Stronger Than Fire

By: Aviantei

Chapter Thirteen

As part of her "get a regular and rational portion of sleep" initiative, Emília had worked to become an early riser, even on weekends. It wasn't as difficult as people made it seem, but that could be said for any habit. She had also begun working an extended training regimen into her schedule, which meant waking up even earlier, regardless of the previous night's escapade.

Maybe it was because she had worked herself up to it. Maybe it was how she had brewed up the last batch of pills. Maybe it was old habits kicking in. In any event, Emília didn't feel tired at all, even though she had slept less than usual. Of course, the human body was said to take two days to actually be affected by the amount of sleep it got, so there was a chance she'd feel groggy tomorrow.

None of that mattered when she got down to focusing, though. The Illuminati main headquarters had a gym in place that ran twenty-four-seven, to accommodate the habits of agents who didn't function during normal business hours of the town. In fact, most of the facility remained operational, regardless of the time, and personal bedrooms were probably the only ones that had the lights turned off on a regular basis. Although, there was a chance that some maniacs slept with the lights on, too…

Whatever.

Emília focused her attention on the punching bag in front of her. The borrowed boxing gloves lessened the impact from her point of view, but it wasn't like she was trying to refine her combat skills or anything. The important part was getting her arms moving, tearing muscle down to build it back up, better. Weights would come after this, and she'd finish off the session with a run just in time to grab some lunch.

"Whoa, Lia, don't tell me you're mad today. That's a lot more sweat and force than usual!"

Emília stopped her punch partway through the action, leaving the punching bag hanging innocently. Harper stood to the side, her pigtails traded for a poofy bun cresting over her skull. After her exorcism, her health had immediately turned upwards, but she had begun basic exercise as a form of rehabilitation. Emília bet it helped the brunette's mental state as well, so it was good for her regardless. Once Emília had begun her own training, the two often crossed paths.

"Not mad, just making sure to push my limits a bit," she said, smiling a little. "I still don't feel enough of a burn when I finish up for the day, so I guess I subconsciously went harder because of it."

Harper returned the smile, hands clasped behind her back. "If you tear yourself up too much, you won't be able to do anything at all," she advised, though it was a moot point. Emília knew that, one of the things easily grained into her memory, remaining in her subconscious at least whenever she was on a job. Still, Harper was just trying to be nice. "But I am glad you're just working hard. It would have made me sad to see you angry after being in a good mood for so long."

"Good mood, huh?" Emília repeated. As far as she was concerned, there had been no real change in her mood whatsoever.

Harper nodded, holding the opposing opinion. "Mmhmm!" she hummed, the pitch her voice rising higher than usual. It was a sign of her enthusiasm, and Emília resolved to think over her recent behavior in more detail in the near future. "We really haven't talked too much lately since you've been busy, but my hypothesis is that it started once Ren showed up."

Emília understood instantly. The Kid? They were really saying this was because of the Kid? It would have taken too long to get into the right state of mind to analyze herself, so Emília pushed it off, rolling her shoulders through a shrug. "Right, there was something I meant to mention to you. Wanna head to the showers together?"

Harper wasn't the type of person that needed things spelled out for her—despite her perfectly clean shorts and t-shirt, the young scientist fell right into step behind Emília. Fortunately, the room was empty, and Harper took a seat on the bench as Emília turned on a shower head a few stalls away from them.

"I have some things for you to consider in your research," Emília said.

"Oh?" Harper's interest immediately spiked up, the girl looking quite ready to begin bouncing at any minute. Emília bridged her hands together and stared at the unoccupied shower curtain in front of her. "You didn't mention any of this before, Lia. No fair keeping secrets." The teasing was only half-there, though. It didn't take long for Harper's entire existence to begin screaming, I want to know.

I have to know. I need it. So come on, tell me already.

Emília made a point not to watch her client's expression.

"The Myodha Sect has had a long tradition of familiars—most notably, the Hojo family has a bloodline deal with several Nagas. Of course, the qualifications for Tamers are very vague—you know all that grumble on 'innate talent' or whatever." Emília felt a bitterness in her mouth from her own incompetence. "But putting that aside, the Suguro line formed their contract with Karura. In the process, the Shima family also gained a contract bloodline with Yamantaka."

Harper didn't care about all the details; Emília knew that. Still, be damned if she was going to give incomplete information. "While the Karura contract could be passed from head to head by blood, Yamantaka's is less flexible. Black flames are valuable, and the influence they wield makes manifesting them in Assiah more difficult.

"The last Shima to have the contract with Yamantaka was the Kid's grandfather—Shima Fuuzo. When he passed away, the Shimas went to renew their contract. While it would have been a simple matter to reform the contract with the current head, they instead chose to place it with the heir—the eldest son, Shima Takezo. This way, they hoped to eliminate the hassle of reforming the contract sooner. Takezo was honored, being the ideal heir. However, when the ritual to form the contract was carried out, it failed. Instead, Yamantaka attached himself to the Kid—Renzo, that is.

"He was an infant—hardly even three months old, but Yamantaka chose him. Since the contract can't be broken any way other than death, there weren't any redoes. And it's not like they could have just killed a baby to fix the contract." Emília snorted. "Not that it mattered much since the Blue Night happened and knocked all the hopes of the Shima family heir down the drain. They would have had to redo it anyway. So much for efficiency."

It was an unnecessary anecdote to add, namely because Harper had stopped listening. The girl was muttering to herself, probably formulating theories. It was all up to her how she used that information, though it would probably get passed to Cyneric in the near future. Still, that wasn't something Emília had to trouble herself with.

"…so it's a contract officially tied to a different master. I guess that's kind of like us and the Gates. Only Lord Satan is supposed to create it, so we're forcing the connection through us. If we find a way to strengthen the contract bond, then…" Harper's mutterings trailed off, and she managed to actually see Emília for the first time in several minutes. "Hey, what's the deal?" she said. "Like Cy said, you don't give stuff away for free."

Emília shrugged. "I spilled some info, so I'm returning the favor," she explained. It wasn't a sense of guilt that fueled the exchange—only fairness. The Kid knew some personal things about the Lucassens, so now the Lucassens would know some personal things about the Kid. And in this case, it was helpful information, too, so it could result in a favor—if both Cyneric and Harper didn't take their loyalties seriously enough already. "That's about all there is to it."

"Gah, just what I needed now. Giving me a reason to work on a Saturday. And on top of that I haven't been able to take a run yet!" Harper huffed, standing up. "Thanks a bunch, but now my schedule's full, so if you'll excuse me." Unnecessarily warming up, Harper jogged out of the shower room, and Emília stood up.

"Later," she said, though the other girl was long gone. Not in the mood to get soaking wet, Emília left the shower running and headed towards the weights.

Renzo woke up firmly aware of the fact that doing laundry would be a necessity today. Beyond that, he still felt shaken, and a headache less severe than he had expected throbbed at his temples. He wondered if Emília made headache medicine as well, and briefly considered calling her. He shook some sense into himself, knowing it would just be easier to buy some when he went out to the convenience store.

But before any of that could happen, he needed a shower. He still smelt faintly like the house special, and he felt disgusting on top of that. He had no memory of coming back to his room, so Emília or Nikita must have carried him—and judging by what vague memories he did have, Renzo easily bet that it was the former.

Ugh, just how much did she notice?

He didn't want to think about it. Peeling off his soiled clothes, he headed towards the bathroom. The Western shower system was still something he wasn't entirely used to, but he was familiar with it enough by now. Turning the shower on, Renzo closed his eyes while waiting for the water to warm up. Beyond the migraine, his head felt all messed up.

"Who decided wet dreams could be nightmares anyway?" he muttered, stepping under the water. He cleaned himself up on autopilot. It was some seriously sick junk going on in his subconscious. It was probably the first time he had regretted dreaming about that sort of thing.

But despite feeling like he'd been run over by several trucks, it had still felt good. Sure, it was a dream, but he had gotten to watch Emília, the way her mouth moved… Realizing the direction his thoughts were going in, Renzo turned the water to its coldest setting for the rest of the shower, forcing himself to stay until he was completely clean.

Spirits dampened somewhat, he dried off and went to get dressed. Most of his casual clothes were from his stint as Sato, and still didn't feel very him. It would have to do until he got the energy to go shopping, which wasn't going to be today. Finding a still clean tank top, he put it on with an over shirt, hunger pains pulling attention from his skull to his stomach.

Renzo found his phone plugged into the wall, and flipped it open while digging around in his pockets for his wallet. There weren't any messages or calls, which meant if Emília or Nikita had planned to taunt him, it wouldn't be just yet. Other than that, it was past noon, which meant he should get lunch as well. Deciding that he'd rather spend the majority of the day in his room, Renzo gathered up his laundry and resolved to buy take-out at the convenience store.

Being a weekend, the laundry room was pretty crowded, but Renzo found an empty washer to dump his clothes in and swiped someone else's detergent from their basket to get the job done. Satisfied that it would be finished by the time he got back or someone would switch it on their own if he was late, Renzo headed out into the town.

He hadn't memorized the town layout as well as the base, but it couldn't be that hard to find a convenience store around here, and the base was easily visible to return to. Getting lost shouldn't even been an issue in his situation.

It took some time, but after wandering for a while, Renzo found a place to fit all his needs. He browsed through the magazine rack, picking up a small stack before heading on to the food. It wasn't anything like a Japanese store, and Renzo didn't recognize anything, so he picked something that looked relatively tasty and moved on. Feeling like making a habit hijacking other Illuminati members' belongings was in bad taste, he grabbed some laundry soap before heading up to the counter.

The only cashier available at the moment was a guy, but Renzo didn't feel up to playing around at the moment. The important thing was to get his stuff together and get back to the base. When prompted, he whipped out his Illuminati card, aware that he still hadn't figured out his balance. Then again, it was a convenience store, so it wasn't like it would knock out his resources, and the only other time he had used it was when he had gone to the café with Emília…

"You're supposed to be a spy, not a shut-in," he mumbled, stepping back into the streets. Using the massive white building itself to guide him back, Renzo navigated the streets. At this rate, there was a chance that everyone might get suspicious of him. Of course, changing his attitude might just make it worse, and if he asked Emília for advice that could give an unnecessary hint. Ugh, at this point he would even take talking to the Headmaster, but that wasn't until the end of the month…

Renzo shook his head. I can't be that paranoid. Start that up and Emília will read it for sure. Besides, I don't think she'd get suspicious over that… She trusts me, right?

Trying to think about Emília only sent his thoughts in the wrong direction, and Renzo quickened his pace. Soon enough he was climbing the steps to the base, and he would have thrown open the door if it wasn't on a pressurized spring. He whipped down the hallways on autopilot, resolving to stuff his face and properly work off all this frustration so that he could go back to doing what he was supposed to do.

"Ah, if it's not Shima Renzo-kun. How have you been?"

Trying not to stand too awkwardly, Renzo turned around, only to find Todo Saburota, possibly the last person he wanted to see right now. Glancing at the bag in his hand, Renzo moved it behind his back. "I've been alright," he said. "Mostly busy."

To be perfectly honest, Renzo had almost forgotten about the man. They had worked together while infiltrating the Deep Keep, and Todo had been the one to tell Renzo to stay put in Kyoto, but that all felt like ages ago. But Todo was an Illuminati member, so it only stood that he would be here, too.

It was also a completely different matter to see him aged down, the side-effect of having Karura forcibly possess him. Still, all of that didn't change the fact that Renzo couldn't find a good way to leave without sounding suspicious.

"Yeah, the same for me," Todo said. Light conversation only made Renzo feel queasy. "I actually have some meetings to get to, so if you'll excuse me. Maybe we can talk some other time."

"Yeah." Or not. Waving, Renzo waited until Todo was out of sight, then bolted towards his room.

At this point, he wouldn't even let Emília stop him.

Having the opportunity to send a message to Shima probably should have made Konekomaru feel better. Somehow, the whole situation only managed to make him feel worse.

He couldn't think of much to say aside from casual conversation. He should have had questions to ask, but he wasn't comfortable forwarding them through the Headmaster. Konekomaru would have felt better if he could talk to Shima in person, but he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Realistically they wouldn't even be able to see each other until Renzo's infiltration was over.

And who knows when that's going to be…

Bon wasn't around at the moment, so the whole dorm room felt even emptier. All of Shima's belongings were still there, a mess neither Konekomaru nor Bon could bring themselves to clean up. They just went on with their lives, Bon barreling ahead with even more force than usual.

Shima,

Konekomaru stopped his pen. He had been waffling around the message for hours. It was time to get things done or not at all.

Things have been pretty dull since we got back from Inari. We've all been worried about you, but nothing else big has happened yet. Just Cram School and the usual. A couple days ago we convinced the Headmaster to let us send you some messages, but I get it if you don't want to go back.

Izumo told me some things. Not much, but in passing. She said you told her you hate everything. Is that true? I can't stop worrying about it. I keep thinking that maybe Bon and I were the problem, even though you said he wasn't. I can't help thinking about you in Kyoto and how you ran away, because I think you were tired of everything. I can't blame you.

I'm jealous because I want to run away sometimes, too. I want to help Ossan and Okami, but I don't know how to handle being the head of the Miwa family. And I was jealous because you had all your siblings, but I know how stressed it made you, so really I just feel conflicted all the time. But still, I know you couldn't exactly share everything, but I wanted you to, even if I don't deserve it.

Bon's taking it really hard, you know. He's been working himself harder than usual, like it'll get you back faster or something. I don't know what he said in his message to you. I can't offer any sort of words for us. And I know it's dangerous, but if you could talk to us, send anything back to us, please.

Shima, I don't understand, what were you thinking—

Konekomaru stopped. There wasn't anything else he could add, anything else he could really say without pushing it. He was already pushing it. Folding the paper into thirds, Konekomaru stuffed it in an envelope, knowing that it would probably be read by the Headmaster or not at all.

By definition, humans were social creatures. The most obvious reason for this was reproduction—it took two people to create new life, so having other people around was an essential. But even more past that, people got lonely. People tended to crave communication, whether it was verbal or even text-based.

But sometimes people would desire alone time, for which the reasons varied. Most often, it would be to accomplish tasks that could be difficult to do around others, or even for a bit of self-reflection.

But not all isolation could be out of positive reasons. Sometimes it involved fear, or nervousness. Other times, people would throw themselves into isolation unintentionally, becoming so focused they would ignore everything around them. He couldn't really call himself that noble or that determined. He was just stumbling.

But he knew he wasn't really content with sitting around alone, practicality aside. Being social would be nice. Having people to talk to, even if it was fake, would be nice. Maybe actually making a connection? Getting somewhere?

He wasn't sure if it was really friendship he was looking for, but he knew he would take anything at this point.

[Author's Notes]

As you may have guessed, I'm doing my own thing with Yamantaka and the Shima family, since I started writing this before we had some of the details in the manga we do now. This whole fic is pretty much it's own AU timeline anyway, though, so I'm hoping that won't be much of an issue.

This chapter also marks the last of my daily updates in celebration of my ten-year fanfic anniversary! I'll still be updating something every Saturday, though, so keep an eye out for that! More chapters of this fic will be in the queue as we head forward into 2019, and I'm excited to share them with you and make some progress on this oversized pile of fics. Chapter 14 will be on the horizon, so please look forward to it!

-Avi

[01.04.2019]