...This was supposed to be a short chapter, I swear. I somehow made a chapter that was intended to be 5k words or so into 11k so uhhhhh enjoy the extra content?
This was supposed to be the start of my "short story" form chapters, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.
December 28, S.1204 - The Courageous' Multipurpose Floor
Elliot and Emma exited the elevator; their faces dejected and their pace sluggish. In Emma's hands was a metal tray, housing a pair of unused utensils and a meal of stew and bread made by Nicholas that had long gone cold and stale.
When the seven pairs of anxious eyes all looked towards them, the most they could accomplish was shake their heads and sigh.
"He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday." Elliot took a seat on the couch, but couldn't even make the effort to sit up straight. He slunked down, barely catching himself from sliding off the seat. "He won't even answer his ARCUS."
No one wanted to state the obvious, but they realized the implication. Having their leader out of commission was becoming a problem.
As Rean was usually the one to manage the team compositions, he and an assembled force would tackle the more dangerous tasks that played to each member's strengths while the rest would focus on helping out the areas liberated from the Noble Alliance with whatever they may need.
Now having to divy the tasks amongst themselves, Class VII was forced to learn the hard way of how their difference in abilities and talents can affect their synergy.
Learning that Miles had issued a request to investigate the strange mist in Legram, Laura took it upon herself to see the task through. She took Fie, Sara, Millium, and Emma along with her and while the exploration of Lohengrin Castle mainly went off without a hitch, only having three combatants accustomed to fighting the spiritual monsters of the area (and one of them being Millium, who was scared out of her wits) made the final confrontation with the Lucifuge much more harrowing.
Jusis, Machias, Gaius, and Elliot all focused on the monster extermination first. Without Rean, Jusis and Machias got into their arguments even more often, making the monster even tougher to deal with than initially planned. The tension between the two became too unbearable that they decided to cool off on the ship while the latter two joined Alisa to fix her mother's pocket watch and recruit any Thors students they could find.
It was unfortunate to say, but the class didn't understand each other's strengths and weaknesses as well as Rean did.
"Two days have already passed by and yet we've barely done anything aside from a few requests." Gaius lamented.
Emma nodded, hating the thought of agreeing. "We still need to go to the remaining Spirit Shrines to retrieve more Zemurian Ore. And even if we do obtain it, it would be pointless if Rean wasn't willing to come with us."
Fie turned over on the couch to face the ceiling. She threw and caught a small stress ball that she got from Vivi a while ago in a lackadaisical manner. "There's also the performance Rosine wanted us to do for Celdic. I dunno about you guys, but that's one I really want to do. We owe them after all."
"As do I," Machias crossed his arms. "Though I can't say I don't sympathize with Rean a little. I can only imagine how he's feeling right now."
"I guess I kinda get it?" Millium took a sip of her soft drink. "If Claire or Lechter were somewhere where I couldn't reach and they got hurt, I'd be reeeeeeeeallly upset too."
"Well, I don't." Alisa stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "Unlike in Nord, Valimar is not gonna be there to catch him if he jumps overboard. Rean can't afford to be so reckless! We all came as a class to get this far! He can't just bail on us now!"
"Alisa…" Laura placed her hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her friend as much as she could. She looked around to meet everyone's gaze and yet none of them could find room to disagree with Alisa's claim.
Jusis clicked his tongue. "Loathe as I am to admit it, I agree with her. It's not that we're inept without Rean, but he's just as much a part of this class as any of us. We've chosen our role in this war and Rean arguably has the most important role as the pilot of the Ashen Knight."
Pushing up his glasses, Machias scoffed. "It's just that… all we know is that a place he considers home and his best friend are in danger. How could he keep calm if there's no denying that?"
"What do you expect me to say, Regnitz? That everything's going to be sunshine and rainbows? I'm merely looking at this from a logical angle. There's nothing we can do over there so we should pinpoint our focus solely on what we can do here."
Machias slammed his fist into the wall and marched towards the blond noble. "Of all the heartless-"
"Please stop, you two!"
Despite Emma's pleas, the two came face-to-face with each other, both grabbing the other by the collar. The two continued arguing in circles to the point where the bad memories of the first few field studies came flooding back in a storm.
Deciding to leave breaking up the two to the others, Gaius leaned over towards Laura, who had been noticeably quiet. "So, what do you think?"
She couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm… conflicted, to say the least. I understand Jusis and Alisa as without Rean, we lose out on one of our biggest spheres of influence being the Ashen Knight. What the Crimson Wings could do without Valimar would be far too limited in scope to accomplish our goal."
"But…?"
"But… I still remember our Heimdallr field study as if it were yesterday. The way Rean's eyes glowed at his friend's presence. We didn't get to meet her directly, but… Rean was so happy when he was with her. And when she was in danger, he slaughtered monsters to ensure her safety. I… I can't say if I'm comfortable taking that away from him. To feel such a way about another person… It's enough to make me envious." She muttered under her breath. "In more ways than one…"
Gaius raised an eyebrow, but quickly brushed it off. For Laura's sake, he'll pretend he didn't hear that last bit.
"Unfortunately, there isn't an easy answer here. From a practical standpoint, we should lift his spirits as soon as we can; both for accomplishing our goal to liberate Trista and to bring this war to an end. But the idea of sacrificing his feelings for the sake of our goal leaves a sour taste in my mouth. If only we had something to set his mind at ease."
"I concur."
Laura made her way to the elevator.
"Where are you going?"
"The training facility. I need to clear my mind."
Without another word, the doors closed between them.
His stomach growled.
At least, he thought it did. He only felt vibrations.
It was dark, but his eyes were well adjusted.
He looked in the mirror.
His hair was white and his eyes red.
Whether it was the result of transforming without realizing or stress, he couldn't tell.
…
All he could think about was her.
"Is that what happened?"
"Yeah, he freaked out once he saw that he almost jumped. Ran back to his room and basically no one's seen him since."
Bridget was crestfallen. To hear Rean had fallen into a deep depression right before she joined the Courageous devastated her. A few months back, he helped her and Alan reconnect after being separated for so long and now they couldn't even celebrate their getting together with him due to the recent circumstances.
"Everyone's been trying to avoid talking about it, but Rean was so shaken that it's hard to not at least be worried for him." Alan took a sip of his coffee, though it wasn't as strong as he was hoping. Effectively flavorless. "And poor Captain Towa has been blaming herself for even suggesting to see the Azure Tree in the first place."
"That's awful…" she said lamely. What else was there to say? She almost felt guilty that she was able to share her joy with Alan, but it also felt like it was at the expense of their friend's happiness. The logical side of her knew that train of thought was absurd, but no amount of logos would change the fact that Rean agonized for the safety of his friend while she was happily dating Alan.
She felt useless. Even after becoming part of the crew of the Crimson Wings, Bridget struggled to find anything she could contribute to. Most of the positions were already filled by the time she came on. Klein, Vivi, and Linde already handled the navigation, observation, and radio on the bridge respectively with Alan on weapons and Angelica piloting the ship. She couldn't handle analytics since Fidelio, Stefan, and Rex all have that covered and the shops were already manned by people who have far more business sense than she.
The only thing she could be helpful with was the cooking and Nicholas had that in spades. When you're the president of the Cooking Club, feeding a literal army should be one of the most basic requirements. She paled in comparison to his skills.
But now… it felt even more disheartening that she couldn't help Rean either. The most she could do was make a half-way decent box lunch and play the piano. Whoop-de-doo. Maybe she could make him more depressed but in C minor this time.
"I'm sorry, Bridge. I know this should be an exciting time for the both of us, but… I want to do something for Rean. Not because we need him for this damn war, but because I owe him."
Bridget smiled tenderly, remembering why she admired him so much. "I'm with you. We'll just have to put our first date on hold for now and cheer him up. It's the least we can do."
Sharing a determined gaze, the two exchanged an adrenaline-pumping handshake to wish the other luck. They agreed to split up for now and reconvene once they meet back up.
Operation: Rean Revival was underway!
…
She could probably think of a better name down the line.
He thought about them for a moment.
His friends who had supported him through thick and thin.
They stood by his side and all he did was run.
He abandoned them.
I'm sorry…
Without him, they'd have no Valimar.
I'm sorry…!
No Valimar meant no victory.
I'm sorry!
Alan wasn't surprised to see Loggins in the training room. Since joining the crew, he handled the modifications for the combat shells specifically tailored for those practicing their melee combat skills. What confused him was the presence of a particular blue-haired noble.
While yes, it wasn't out of the ordinary for Laura to be in the training room as well, today was ordained for her to take point on any requests on the field. Were they already completed? If so, she worked much faster than he anticipated. But something else worried him. The way she was whacking at the combat shell Loggins prepared was… unorthodox.
"Laura?"
"Hmm?" The girl turned her attention away from the semi-autonomous training dummy. "Oh, Alan! I apologize. I was too focused on my practice swings to notice your presence."
"O-Oh! Not at all! I just wanted to ask you something, but it can wait. Sorry to bother you."
"No trouble at all. Now, if you'll excuse me." Laura lifted her massive blade to once again engage the combat shell in combat, leaving Alan even more perplexed. He walked over to Loggins, who analyzed the training session from a distance.
"Have you been here the whole time?"
"Of course. I basically run this part of the training hall. Why wouldn't I be here?" Loggins replied flatly.
"Then you already noticed?"
"Sure did."
"Why haven't you said anything to her then?"
"Listen, Alan, when there's someone out there who has crazy sword skills that even Friedel acknowledges, then you'd know better than to tell them straight up that their training is sloppy."
"...When has that stopped you before?"
"Never, but that's not the point. Basically what I'm getting at is that I want you to tell her."
"Oh, okay." Alan took a moment to process what he said. "Wait, why me?!"
Loggins draped his arm over Alan's shoulder and held him tight. "You see, Alan, my boy-"
"Please don't call me that."
"There comes a time in a man's life when he needs to walk the high road and tell a woman how he truly feels."
"If it's so easy, why don't you do it?"
"Because I truly believe in your ability to get things done. Also I'm just throwing this on your plate because I'm pissed off that you got yourself a cute girlfriend like Bridget."
"And it's my fault that women find you incorrigible?"
"Look at me, Alan." With his free hand, Loggins pointed his index and middle fingers at Alan's optic globes and back to his own multiple times. "Look at me. Look. At. Me."
"Dude, I don't think we can physically get any closer."
"So don't tell anyone I said this, but it seems like Laura's off her game since Rean's been locked up in his room. When she came back from that request from Legram, her team looked worse than my mom's casserole on family dinner night."
"And your point being…?"
"This is some lady trouble I'm not qualified for. So I thought, 'Hey! Why not get our resident lover boy on it instead? Damn, Loggins, you're a genius!' I'm sure your time with Bridget makes you the better man for the job here."
"Bridget and I haven't even dated for a whole day, dude!"
"More than I can say for myself."
"First off, the way you put that makes you sound like a sad sack. Second, how come your time with Friedel doesn't count? You two are basically an item!"
"Whatever she and I have, it ain't normal. Friedel ain't like most girls, so whatever experience I have isn't gonna help here. Now go on! I'll make it up to ya, I swear!"
Before Alan could retort, Loggins pushed the poor guy towards Laura and dashed off, leaving the two alone with a downed combat shell.
"Asshole…" he muttered.
Laura sheathed her blade and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a nearby towel. She checked the clock situated on the wall and frowned. "A tad longer than I would've preferred, but I suppose it'll do. So Alan, you said you wanted to speak to me?"
"Uh, yeah! But uhhhh…" Think Alan, think! "I know you just finished, but do you mind taking me on for a quick sparring match? It could do us both some good."
Laura nodded. "I don't see why not. I shall accept your challenge!" She looked around the now emptier room. "Though I don't see where Loggins went. He usually watches over every match, does he not?"
"Oh that… Um, well, he told me he… needed to talk to the other upperclassmen! Yeah! He didn't tell me what it was about though. So long as we can make the win decisive, we don't really need a ref anyway."
"Of course. I must say, I'm very much looking forward to this. I recall you've been improving immensely since first joining the Fencing Club. I'd like to see how far you've come!"
Laura drew her blade once more, holding it forward to maintain her distance between herself and Alan.
"Laura S. Arseid of the Arseid school, intermediate rank. I am ready."
Realizing he couldn't get himself out of this mess now, Alan grabbed one of the rapiers mounted on the wall and assumed his stance.
"Alan Wolfe of the Fencing Club and beginner rank of the Hundred-Form Style. Ready."
"And begin!"
That was… easier than he thought.
Despite the wide gap in their experience with swords, Alan capitalized on Laura's unfocused state of mind and overpowered her. Still, based on his shortness of breath, the blue-haired noble managed to give him a run for his money and pushed him to his limits despite her debilitated state. He really needed to practice some more.
"Well done, Alan! When Loggins told me you exceeded his expectations by leaps and bounds, I didn't expect this much improvement." She held onto the crossguard of her blade to keep her balance as she stood back on her feet.
"Sorry, Laura," Alan dismissed. "I can't accept your praise."
"What do you mean? The victory is yours."
"Have you really not noticed? Laura, you're the best swordsman of our year. Even at your worst, you should've trounced me."
She raised an eyebrow, but stood silent as if urging him to continue his criticism. He almost flinched, remembering Rean had once mentioned that Laura sometimes would have a glint of killing intent in her eyes, but he persevered.
"Your mind's somewhere else entirely. Even though you made me work for my victory, you still left glaring openings for me to take advantage of. I noticed it already when you were practicing with the combat shell but my victory proves it entirely."
"I… see. I hadn't realized it had gotten that bad."
"Rean's really gotten you down, huh?"
"...Yes, I'm afraid so." She sighed. "I came here to clear my mind only for my worry to increase. Not my most productive session."
"I know I may not be the best person to confide in, but do you want to talk about it? It might help having another perspective."
Laura laughed. "That's quite a surprise, coming from you. You're usually more brash about these sorts of things."
Alan scratched the back of his head and blushed. "Yeah, well, any information would be useful to me too. Bridget and I are gonna try to cheer Rean up, so it would help if someone closer to him would tell us what's going on."
"'Closer to him', you say? If only it were that simple." Laura muttered under her breath.
Alan tilted his head in confusion. "Come again?"
Laura tried composing herself, but even Alan could tell she was struggling on that front. "Rean… his relationship with Crossbell—with his friend—it isn't… It isn't healthy. It may sound foreign and outlandish from my lips, but if part of him was so willing to abandon everything we've worked for, then what else could I call it?"
Frustration seeped into every word she spouted, as if she had been holding it back for a while. And yet, despite that, Alan could tell she also felt guilty for feeling that way. Everyone knew about Rean's friend from Crossbell. Linde and Vivi even met her briefly. They all knew how much she meant to him. It felt vile to want to sever their bond, but at the same time… there came a point where it was just too much. Where it just became an obsession.
Alan would know. He felt something similar himself.
His relationship with Bridget was a result of bottled up feelings he held in for years since she moved away from their hometown. He loved her, even back when they were kids. So seeing her again at Thors… it almost overwhelmed him. Soon those feelings bred doubt. Doubt that they'd ever be friends again due to their time apart. Doubt that they would even be together due to their different social classes. Losing those countless duels to Patrick only made those feelings worse and it eventually grew into hatred. Hatred of the nobility. Hatred of his one best friend.
Had Rean not been there to let go of those ugly thoughts, he would have never been able to reconnect with Bridget. Never have been able to convey how he felt about her. If Rean wasn't there, his hatred would've turned into a bloody fixation on resenting the noble class and abandoning all sense of reason.
Rean's own compulsion to abandon his mission - his friends - was a sign that something of the same vein was happening to him too, and no one wanted that for him. It was self-destructive. Just like his own behavior.
"I getcha. Well, Bridget and I are trying to come up with a way to get him back on his feet. Something that'll really get him out of this."
"What did you have in mind?" Laura asked, finally putting away her sword. "He's been rather unresponsive."
"Well… we're still working on that." Alan chuckled awkwardly. "But hey, the more heads the better, right?"
She giggled in return. "I suppose so."
Good, at least Laura was in a better mood. They all had to be in a good mind space if they wanted to brainstorm an effective remedy for Rean's ailment. It wouldn't do anyone good if they just tried to beat him to wellness.
However, though he may be risking his limbs for his curiosity, he might as well satisfy a gnawing thought.
"I've been meaning to ask though. Are you really worried purely because you're concerned about his well being? Is there more to it than that?"
Laura flinched. Her face turned redder by the second and glared at him.
"That's none of your business."
A shiver ran down his spine. It was worth a shot.
"Bridget?"
The young noble almost fell out of her seat at the introduction of the newcomer. She turned to the source of the voice, finding one of her fellow clubmates and Class VII member Elliot Craig.
"Hello, Elliot. How do you do?"
"Uh, fine? I feel like I should be asking you that question. You've been staring at that boxed lunch for a while now."
Bridget frowned. Elliot spoke truth as for the past few minutes, all she'd done was anxiously staring down the container in her hands. After parting ways with Alan earlier, she thought to at least make Rean something to eat. Even though it was nothing compared to whatever Nicholas could've concocted, there was some hospitality in a home cooked meal. Nicholas's food sometimes felt too restaurant-like for some people even though no one could deny its quality. She banked on the hope that her cooking would be more to his taste.
…
Or at the very least, be edible. It was the thought that counted, right?
"Is that for who I think it's for?"
"Yeah. I was hoping that getting some food in him would help, at least."
Elliot's expression grew crestfallen upon hearing the hopefulness in her tone. "Yeeeeah, about that. Rean's been refusing meals since yesterday. He won't even open the door."
"Oh…" Part of her wasn't really surprised. Whatever happened, it must've been harrowing for him to experience. "That aside, how have you been faring, Elliot? Hopefully Rean's absence hasn't affected your efficiency as a team."
"Well, with my classmates, we could certainly do worse." He recalled the scene that happened just earlier and the strenuous effort needed to separate the class vice-president and the class's highest ranking noble. "...But we could do much better too."
"I'm guessing the requests haven't been easy today?"
"Well…"
"Is… is that a giant fire turtle?"
*RAUUUUGHH*
"Oh dear Aidios, what is it doing?!"
"I believe that it's vomiting lava."
"This isn't good. Gaius, you and Machias should distract it from up close. Jusis and I will take it out with our arts!"
"Understood. May the winds give us their blessings."
*SMACK*
"Aughhhhh!"
"Machias?!"
"I don't think that's supposed to bend that way…"
"They certainly… went." Elliot scratched his chin, lamenting the memory.
"Oookay? Well, is there anything else you need to finish before heading off to the shrines? Alan told me the gist of the situation."
A lightbulb illuminated over Elliot's head. "I almost forgot! Yeah, I was gonna ask you if you could help us with our last one."
"Help how?"
"It involves the situation in Celdic. Rosine asked us if we could hold a performance to raise everyone's spirits after what happened there. We already got Instructor Mary and the rest of the Wind Orchestra on board, so you're the last one we need."
Bridget's eyes widened. She had heard everything about Celdic once she joined the crew. Duke Albarea had been trying his damnedest to make sure no one in Bareahard had learned about him burning the market city to the ground and it had only reached their ears once the duke was arrested and found guilty of his crimes.
"I'd be delighted to help out, Elliot! It sounds lovely after everything they've been through."
"Awesome! We also managed to get some instruments too. We're all taking turns, so you and Instructor Mary will alternate who plays on piano. We also got another guy to come along too, so it should be quite the show."
"That's perfect! Maybe we can serve some meals afterwards. It'll be like one of those house parties my... mother used to throw. Wait a minute..." Bridget trailed off. Her mind raced a million arge a minute before her expression brightened up again. "That's it!"
Elliot tilted his head at her. "Uh, Bridget? You okay?"
"I got it!" She squealed with glee, throwing Elliot for a loop. "We should bring Rean to the performance! It'll be just what he needs!"
Taking a moment to catch his breath from Bridget's outburst, Elliot sighed in resignation. "I'm not too sure about that. I don't… I don't think what's bothering him can be solved by just playing some music. It's… a little more deep-rooted than that."
"He's worried, right? About his friend in Crossbell?"
"Uh… yeah. He is." Elliot replied awkwardly. It didn't feel comfortable revealing his friend's state to others, even his clubmate, but it was a difficult topic to avoid. He wanted to lift his spirits as much as anyone else here, but he didn't know how. None of them did.
"Unfortunately, there isn't anything we can do about that. We don't have any contact with Crossbell and even if we did, the chances of us getting to ask the girl in question herself are even slimmer."
"H-Hold up! If there's nothing we can do, what can we do? Rean's worried sick!"
Bridget waggled her finger at the boy, as if she were about to reveal her masterful deduction. "That's the thing, Elliot. You're all thinking too far into the box. We might not be able to do anything about it." She winked. "But there's someone out there who knows Rean better than anyone."
"W-Who do you have in mind?"
Bridget giggled. "You just leave that up to me, dear Elliot. I'm a woman with a plan and that plan requires a bit of surprise!"
She made her way to the elevator with an excited and determined look on her face.
"I'll meet up with you in Celdic! Tell the others to get ready too!"
The elevator doors closed as the headlights showed that she was ascending to the bridge while Elliot himself looked like a deer caught in those headlights.
"Uhhh, what happened here?"
He was approached by Alan and Laura as they came from the training room. From the looks of things, they saw Bridget excitedly run off into the elevator.
"No clue, to be honest." Elliot replied. "She said she had an idea and just ran off."
"Did she say anything about what it was?" Laura asked.
"Not really? I think she's trying to get someone to help Rean out since none of us were able to reach out to him."
"I didn't think she was capable of being that… bouncy."
"Actually, that's pretty normal for her." Alan laughed. "Once she gets an idea, she jumps on it faster than the students lining up for half-priced sandwiches at lunch."
Though he meant it as a joke, the three shivered at their own harrowing memories of that time.
"But yeah, it seems like the performance Rosine wants us to do is what set it off." Elliot explained. "Music is a great way to express your feelings, so if we can, we could have Rean in the audience too so we can at least bring him some peace."
"Still, that would require us to be able to meet up with Rean, does it not? He hasn't let anyone inside his room since this all began."
Alan huffed. "I guess that's my cue then."
The other two looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"Whatever Bridget's planning, I'll have to help her out. We'll get Rean out of his room and you guys just focus on getting the performance together."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
A mischievous glint appeared in Alan's eyes.
"Oh, I have my ways."
The deafening silence only served to leave him alone with his thoughts.
Was Juna safe?
There was no way he'd know that.
Were his friends faring well?
...Oh, who was he kidding?
If he was really worried, he'd already be out of this damn room.
They must hate him for what he did.
He was more afraid of them not accepting him than concerned of their safety.
It was pathetic.
He messed up. Plain and simple.
…
…
What is that clicking?
"Are you sure about this, Alan?"
"This was your idea, wasn't it? I'm just helping you out!"
"I know, but this feels kinda intrusive."
"Do you have a better idea of getting inside? Just wait a little bit longer. I'm almost there."
"Wait, Alan! Not so fast!"
*CLICK*
"And voilà! One unlocked door, as you requested."
"Dear Aidios, you actually did it."
"Well yeah, I needed to make sure my skills didn't get rusty. Never had a reason to since school started."
"When did you even learn how to pick locks?"
"Back home," he shrugged.
"And how in the world were you able to get through a high-tech lock like this one?"
"What, like it's hard?"
Bridget facepalmed. "Why though? When did you ever need to pick locks?"
"How did you think I managed to sneak you out of those stuffy social gatherings your parents had to go to all the time? Your dad told me where you would be and demanded that I sneak you out. He was pretty pushy about it too."
Bridget sighed. "I'd say that sounds really romantic, but I'd wish Father wouldn't drive you to becoming a criminal."
"Hey, I just said that I haven't needed to pick any locks. My hands are technically squeaky clean!"
She sighed again. "All right, okay. It doesn't matter anymore. We just need-"
"What are you two doing?"
"-to talk to him." Bridget circled her attention to the newcomer to the conversation, a disheveled Rean with a slouch and still in his night clothes, as if he had just woken up from a long slumber. He had dark bags under his puffy, soulless eyes, indicating that his slumber was most likely restless.
"Hey, Rean." Alan said as softly as he could. "How are you feeling?"
Rean doesn't respond, telling them both all they needed to know.
"Have you eaten yet?" Bridget asked, despite already knowing the answer.
"...Not hungry."
Even with the expected answer, Alan and Bridget sneak a peek behind him to peer into his room. It was pitch black—the windows covered in curtains that blocked any of the sun's rays from leaking inside. The bed was a mess and the desk was littered with papers with barely legible handwriting.
"If you two are done, I'll have to ask you to leave." He whispered. Even with all his strength, Rean couldn't even make that demand sound threatening.
"Rean, if you want to talk, we're more than happy to lend an ear." Bridget mirrored his volume. "And if not us, I'm sure your classmates would listen too."
"Please, just leave me alone."
"Rean, we won't leave you when you're clearly not okay." Alan added. "Let us help you."
Rean hadn't stopped shaking since he made his presence known. With the hushed silence that followed, Alan and Bridget exchanged a look before shrugging.
"Well, if you don't want to tell us, that's fine. But there's someone who could get through to you better than we can."
Rean did not verbally respond, only giving them a questionable look.
"Is that my cue?"
A woman approached the three, with a large case in hand. Her voice was gentle, yet a slight bit mischievous. The couple grinned while Rean looked on in disbelief, his jaw wide open.
"Mom?!"
Lucia Schwarzer smiled.
"May I come in, dear?"
With the other two gone, it was now just Rean and his mother inside his room. His face scrunched up as he struggled to not scratch an irritable itch infesting throughout his body. Meanwhile, she was just admiring the technology on display of the state-of-the-art airship.
"My, it's so dark in here." Lucia said without a care in the world. She flipped the lights on, only to expose the state of disarray and entropy he had made his room into. He could tell that her motherly instincts were about to kick in and she would clean his room for him.
"What are you doing here, Mom?" Rean asked. "Shouldn't you be at home with Dad? He's still recovering."
"Father Bernard is looking after him for the time being. And even if he were to do something as reckless as hunting in his condition, I'm sure Badeaux would have some choice words with him - if he could speak, that is. The barking will have to do."
Lucia set the large case down and picked up the blanket and bed sheets sprawled over the floor and placed them back on the bed neatly. She even fluffed the pillow for good measure.
"I heard from Miss Bridget that you've been having… trouble lately. She insisted that I come aboard and come see you."
Rean didn't meet her eyes. "So it was her idea, huh?"
"Are you upset with her coming to me?"
"N-No… It's not that. I just… I just have a hard time processing everything, you know?" Rean sat down on his freshly made bed. "It's all happening so fast. And I ended up… I really messed up."
Lucia sat next to him, pulling him closer. "Then why don't you tell your mother about it?"
Rean stayed quiet. He contemplated the events from yesterday. The sight of the Azure Tree, his incandescent daze, his willingness to abandon everything he worked for. Just for the chance to make sure she was all right. Was he able to share that with her? Share his total weakness with his mother?
He felt the warm embrace of Lucia's arm over his shoulder and the aroma of her home cooking. She didn't hold onto him too tightly, giving him room to breathe. She was giving him a choice. He appreciated that. Even with good intentions, any act of kindness can fall on deaf ears if it was forced upon an individual. Rean had an out; he could either hold everything in and take it as it came, or he could rely on her.
It angered him
He angered himself. He always needed someone to pick up the pieces for him when he messed up. He always pushed the burden onto someone else when he was the one who had to step up to the plate. No matter how much responsibility he took on to help others, he never felt brave enough to take on the problems that plagued himself.
But then he recalled their words.
"Please don't say that you don't have the 'right to be treated kindly'. Of course you do. You just don't realize it. You care so much about the people who matter to you… and they care just as much for you."
"They want the best for you, just as you want the best for them. They'd never want you to stray from your path or ideals for their sake. If you were to betray yourself, you'd no longer be you and you'd be betraying their trust in you."
"You told me you were gonna protect Crossbell, right? Don't get me wrong, that makes me happy to hear you say that but… you're still only eighteen. None of us are expecting you to be the perfect role model adult. Not your friends, not Elise, and especially not me."
…
He let out a sad, pitiful smile. That toxic way of thinking permeated far into the dark depths of his mind. The constant needing of reassurance, the same words having to be said. Words that he knows to be true and has acknowledged as such, but cannot seem to accept. It was pathetic. It was pathetic that he kept denying the people who loved him because he insisted on taking on the burden himself.
For all his friendship speeches and proclamation of bonds and trust, he was the first to jump on the isolation train to nowhere.
But now, he could at least begin to find his way.
He started by telling his mom everything about the events that transpired the other day. Every time he recalled his actions, he felt more disgusted with himself. The bitterness seeped into his words, but he held back as much as he could lest he felt the sudden urge to lash out at his mother. She, of all people, would not have deserved that.
Yet in spite of it all, she attentively listened to every word with no complaints or reprimanding for his actions. She did it all with a smile on her face.
When he finished, he let out a breath he had held in. At first, Rean was apprehensive of telling anyone any of this. The discontent overwhelmed him to share such personal feelings even with his own mother; but due to her comforting demeanor, such feelings faded as soon as he let his thoughts loose. Lucia didn't interrupt him once during his whole tirade, only making audible hums of affirmation to assure him that she heeded every word.
"Well, Rean? Now that you've gotten that off your chest, how do you feel now?"
"I… If I'm being honest, I don't know." He balled his hands into fists and clutched onto the fabric of his trousers. "I know what I did was… unsettling to them. I know how hard everyone's been working in order to achieve our goal; to see this war through to the end. So doing what I did… it trampled on the very foundation we created."
Lucia stayed silent, allowing him to continue.
"It was traitorous. I betrayed the trust my friends put in me because I wanted to go out there to make sure Juna was safe from whatever the hell that's been going on in Crossbell! And you want to know the worst part, Mom?" He choked, holding back his tears. He marched on, only able to let out his words in quiet whispers.
"I'm not even sure if I regret it at all. If… If I end up seeing it again, I don't know if I won't do the same thing all over again."
"Oh, Rean…"
Lucia held him tighter, this time with both arms coiled around his body. He returned the gesture, trying but failing to keep his silent wails in check.
"Rean, I fear I have to apologize to you." Lucia whispered in soft breaths.
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong."
"No, that's precisely the issue. I didn't do anything." Lucia broke the embrace apart and gave Rean a stern gaze. "You and Juna have known each other since you were kids. I saw how attached you two were and it made me so happy for you to make a friend. But…"
She turned away.
"I noticed over time that your relationship with her had caused you to become overly attached. It was subtle at first. You have a way of hiding your emotions, but a mother can tell these sorts of things."
"W-What are you saying?"
"I'm trying to say that you have to know that Juna has grown up now. She's been studying hard and made it into the Police Academy. She works with the department to prevent crime and keep the peace. She's not someone you have to think about protecting all the time. And the same is true of Elise as well. They're both incredibly strong now and I believe that your overprotective nature has made you blind to this."
"..."
"That's not to say I'm not worried about them either. Juna is just about as much of a daughter as Elise is to me, so I can't help but worry about the both of them. But I worry about you just as much. That's just how mothers are."
"Mom…"
Rean looked at his hands. They were shaking.
She was right. He knew it. Juna and Elise had grown up to be upstanding and strong young women. Unlike that day five years ago, they didn't need him to protect them. What they needed him to do was to stand on his own feet and embrace his convictions. To be himself and care for himself.
Juna… She wouldn't have wanted him to hover over her for the rest of her life. She deserved better than that. As did he. They're meant to be two individuals to enrich each other's lives, not be a central part of them.
He knew all of that.
But one fear remained constant. It kept gnawing at him relentlessly, sowing seeds of doubt within him until it engulfed his very being. It scared him.
"What if… What if I regress?" he asked, clenching his still shaking hands. "What if I make the same mistakes again? What if I end up messing things up far worse than they are now?"
"Rean, no one said it would be easy." She gently placed her hands over his. "Every day will be a struggle. There will be times where you'll relapse. That's normal for anyone."
"That's why it scares me so much. No matter how hard I try, it feels inevitable that it'll happen. Sooner or later, something will make me crack."
Lucia frowned. She knew where he was coming from and it didn't help that Rean's self-esteem was never the greatest. But she knew exactly how he felt.
"There's a story that your father once told me before we got married. A folk story that's passed down in Ymir's history. You remember it, right?"
Not knowing where she was going with this, Rean decided to follow her lead. He searched through the recesses of his memory for any tale matching the description. "The Boy and the Blizzard, right?"
Lucia nodded. "That's the one. Your father doesn't tell you and your sister the story much anymore, so I doubt you remember the specifics."
"Yeah, Dad was never one for tradition." Rean laughed weakly.
She joined him. "No, he wasn't. But he regaled the tale to me anyway. A story about a young musician lost in a blizzard, struggling to find his purpose in life following the death of a loved one. One day, he comes across a fire that had been lit inside a cave and settles there for the night. The warmth the fire provides is heavenly, giving him light to see, heat for comfort, and a place to practice his craft. He finally found happiness in his dark, cruel reality."
"...What happened next?"
"According to your father, the ending is up for dispute, but the message stays the same. Either the flame eventually peters out and threatens to freeze the musician to death or it burns him during one of his practice sessions because he stood too close. While both results are painful for the wandering vagabond, he learns that he must march onward and strive for a future he can be satisfied with."
"So you're saying I'm like this musician?"
"It's more like the musician is symbolic of our journey as human beings. Nothing is as straightforward as they appear and we find our paths through the most painful of experiences. I'm not asking you to be perfect, Rean. It's in our nature to fall down on our path to our ideal result. But as long as you get back up, dust yourself off, and forge onward, you'll get where you'll want to be."
Where he wanted to be, huh? It made sense. Just as he wouldn't be the swordsman he was now without the years of practice he had to endure, the road to becoming a better person was just as rife with its own trials. He'd have to take it one step at a time. He'd stumble along the way, but he would have to do it regardless.
"And besides," she continued. "You've made quite a number of friends who care about your wellbeing since enrolling at Thors. I just know that they'll support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, Mom. I… I really needed that," he said, finally giving way to a smile.
"Anytime, honey." She returned with her own smile. "I hoped it would come as a comfort to you, seeing as how the tale was the inspiration of one of your favorite songs."
"Wait, which one?"
"You know the one."
"I do…? Hold up, you don't mean? I didn't even realize!"
"That's right. When Master Ka-fai heard the tale, he played his own version of the song. Master of more than just the blade, that man is."
Rean chuckled. "He sure is." His old master was always full of surprises. For a lanky old man, you'd think him more senile and mirthful than wise and creative. "Anyway, um, why did Dad tell you that story?"
"Oh, that?" Lucia giggled at the memory. "It was his way of proposing to me."
Rean furrowed his brow. "Don't tell me that was what impressed you."
"Oh, heavens no. Your poor father stumbled a few times while retelling the tale. He's the reason why no one remembers how the story goes in the end. He's told it so many times, he forgothow it ended! Can you imagine?" She laughs again. "But, I did love the man, so I accepted. On the condition that I lead storytime with the kids."
"Geez, Mom. Go for the throat, why don't you?"
"That's how it is." Lucia huffed her chest in triumph. "And stumble as he did, he at least had the confidence to see it through to the end. That's a mark of a great man. A trait I know you inherited."
Rean laughed. "I sure hope so. Oh, and one last question." He pointed to the large case Lucia brought into his room. "What is that?"
Lucia smirked and clapped her hands together.
"That's a surprise! Now come on! I heard that your friends are doing a performance!"
Rean found it difficult to look anyone in the eye upon leaving his room. He couldn't tell whether or not anyone was giving him icy glares or pitiful glances and he felt too afraid to find out. Still, Alan and Bridget were right outside, waiting for him and his mom to finish their talk and were elated to see him properly dressed in his traveling clothes.
Towa's reaction was the most visceral, tackling him into the ground and nearly fracturing his ribs in the process. She apologized so profusely that it came out as gibberish after the first few minutes. No amount of comforting words was able to get the small captain off of him, but he was grateful that she worried so much.
During his short venture to the bridge, Rean noticed that none of his classmates were anywhere to be seen. Through her tears, Towa informed him of the request of putting on a performance for the people of Celdic.
Pangs of guilt went through his body as he was reminded of the events that happened in the town just a few days back. He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he didn't stop to realize that they had had it much worse than he had.
Before the dread could consume his thoughts, however, he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. One belonging to his mother accompanied by a gentle smile. Though she spoke no words, the message was clear: "Do not fret your past actions. Look for what you can do for the present."
Rean requested that they be let off at the market town as soon as possible. Once they landed, he, Lucia, Alan, and Bridget made their way to the church. The surroundings were still as morbid as ever. The arches destroyed and broken from their supports, char marks on buildings and roads produced from the flames, and debris scattered throughout the market itself. The harrowing sight was enough to make Lucia sick and scoff at the foolishness of the Noble Faction.
Even the entrance of the church had not been left unscathed. But it was enough to house the injured and unconscious victims of the attack. No fatal casualties except for the one unfortunate soul who loved this town more than anyone.
Upon entering the chapel, Bridget separated from their group to join the rest of the Wind Orchestra by the podium. It seemed like the others took the time to invite Instructor Mary and even that one wandering musician they've seen from time to time.
His friends all seemed to notice him, looking relieved and anxious to see him moving about for the first time in two whole days. He still couldn't bring himself to look any of them in the eye, but he was glad he could put their minds at ease, even for a little.
The performance was stellar. It would be foolish to ever think otherwise. With Hibelle commandeering the whole operation, it was destined to run smoothly. Elliot's soft tones on his violin danced in the air, Bridget and Instructor Mary's masterful piano melodies sang along with it, and even Mint's unique personality was able to shine through her flute playing.
It captivated the audience. The residents of the town were in awe of the delightful display while Rean and his classmates cracked a smile upon feeling the soothing vibrations in the air.
Miraculously, the music made its way into the bedchambers nearby and woke up the unconscious. Elliot had once told him that he truly believed in the healing properties music was capable of. Even if it can't cure the physical damage one's body sustains, it can at the very least put the mind at ease. If not, it could also be an outlet to release any bottled up tensions and regrets to continue forward. While Rean was never skeptical, he was in veneration of the result.
Juna also possessed a similar enthusiasm for music. She was more of a listener than a player, but she held a similar belief that all sorts of music was able to convey the human heart and whatever ails or aids it. He recalled the time he got her to sing that night at the harbor.
He could use the same treatment again.
Then maybe…
Maybe he can move forward as well.
With a bow and an applause, tearful reunions with the fallen were had. The kids who played around the church embraced their friend who had saved them from the falling debris, merchants caught up in the crossfire cried tears of joy, and even Louise, the waitress at the Weathercock Inn who was gracious enough to take care of Rean and his group during their field study and Sara's close friend, was reunited with her family.
The power of music was truly something to behold.
"Why don't you join them?" Lucia suggested.
"They were the ones who did all the work. They deserve to celebrate on their own."
"I thought you'd say that." She delicately shoved the large case into his arms, almost tripping him from the newfound weight. "So I brought this just in case."
"I've been wondering, what is that?" Alan asked, pointing to the case.
"I asked her, but she never answered." Rean sighed. "Come on, Mom. What did you lug all the way here?"
"Something you always enjoyed on your off days. Nothing cheered you up more. Well, nothing but the smile of a certain someone, but that's neither here nor there." Lucia teased.
"Mom…"
"Oh! Right, not in front of your friends. Sorry."
It was too late. Alan was already snickering.
Ignoring him, Rean examined the case. It looked relatively new, without a single scratch on it. His mom must've purchased it while he was still in school. The grains of the wood were well sanded and the texture felt clean and smooth. He opened up the case at last, only needing to flip up the two locking mechanisms on the sides. It creaked wide open, revealing something he had not touched since attending Thors.
A musical instrument that he had grown accustomed to after learning the lute from his father. It sported a thin, fretless neck attached with three wooden pegs at the head; one on the left, and two on the right. The pegs were tied with three nylon strings and traveled to the body of the instrument, a drum-like structure, and tied onto a cloth tailpiece at the bottom.
"What is that?" Alan stared at the object.
"My… shamisen?"
Lucia nodded. "You played it all the time when Master Yun taught you. You became so enamored with the instrument that your father was beginning to feel jealous you weren't taking the lute seriously enough."
"B-But why? It's been months since I touched the thing! I'm out of practice!"
"Ah, but wasn't it you who always told me that the shamisen was more about how you convey your feelings rather than your skill in playing it? And before you ask, I've had it maintained thanks to an acquaintance who works for the Rieveldt Company. The strings are as good as new and the wood's been polished."
Rieveldt? He's heard the name before, but right now, that information was the furthest from his mind.
"You… want me to play? For everyone here?"
"No, Rean. I want you to play for yourself." Lucia corrected. "Relieve yourself of your troubles and remind yourself why you've come this far. The blizzard might freeze everything in its path, but the spring will come and melt your worries away. Isn't that right?"
The blizzard, huh?
She was right.
He had let these thoughts fester within himself for too long. It was time for him to stop wandering and begin searching for what he had been looking for.
He grinned. "I've got just the thing in mind."
The surprise on his friends' faces when he asked to play amused him, but it wasn't totally unwarranted. The girls sighed in relief to see him better, the boys each gave him an encouraging smack on the back, and Elliot readied the stage faster than he could call for Valimar. Listening to the eastern instrument was definitely a new experience for all of them, so the excitement felt justified.
Usually, he'd wear more traditional clothing during his performances and practice sessions; free flowing eastern clothes that were worn by soldiers from the opposite side of the continent. Master Ka-fai called them "regimental soldier uniforms", but Rean himself never really understood how they were suitable for war. Still, they were comfortable and provided good circulation with how intense shamisen playing could be.
He had to make due with his regular traveling clothes. Unfortunately, that would mean he'd be drenched in sweat by the time he finished. In addition, his yubikake, the cloth worn on his left hand to slide his fingers down the neck of the instrument, wouldn't match his outfit. Not that that was much of a concern to him, but even he can appreciate a matching aesthetic.
Elliot, in all his exhilarated glory, quickly cleared the area and pulled out the piano bench to serve as Rean's sitting area. He personally would've preferred a chair, but with his musician friend jumping up and down in the front seat, he felt like it would've been a crime to delay the show any longer.
Rean took a seat, and took the time to tune while striking his shamisen with his bachi. Everyone looked at him with anticipation and his mother sent an encouraging look his way.
…
It gives off a soft sound at first.
One. Two.
One. Two.
One. Two.
Soon each note comes out as swift as lightning and increases in intensity. Images of a traditional ritual dance flash through Rean's mind. A strong snow storm blows through the room, forcefully blowing the audience away.
He felt the harsh intensity. It was passionate. Hot-blooded.
Violent yet beautiful.
Relentless yet poetic.
It comes in like a blizzard that has no end in sight. The forces of nature threaten to spin a web of frost through the chapel and even beyond that.
Then, it begins to calm.
Rean's fingers stay in the same position while striking his shamisen repeatedly with his bachi.
Little by little, the sound grows sadder. More heartrending. It weakens and wanes as the volume of each note grows more frail and fragile.
Quiet.
The sound is at a near silence, barely resonating but still audible.
The image in his mind becomes desperate. The blizzard begins taking over with no hope or recourse. The cold winter begins to freeze over everything in its path. The flora all die. The wildlife goes into hibernation. All is hopeless.
…
…
Then it comes in like a lightning bolt.
The sound claws its way up again, refusing to be beaten down by the storm. Rean keeps striking, issuing a challenge to himself. To overcome his own weaknesses. To defeat himself. To survive the storm.
His heart blazes forth, melting the snow and the emotions that held him back before.
Spring had sprung.
The sound transitions into a gentler melody, releasing the regrets and anger he held inside him. The sweetness of the ebb and flow of the notes evokes an emotional catharsis. Rean can even feel himself becoming lighter.
Now starts another crescendo of the notes. Unlike before, it is not all at once. The notes gradually increase in intensity, rather than dynamically bouncing in a single burst. The striking speed of the bachi becomes faster and faster.
The spring of birth makes way to a new sapling; a new life. The gradual growth comes and goes, turning the sapling into a tree as the soft notes go higher and higher in volume. Once the sound hits its climax, Rean comes to a glorious conclusion, but not to his performance.
"Huh!" Rean continues with a battle cry.
The rays of the sun penetrate the overcast skies and shine its light upon the beauty of nature. Rean's fingers dance on the neck of the instrument, filling the room with excitement and anticipation. He rushes the beat to build its momentum to the final strike.
The music pulls back for a moment as Rean contemplates his next move. But he lets the sound unfold naturally as he races to the finish line. He repeats the same notes with fierce intensity before letting it fall off again and disappear into the aether.
…
…
It comes back in full force.
He feels his spirit returning to his body after an arduous journey and with that, his journey comes to a close.
He finishes it off with one final strike.
…
Rean's body was drenched in sweat, just as he predicted. He let out heavy breaths, inhaling and exhaling in large portions to reclaim his lost energy.
Playing for the first time in forever made him feel elation.
He could visibly see the audience cheering for him, but he couldn't hear a sound of it. It felt as if he lost all sense of hearing. All he knew at that moment was the weight lightening its load over his shoulder. Not completely gone, but easier to handle.
He doubted he had to go that hard into his music. The audience probably would've been impressed with him being able to play the foreign instrument at all due to their unfamiliarity, let alone playing it well. But no. He had to give it everything he had. Even though he was putting on a performance, he did it for himself.
The piece he played was unique in that it could not be replicated. Songs of that type were meant more as musical gestures than compositions. While the song structure may be similar, the artist was the one who molded it into a new form.
This was his version. His feelings culminated into one single revelation of music. It all came together.
His friends came up to praise him for his performance; all of them pleasantly surprised about the unique sound that the shamisen provided. Elliot was the most mesmerized, even going as far as demanding Rean give him lessons in their free time. The redhead sounded even pushier compared to when he was coaching them for the festival concert.
However, once noticing Rean's fatigue, the others offered to clean up the stage for him until he got his bearings together. Emma made sure to remind him about visiting the remaining shrines to which Rean wholeheartedly agreed. His mind was now clear and ready to act.
"Rean!"
The next two to approach him were Alan and Bridget. The smiles on their faces shined brightly as they too sang their praises for Rean's performance.
"Wow. I knew you were really good at the concert, but that was like on a different level!" Alan exclaimed, patting him on the back but immediately regretting it as he felt the sweat permeating through his jack.
"Yeah, that was amazing!" Bridget added. "I didn't think music could evoke such beautiful imagery. Is that how shamisen playing goes?"
"Haha, kinda. I've been out of practice for a while, so I just… played how I felt. The shamisen works really well for that."
He chuckled and stole a glance at his mom. She nodded with a smile and headed out the door, presumably to meet him back on the Courageous.
"Thanks, you two."
"Huh?" Alan arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean? We didn't do much."
"Of course you did. Most of this was your idea, wasn't it?"
"Not at all," Bridget chimed in. "Class VII was the one who arranged the whole performance in the first place. We just thought-"
"But it was your idea to get me here to cheer up. You even thought of bringing my mom as the cavalry." Rean pulled the two into a tight hug. "It might not have been much, but you two did so much for me. I can't thank you enough."
"Rean…"
"Ah, c'mon man!" Alan sniffed. "You're gonna make me all teary-eyed."
The three of them stayed in that position for a few minutes, grateful that they finally pulled Rean out of his earlier stupor.
…
…
"Hey, Rean?"
"Yeah?"
"I… appreciate your appreciation, but you… you kinda stink."
"Yeaaah, this is sorta making me uncomfortable."
Rean sighed. "I'm glad I'm not the only one."
Once Rean realized he would end up third-wheeling on their first date, he left Alan and Bridget to their own devices and parted ways.
It seemed that in addition to their performance, Rosine wanted to serve up meals for the victims thanks to Bridget's earlier suggestion. They couldn't set up a buffet, unfortunately, but it wasn't like Nicholas's stew was anything to scoff at. It made Rean feel guilty for wasting so much for the past few days. Nicholas was even nice enough to give him extra to make up for his skipped meals.
And what do you know? Bridget even snuck in a boxed lunch for him. Hopefully, Alan got one too or else there would be some major misunderstandings between them going forward.
He sat on the old patio in the market. Though most of it had burned down, some of the tables were left relatively unscathed. While it was still a little dangerous to choose it as his dining location, he wanted to be alone for just a while longer before resuming his duties later.
"There you are, Rean. I've been looking for you."
…So much for that idea.
"Hey, Laura."
"Might I inquire why you're all the way out here?"
"Yeah, well," he gestured to his large selection of food, ranging from the stew as well as the sandwiches from the boxed lunch. "I have a bit too much, so I didn't want to subject anyone to watching me pig out for the first time in days."
Laura giggled. "I can imagine. Don't worry, Rean. You're in safe hands with me."
"I appreciate it." He paused, trying not to make the air awkward between the two of them. "How's it going?"
"I felt rather exhausted earlier, but I'm rather energized now." The blue-haired noble sat down across from him with her own plate of stew and bread. However, from the way she said that, it didn't seem like her words matched her tone.
"Oh, really? Is it the food? I'd say the same, but I think my mom made a bit of a scene because she wanted to make me my favorite pheasant stew. Dear goddess, she could be embarrassing sometimes." Rean laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
She didn't receive the message and just shook her head. "No. I think I have you to thank for that."
"Me?" Rean asked. "Was it the performance?"
Laura emptily chuckled. "I admit, that's part of the reason. Despite my noble status, I'm not as well-ranged in the art of music than I am with the sword. It can be rather vexing from time to time as a result. Because of that, I greatly admire those who excel in the practice such as you and Elliot."
Rean frowned, lowering his food. "Don't say that, Laura. The Arseid family just has different priorities than other noble houses. No one's going to disparage you for not having a totally expansive skill set."
"I suppose so, but that's neither here nor there." She bit off a piece of bread she dipped into her stew, chewed, and swallowed. "But I suppose the main reason that I'm feeling better is that you are too."
His eyes widened before finding the grass a little more interesting than Laura herself. "Well, it was the least I could do, after all I put you guys through. I'm sorry, Laura."
"No, you needn't apologize." Laura held out her hand and made a stopping gesture. "I just find myself… dissatisfied. None of us were able to raise your spirits and yet Bridget was easily able to find a solution. It makes me somewhat envious if I were to be honest." She stared at her reflection in the appetizing liquid.
Rean scratched the back of his head, struggling to form a response. What was he supposed to say? That she shouldn't worry? That Bridget was just better at picking up these things? Neither was true and both would be doing a disservice to her and Bridget.
Instead, he resolved to echo what his mother taught him just earlier.
"Laura…"
She slowly looked up at him. "Yes…?"
"If I'm being honest, I can't say I'm totally over whatever that came over me. I… If I see that thing again, I don't know what I'd do. And that terrifies me."
"Rean…"
"I already told my mom about this, but I just fear whatever I'm feeling will climb back out when I least expect it. It'll keep following me like a shadow and I won't ever escape it. It… feels a bit similar to that power I possess. Wholly different, but terrifying all the same."
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.
"That's why I'd like to request something from you."
"Of course, Rean. If it's within my power, I'll help you however I can."
Rean flashed a smile. "Thank you." He paused for a second, thanking Aidios for blessing him with great friends to count on. "If it ever comes down to it... please support me however you can if I ever do regress. I know that my reactions from this time around might make that sound discouraging, but I at least promise to be more responsive to your efforts."
"..."
"I wasn't fair to you guys, but I also can't promise this won't happen again. I'm… sorry for making you listen to such a selfish request."
Laura shook her head. "No, Rean. What you're asking for is perfectly reasonable. We're all friends, after all. It's completely normal for friends to want to help each other. And it's what makes Class VII, Class VII."
"Ha, I guess you're right. Thanks, Laura. I'll be counting on you."
Laura soon gave way to a real smile this time, like a knight accepting her duty. "Of course. And I shall strive to meet your expectations."
Hoo boy! A full chapter without Juna this time. Sorry, how will any of us ever recover? I kinda apologize if Rean ended up being too much teenage angst here, but I felt like his change of perspective of the Azure Tree here compared to canon warrants such a reaction.
I took a few liberties with this chapter, as you can tell. Alan and Bridget don't canonically get together until after the liberation of Trista, but I thought it'd be nice to move it to here as a contrasting yet parallel relationship to our two resident heroes. Also, there wasn't any deep meaning behind "Wolfe" as Alan's last name. They're both Germanic in nature, so I thought it would fit.
The song Rean plays is "Tsugaru Jongara Bushi", a rather well-known piece played on the shamisen. As noted in the chapter, it's not so much an actual composition, but rather a reflection of the performer's feelings. As such, there are no two renditions that ever sound the exact same. There are a lot of videos of the piece that can be used as a reference, but Rean's version is meant to be unique to him.
Speaking of which, it was tough trying to transcribe music that doesn't have any lyrics. Luckily, Tsugaru music tends to invoke all sorts of imagery that can be used to portray it better in writing. I did some research and this is what I came up with (aka shamelessly stole) and I quite like it.
Okay, at this point, we really only have one chapter to go before the ending of CS2. Until next time, thank you for waiting and reading! One last thing to mention is that I think updates might be a bit more sporadic going forward. With my job changing my hours and finding that I've had little time to play any games, I wanted to take the time to relax. I'll still be writing, of course, so don't worry!