was changed slightly, of course. It would be a warning to anyone who had any similar ideas.
He didn't know his name; he couldn't even see his face. If he killed him and then forced that gate open, then he would forget all about him in a few weeks. It's the world they live in now; he knew the risks when he refused him.
Interrupting Minato's thoughts was a cough erupting from the girl. When he turned his head to her, he saw that her eyes had been closed shut, and she was clutching onto him tightly, trembling no-doubt after hearing what he was going to do.
This girl had been forced to witness the death of her friends, suffering from betrayal from those she trusted the most. It was his foolishness that enabled the actions leading to her friends' demise, and nearly her own were it not for him saving her before it was too late.
"I-It…. hurts…" The memory began replaying in his head. The world around him began shifting, everything becoming out of focus and blurry except her—the girl covered in her own blood, sitting against the wall as the life faded from her all over again.
There's been enough death for her. She doesn't deserve to see another so soon.
"Last warning," Minato growled, eyes brightening as he glared daggers into the man above, "let us in, or tear you and this wall apart."
What began as a boon was now becoming a hindrance; he couldn't see his face from this distance. There was fear there, of course—that went without saying, even without reading his expression. But what was he going to do next?
He could continue to deny him, believing him to be bluffing. What would Minato do then? Commit to what he said, despite the reason for his hesitance?
Did he even want to know what he would do?
Minato could he the man's head turn to the side, perhaps looking at one of those responsible for trying to kill him before. Was this a sign of panic or a gesture for some plan?
The waiting was unbearable—at this rate, they were going to freeze to death out here. "What's it gonna be?" Minato asked, demanding a resolution now.
The man's attention returned to him for a moment before looking back and speaking to people behind him—his voice was too low for Minato to understand what he said.
A loud creaking sound began filling the air, making Minato wince from the assault on his eardrums as he watched the gate slowly begin opening, revealing roads that looked recently cleared of snow.
Glancing at the man above whose hands were raised, Minato recalled his persona after passing the gates. There were several other people standing beside the entrance, cowering after his display.
But this was fine—them fearing him was preferable. If they feared him, then they will know better than to betray him.
"Hey," Minato whispered to the girl he was still holding as he wandered the streets, "how are you doing?"
"I'm tired," she murmured, nuzzling her head against him. Her feet must have been killing her, to say nothing of how sore her legs must be after walking so much for so long.
"Yeah," Minato replied, eying the various buildings around him until he found what looked to be a hotel, "how about tomorrow, I find you some new clothes?"
Saki mumbled something against him, shifting her head so that she could speak clearly again before saying, "thank you."
"Don't mention it," he thought, entering the hotel.
Shutting the door behind them provided little solace from the unrelenting cold outside. The building was dark with little means of lighting outside of a few lanterns sporadically placed throughout the halls.
Hearing the sounds of the door closing, a woman that one could only assume was in charge of the approached with a smile that almost instantaneously transformed into a cold scowl the moment she saw the two strangers where they don't belong.
Ignoring the glare, Minato asked, "how much?"
"Whatever is too much for you," she scoffed. It would seem that she was quite the charmer.
"Right," Minato sighed, shaking his head. Normally, he would simply leave and see if there was someone else desperate enough to take him, but he wasn't the only one he had to take into consideration now. "Look, it's just one night."
Her response was as quick as it was harsh, "one night too many. It's all you'll need to slit my throat and rob my corpse."
Minato growled, contemplating his next course of action. He was still holding Saki, so taking matters into his own hands was out of the question. Although, he has a few personas that might fit a space as small as this.
"Please," a weak voice called out. They both look down at the girl who had opened her eyes again, the look of exhaustion ever-present in her eyes. "We won't stay long," Minato wouldn't help but wonder, was she weak from fatigue setting in or had he terrified the girl with what he was about to do next, so now she was fighting to speak before it was too late.
The woman's gaze softened, if only for a moment when directing it at the girl before returning to the man still holding her. "One night," she compromised, "after that, you're one your own."
"That's all I need," he agreed.
"Up the stairs," she directed him, "it'll be the second door on your left."
Minato thanked the woman, climbing up the steps before retreating into his room. Inside was a single bed with sheets showing several signs of wear and tear—it would still function, however.
Carefully placing Saki down on the bed, Minato sat down on the edge to let out a long sigh, "thanks for the help."
The girl only let out a few incoherent mumbles, nuzzling against the pillow. Minato was sure she had fallen asleep before calling, "Mr. Arisato."
"-san," Minato interrupted. "Sorry, just call me Arisato-san, please. It's a personal thing."
"Okay," she complied. "Arisato-san."
"Yeah?"
"You were really scary," she confessed. Either the scene at the gate or the woman left an impression on her—far more than he wanted.
"I know," Minato's response came out as a whisper as he looked down at his hands, trying to ignore the chuckling he heard at the back of his head—ignore the presence looming over him.
"Try to get some sleep," he asked, lying down with his back against the floor and his almost empty bag as a pillow. It wasn't the most gracious of places to rest, but it would do for the night.
"Subject number 31D012," the title would occasionally find itself returning to the back of his head. The man never learned his name, so he took to calling him by that title whenever recording his notes.
The 'name' greeted him with every opening of his journal, provoking a shiver from the memories it would bring alongside it. He had no voice and with no voice, he was always surrounded but alone. Without his voice, this journal was his only means of leaving his mark on the world—something separate from the atrocities he is forced to commit.
The former test subject ran his hand through the paper, shivering once his fingers reached his old title. It's a cursed name if it could even count as a name. Yet, it was far better than the alternative that he was universally known as.
"Lupine," his master called out to him, triggering a jolt that nearly caused him to fall out of the withered tree branches he was resting on.
Lupine, that cursed name. It was a reminder, the same as the other—a reminder of what he was now.
Looking down, he quickly found his master, accompanied by Rin, the 'mistress' as she likes to call herself. Strange, the Black Butterfly was with him too—highly usual. Whoever this person was, he must have been very formidable to warrant his presence as well.
The hound returned to the ground, following his unspoken orders. He knew where their quarry had gone, and now that his master had returned, he knew what was coming.
"Brrr," Saki shivered, rubbing her arms together through her jacket. The heater in her pocket and the new clothes Minato had gotten her kept her safe from the worst of it, but the cold was persistent. Despite burying her hands in sleeves, she continued to feel the painful cold in her fingers, gradually spreading throughout her being.
Despite her efforts to hide it, Minato raised an eyebrow. She must still not be used to the cold, having been coddled by that asylum for most of her life. He might be better off to let her endure; she needed to learn how to deal with the cold one way or another.
But where does the line between teaching perseverance and needless torture begin and end? Before he awoke to his persona, he barely managed to survive by currying a few favors, relying on generosity, or by scavenging whatever he could, whenever he could, and wherever he could to survive.
But He was alone then and she's not. No matter how temporary, he was her caregiver. She didn't deserve to live how he did—he had to think of something.
"Hmm," Minato hummed, diverting his gaze from her. He bought her new clothes and other necessities with some to spare, so maybe he could do something?
This was enough to catch the orphan's attention, causing her to let out, "Huh?"
Minato tilted his head towards a building with a sign she couldn't read sticking out. "Want a bath?" Proper baths were in short supply on the read; they were one of those simple pleasures that he had been forced to adapt to living without, but to turn down an opportunity would be borderline insanity—that, and what better way to take his mind off things?
The sentiment seemed to be shared by the girl. She instantly began brightening up, forgetting about the cold as she began bouncing up and down, bringing her hands out of her sleeves to put them together as she begged, "please, please, please, please…!"
"Okay, okay," Minato did his best to seem annoyed, rolling his eyes with his hands deep in his pockets, counting the coins he has left. He should have enough for her, maybe even both of them.
The child was practically skipping as they walked to the bathhouse, only settling down slightly at Minato's command before they went inside. Inside, they were greeted by the welcoming and warm air. The windows all looked wet from condensation and Minato couldn't help but wonder just how successful this place—or even this entire city—was to have airconditioned buildings.
Nonetheless, a bathhouse was a bathhouse. As long as it had warm water, the place would be fine. He would just have to leave by tomorrow at least to avoid trouble.
Minato approached the counter, placing several coins on the desk and asking, "one for me and one for the kid. Is that enough?"
"No," the man answered, barely giving him a passing glance.
Furrowing his brow, Minato replied, "You didn't count."
"Don't need to," the man dismissed before glaring daggers into him. "We don't take your kind around here."
"My kind?" Of course, what else could he have expected? The other shopkeepers had been wary of him as well, but there was one thing that always changed their minds. "Look, just take the girl then, okay? She's been through enough," Minato asked, placing a few more on the counter to sweeten the deal.
The receptionist glanced at the coin for a moment before directing his gaze to the girl and sighing, "fine."
"You have assistants, right—you can have one of them help her?" Baths like this used to be public experiences, but that practice died with the old world—mostly anyway. Yaldabaoth kept it alive along with some rare, better-off cities.
Outside of those places, the practice had been repurposed to be more private in nature. Private didn't necessarily make it any less innocuous; most places didn't have a way to have heated water en masse, so they relegated the baths for smaller groups of people. The only exception would special occasions, provided there were ample warnings and payment in advance, naturally.
The receptionist nodded in confirmation, standing from his seat and taking them aside to a hall with several rooms that presumably each lead to separate baths.
The ground was white marble, something to be expected given what it was used for. However, the floors were also awfully dry. Either they did a good job with cleaning or today was slow businesswise. Maybe his arrival got around faster than he had thought?
No, it was faint but Minato could hear something from the other side of the building. It sounded like someone fell and a few people were laughing. He must have led them away to avoid offending his other customers—awfully considerate of him.
The man stopped, opening the door to one of the baths and saying, "the child can use this one. It's smaller, but should still give her some room to play around if she wants."
Minato nodded, turning to Saki. "You think you can handle being on your own for a little bit? I'll be nearby if you need me."
Saki gave a nod of her own in return, a small smile still on her face hiding the unease peaking through.
"An assistant will be with you shortly," The receptionist assured the girl as she entered the room, closing the door behind her.
Good, no child meant no need to worry about scaring her. There was one thing Minato needed to make clear.
"You listen and listen well," Minato hissed through his teeth, his eyes brightening in response, "if that little girl gives me any reason to believe that anyone even thought about doing anything to her, they'll never find the pieces when I'm through with you."
The man struggled, naturally. The panic in his eyes was quick to begin settling in, only intensifying once the bluenette's hands began tightening around his throat. He could have the life choked out of him here and now, and there would be nothing he could do about it—something Minato was counting on.
When threatened with death, people were always quick to break. The man could only nod, silently admitting defeat via his whimpers before Minato through him to the ground.
"The 'assistants' are all women, I take it?" Minato asked, looking at the man who raised no objection, "spread the word for me, will you?" Women treating children was common; nurturing and caring maternal instincts must have meant something, right?
Minato knew better than to believe that though. After all, it wasn't long ago that a woman alongside a whole town decided to send so many children to their deaths. Women were human and humans were all capable of atrocities.
But that little piece of cynicism is what he came to forget, however briefly. Grabbing onto the knob of the door directly opposing the one Saki had entered, Minato spoke, "I'm taking this one—feel free to stop me."
Of course, the man remained silent. After all, he needs to be suicidal to refuse him now.
With a soft thud, the door behind him closed somewhat harder than he intended. The room was silent apart from his breathing and footsteps from outside that were getting further and further. Warm humid air greeted him, reminding him of the spring or maybe summer weather that he had all but forgotten.
In the center of the room was a bath, naturally. It was rectangular and was raised somewhat higher than what he was used to, likely to allow more water in. Upon closer inspection, there were tiny gems scattered throughout the tub—heaters, by the looks of it.
Using defective gems to heat a tub? Clever, he was going to have to make note of that trick. He used to mix-up the gems with their defective counterparts too often, but if they can be used to heat water, then he might have a use for them. Beside the bath was a yellow towel, no doubt to avoid getting water everywhere once one steps out.
"No showers," Minato noted. It looks like the bath was all he was going to get. Ironic considering going into a bath without one was frowned upon back then if memory served him. Maybe they were reserved for whatever service the normal customers received? Or more likely, they're a part of history only he and some others remember.
The tiles grey here and some appeared to have been cut to fit this room. Perhaps this building wasn't always a bathhouse and certain pieces were brought in to repurpose it? Whatever the case, it's one now.
Beside him was a small bin. No need to guess what that was for, considering the lack of a changing area (or one that he was allowed in, anyway).
Approaching the basket, Minato kicked off his shoes and began undressing. His hoodie and shirt went first, making him pause at the sight of his scars; some of them were old, while some looked somewhat fresh.
Most were from his early days as a persona-user, although there was one below his lowest right rib that he had him unconsciously rubbing and wincing at the memory. When he was younger, he got into a fight with kids for reasons that he couldn't be bothered to remember, only to learn the hard way that one had something sharp with them.
It was his first lesson of what kind of world he lived in now; it would be something that he would take to the grave.
When the reminiscing was over, Minato slowly began settling himself into the warm water. The warm sensation against his skin forcing an exhale from him as he relaxed inside the bath.
The contrast between the temperature of the water and the air made him shiver, briefly causing him to bite his lip when he clenched his hands, waiting for his body to adjust again. Slowly, the goosebumps that appeared on his skin faded and he was allowed to close his eyes and enjoy the heat.
Supposedly, these baths were meant to be a place of meditation. What did that mean—reflection—trying to find peace with yourself or some other mystical nonsense? All he knew was that he better not get dragged into the Velvet Room again.
Velvet Room, he hadn't thought of that place for a long time. Similarly, he had no desire to return there in the near future. If he recalled correctly, he last told Philemon that he would kill him if he saw him again—not that that would be possible given the nature of his existence. It would still be worth the effort, if only for the catharsis.
Although, he would be lying if he said that he hadn't missed Elizabeth for all her various oddities. She was a one-of-a-kind woman that was naive to how the old world was and sharing what little he could remember always brought back familiar, comforting feelings from his childhood.
But he wasn't the only person who knew about the Velvet Room. There was another who had friends of his own—someone that he was hoping he wouldn't think about.
"Shit," Minato cursed himself. It was a terrible idea to let himself settle down. Now, the memories are going to start coming back to him. "Sorry, Yu."
Fortunately, it was interrupted when Minato heard the door opening and closing again.
Opening one eye, Minato saw a woman. She was tall by most standards, probably being eye-to-eye with him. She possessed long black hair that went slightly past her shoulders, surprisingly not even tied in a knot like Minato would expect. She didn't look that old, maybe being in her early to mid-twenties like him.
"You've got the wrong room," Minato closed his eyes again. "The kid is next door."
"Don't worry," the woman assured him, her footsteps getting closer until she was next to him. "I was asked to give you a hand, completely free of charge."
"Free, huh?" Minato chuckled. It looks like that little threat he gave also came with a little bonus too. There weren't many chances he had to be lazy, so he might as well take it.
"Uh-huh," her voice was gentle, almost a whisper. Minato couldn't help but find it rather soothing.
There was a brief flinch when he felt a hand on his arm, forcing it to retreat. Letting out a deep exhale, Minato relaxed again, letting the soft hand gently grasp his arm before raising it slightly.
There was a quick sound of something entering the water beside him, quickly followed up by the sounds of streams of water falling back into the bath. When the streams began to lower in intensity, likely by the object having some of the excess water squeezed out, Minato felt what he assumed to be a sponge rubbing against his elevated arm.
"Sweet little girl, you've got," She complimented, continuing to scrub him down. "Is she yours?"
Simple question, but not one that he could provide an honest answer for. "Let's just say I had a fun time as a teenager."
The woman laughed, dipping the sponge back into the water. "I'll bet. Her mom anywhere?"
Minato shook his head, eyes still closed and focusing on the sensation of warm water spreading and warming his arm. "She uh… that's not a happy story."
The woman paused for a moment, perhaps also giving an expression of sympathy before lowering his arm. "Sorry to hear that," she sympathized, and Minato heard her body shifting until she was one the other side of him. "Let's try to keep this from being gloomy. What's your name?"
"What's yours?" Minato shot back, barely able to fight the smirk threatening to form from the imaginary look he pictured was on her face.
More shifting, softly this time. Minato assumed that perhaps she shrugged her shoulders before speaking, "Yui."
"Namae wa Minato desu (my name is Minato)," Minato introduced himself.
"Ooh," Yui seemed intrigued, coming to a complete stop to say, "you can speak our old tongue too! I haven't heard that in years."
"Yeah, rare for me too," Minato opened his eyes, turning his head to his left arm that had a hand idly remaining on.
Yui instantly caught on to the meaning, apologizing as she took his arm and dipped the sponge back into the water. "Even those that remember it can't really speak it anymore," she pointed out, "where are you from?"
Minato laughed, "From? That obvious, am I?"
"Like a fish out of the water," Yui giggled, giving his arm a few more strokes from the sponge before lowering it back down. From there, she moved directly behind him, taking the sponge but now letting the streams of water fall on his head. "Besides, I'd remember someone as cute as you."
Minato scoffed, but only weakly as he soon felt her delicate fingers massaging his scalp. Feeling them move around in circles and running through his hair instantly put him at ease, making him lean further backward, almost coming into contact with the woman behind him.
"I'm not that… not that…" he couldn't even finish his sentence.
She paused and Minato could swear she was smirking at him because the next words that left her mouth were a teasing, "you like that, don't you?"
Minato nodded, closing his eyes so that he could focus on the sensation again. Fortunately for him, Yui didn't like to torture him too much and she quickly resumed her actions. Between this and what it was likey leading to, he was going to be here a while.
Akira rose from the dirt, only to find a blanket of dust surrounding him. Beside him were Crow and Mona, both having been knocked unconscious from the attack.
Rubbing his eyes, he could just barely see past the shroud. Everything around him was reduced to rubble from the creature's attack, causing the dust clouding the area.
Sinking his heart was the too familiar sound of rattling chains approaching. His body was screaming as he tried moving again, and instead, he fell to the ground once more.
It's hopeless—he was too injured to move, much less fight that thing again. Lying on the ground, he could only listen to the rattling getting closer and closer.
He had to admit—this wasn't how he imagined that he would go out. Everyone around him was either dead or unconscious, leaving him alone to die. If he was lucky, then he will be torn into enough pieces that he would be unrecognizable so that his friends would be safe.
Alone, scared, and knowing what's coming—is that what she felt too? He was too stupid to see it then, letting her suffer all by herself until the end.
"No," he hacked, moaning, hissing, and screaming in agony. Forcing his body to obey him, Akira stood himself up again as the chains began drawing near. He wasn't going to let what happened then be for nothing.
Another hagged cough escaped, forcing him back on his knees as he felt vertigo settling in, contorting the world around him.
"What are you doing out of bed?" A voice interrupted, snapping him back to reality?
"Huh?" Akira blinked—he was no longer in the cold streets staring up at that monster, but instead, he was at some sort of shelter and was now face-to-face with Takemi. Surrounding him was an innumerable amount of people; some were on beds and others were on the ground using whatever could be improvised at the moment.
Takemi wasn't listening to any excuse he might have had. She took him by his shoulders, forcing him to lie back down on the bed.
He was too weak to resist. Every muscle in his body felt sore, and an unescapable chill began crawling up his spine. Noticing his shivering, the doctor placed her hand on his forehead, "you're running a fever."
"Great," Akira attempted to express some more dry sarcasm, only for it to come out as another weary groan. "Have you—" he was interrupted when a sudden hack escaped his lips. The force was so great that he was almost immediately sitting up straight, feeling like he would cough up his lung next. Even Tae grew concerned, gently grasping him, perhaps believing that he would roll off his bed once more.
When the coughing settled, leaving the boy a panting mess, he was able to relax on the bed again. Taking rapid breaths, Akira was determined to finish his sentence, "Where are… my glasses?"
"Huh?" Takemi seemed surprised at the mention before kneeling down to where Akira couldn't see at this angle, reappearing with glasses in hand. "I think these are yours," she said, carefully sliding them back on his face. "Why do you wear them anyway? You seem to see just fine."
"Gift," he answered as well as his scratchy throat would allow him, "they were a gift."
A gift from someone he failed a long time ago…
Saki emerged from the room, beaming and bouncing in the air.
"Someone looks happy," she turned to her head to find Minato leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, apparently having been waiting on her for some time.
"Uh-huh," she affirmed, tilting her head once she noticed that his hair looked slightly dampened as well. "Did you take a bath too?"
"Yeah," he shrugged, only to wince once he felt the fabrics of his shirt brush against his shoulder.
"You okay?" she expressed genuine concern; it was a strange thing to hear after having been on his own for so long.
Minato nodded, rubbing his shoulder and muttering, "mine was a biter."
The girl gave him a few more confused looks but didn't press it. Instead, as they were exiting the building, she continued bouncing in the air as she recounted what had happened.
Minato furrowed his brow for a moment, "wait, so they gave you a bubble-bath?" When was the last time he even heard the term bubble-bath, much less seen/taken one?
"Uh-huh," she giggled, recounting how the bath maid had put a strange liquid into the water before it suddenly became bubbly from the soapsuds forming. "They were really fun!"
"Yeah, I know—" Minato cut himself off, feeling an unfamiliar sensation set in. It was like a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, accompanied by a dull pressure in the air around him, weighing him down.
"He's here."
"Saki, listen to me right now," Minato's voice was grave, instantly grabbing her attention, "I need you to—"
"Going somewhere?" An echoing voice spoke, and Minato's heart sank.
Turning his head, Minato saw it—a small insect dancing in the air, taunting him. The creature was colored an unearthly shade of black, standing out beside the white blankets of snow.
The outside world fell silent, allowing only the faint sound of beating wings as the creature continued dancing in the air. Minato could only watch as it slowly passed him, eyeing it like a hawk.
A faint chuckle pierced the air, and it was only then that Minato noticed the three others standing across the street from him. The one leading the posse took a step forward, clutching a sheathed katana in his right hand.
It was too late to run, especially with that butterfly around, watching them. Behind the man in the mask were two followers, each donning masks of their own; black and white for the woman and man respectively.
The only thing Minato could do was push the girl behind him, drawing his sword as the figure approached them.
"Long have I waited/for this great advent to come/" the man spoke, slightly outstretching his arms, forming a smirk that no mask could hide. Behind the lenses of his mask, one could see just the faintest flares from his amber eyes, "Hello, Minato."
Okay, I got this out. I need to focus on DFW again. I've neglected that for far too long. Then again, this is me, so that probably won't go as planned either.
Oh, I forgot! Thanks to Wes0 a.k.a Rwes, you can now see what Older!Minato and Saki look like if you're curious!
sta. sh/010b82mr36c7
Sta. sh/0n9g70926n5
sta. sh/0ns8edvru3w
Thanks Wes, you're the best!