Stronger Than Fire

By: Aviantei

Chapter Fifteen

A week and a half in, the experiments had become routine enough that Cyneric couldn't be bothered to spend any more time away from the Artificial Gehenna Gate project, leaving Renzo alone with Harper as his sole observer. Renzo couldn't really blame the other man, considering he didn't even see why they were still doing this. The usual motivation of being able to flirt with Harper sans the oppressing aura of her brother just wasn't there for him.

Normally, Renzo would have worried that something was wrong, but his excitement was just directed in other places.

"You're in a good mood," Harper noted. Renzo was still a bit blurry on his thoughts, having only been awake for about five minutes, but he could still nod enthusiastically without feeling woozy. Harper giggled. "I take it something good happened?"

"Yeah," Renzo said. Unlike her brother, Harper seemed to lack the capability to write and listen at the same time, her pencil stopping above the latest edition to the trash data pile. "I actually got Emília to agree to go on a date with me."

It was a bit of exaggeration, but the fact still remained that this afternoon he'd be spending one-hundred percent alone time with her—no work, no three-way dinners with Arlie. Apparently she had a way to remotely monitor his language app to see his progress, and while Renzo didn't feel like he'd really learned anything, Emília had been satisfied enough to give him his reward.

Harper chewed on the end of her pencil, a habit she was free to do without supervision. She claimed it was revenge for Cyneric biting his hangnails off while she wasn't looking. "For real, huh?" she said. "Heh, I guess she figured if you went on a date with her, you wouldn't want to do it again. Silly girl."

"Yup, I figured as much," Renzo chirped. To her, this was probably just a way to get him more into his work. And while it had worked, he still thought she had agreed to it too easily, even if that was just false hope. "She's not serious about me at all, and I'm not really serious about her. It just seems like fun, really, not much else."

Harper's worn down pencil nearly hit Renzo in the face. He didn't think taking his eye out would help his problem with Yamantaka or the Gehenna Gates. "Nuh-uh," she rejected, "she's super into you."

She was probably just saying that to make Renzo feel better about the situation. Still, playing along wouldn't hurt. "Why's that?" he asked, his unearned excitement fueling his halfway feigned curiosity.

"Duh, 'cause she went and dug up all that info on you," Harper said. Renzo didn't process the implications until Harper's clipboard just barely missed colliding with her nose in the girl's haste to cover her mouth. "No, no, I wasn't supposed to say that, pleasejustforgetit."

If forgetting it had been that easy, Renzo would have. But part of him was still paranoid, that what if in getting his information scanned, they had found him suspicious, enough that he had needed to go past second-in-command Micah, straight to Emília herself. Sure, Renzo had checked to see if he was tagged in any sort of data, but the first thing Emília had taught him was how to eliminate data trails…

I might have to get out, but I might not. I contact Mephisto tonight, so if I need to make a run for it, I'm sure I can. But if this is all just me being paranoid, I can't lose my position over it—

"Sorry, I can't," he told Harper, managing to sound calm if nothing else. "Please, what did she say?" The scientist looked like she was on the verge of tears, and Renzo knew he would hate himself if he let a girl cry. He switched to the part of him that would have been flattered if he wasn't a double agent. "I-I just… If you say she really likes me, what'd she look up about me?"

Harper fidgeted a bit, but finally dipped to the floor cross-legged, leveling her eyes with Renzo's. "I don't know everything, because Emí's Emí, and the only reason she told me was because she said she had told something to you." There was no point in trying to deny it; Renzo nodded. "Then if I'm going to say, I want you to say, too. Then we're even."

"She told me the circumstances that led to you and your brother joining the Illuminati." Maybe under other circumstances he would have hesitated, but Renzo couldn't afford not to know. "Just the vague details of your possession and how she met Cyneric…and that he doesn't have a Temptaint." He didn't really see the last bit as important, but Emília hadn't elaborated, so then it must have been.

Harper nodded. Part of her seemed relaxed, though she was chewing her lip. Seriously, was she still on the fence about it? "Emí told me about your contract," she whispered. "About how you got it, and where it went wrong. She thought it would help you and the Gates. And I do, too. I mean, if we can find a way to circumvent the original contract, we should be able to fix your issue, and maybe adjust the bond on the Gates."

Renzo didn't care about the Gates, or his own contract—at least, not at the moment. But he did care about one thing, and that was the best way to get to it.

"Hey," he said, wondering if this was a good idea, "if I think about it, I should be able to remember some of the wording of the contract—maybe all of it. If I…could get that for you, would you let me know if Emília says anything else?" Renzo's face felt hot, and he didn't know how to blush at will. It was probably from the intense look Harper was giving him.

"That would be awesome," she said. "Anything, even a few sentences. That'd be enough for the Tamers to analyze, maybe get something helpful off of." Refocusing on Renzo, Harper put a hand on his shoulder. "And even if you can't, I'll let you know, okay? You're good for Emí, so please take care of her."

Ah, yes, the perfect stress relief: someone else expecting things out of him.

As if he needed another heart attack in his life.

Since there was no guarantee they would have finished work at the same time, Renzo and Emília had agreed to just meet up at the nearby park—there was a hiking trail connected, which Renzo had figured would help with her "staying active" condition, plus if they were in the middle of nowhere with no one else around—and Harper had let him go to get ready early, so Renzo wasn't late. Of course, Emília was punctual as one could be to a meeting without a time, so she was already there by the time he arrived.

Renzo knew he should play it cool—laugh it off, let Harper do the work for him. But the walk had given him enough time to calm his fear and to build his anger. Being mad was something that really worse him out in the end, but for now, he had enough adrenaline to argue with her.

Standing up from a bench, Emília raised her eyebrow. Against the ground, her foot tapped, showing her desire to get moving. Still, she offered, "Wanna rest? It's kind of a long walk."

"No," Renzo said, his voice sounding more drained and subdued than he had expected. "I'm okay. I want to talk, and it shouldn't be someplace where people can overhear."

"Alright then." The lack of a jab meant she had recognized it wasn't another corny pickup line. It was just more disconcerting that she went ahead and accepted it. Renzo's insides churned from his stomach to his lungs, and Emília turned, gesturing to the trail's entrance. "The whole point of picking this place was so that we could be alone, right?"

Renzo tried to smile. Besides, it was a date—a real one and not just a joke. He should have been happy. He had years of practice acting like he was anyway. "Yeah, you're right," he said, following her lead. "Though I figured more that you'd like some privacy."

Emília didn't look impressed. "Not that you were trying to make a move?"

"Of course not!" Renzo laughed, and he was disgusted with how easily the sound came out, like it was nothing. "Come on, I know better. If I made a move, you'd take me out, favorite or not."

"You're pissing me off."

"Eh?" Renzo stopped, but Emília pressed on, forcing him to follow. He wondered if this was really a good idea considering he had spent his whole afternoon knocking himself unconscious, but it was too late to turn back. Emília set the pace, easily leaving Renzo behind. Suddenly, after a few minutes of not saying anything, Emília stopped and pivoted, nearly colliding into Renzo's chest.

"Your fake smiles are no good here," she growled, and Renzo knew the time for playing coy was over. "Don't walk up to me like you want to tear into me, then just chicken out. I know what you're like, for Christ's sake. If you have something to say but want to fake it, at least put some effort into trying to catch me off guard, Kid."

He tried to remember her being angry before but realized he couldn't do it. Sure, frustrated, even annoyed. But angry? Emília always had had such a handle over her emotions that he hadn't even considered anger as something she was capable of.

And here I am stuck on the receiving end…

Renzo inhaled, then exhaled, trying not to feel hurt by how pointed Emília's gaze was.

"I don't care that you told," he said, and somehow it was true. Who cared if back home he was some sort of screw up? The failed contract, stuck in the shadow of his elder brother… None of that mattered here, because he was an Illuminati spy and they didn't need Takezo, they needed Renzo, so who cared about that? "But if you knew you should have had the decency to let me know so I didn't tiptoe around it like an idiot."

There was a force in his words, and it made him feel powerful.

Emília only laughed, though. That's all she ever seemed to do was laugh, like she was better. She was better than him, something he couldn't even hope to achieve. "I don't want to hear it," she said, stepping closer, her face centimeters from his. "The first thing you did was research me, try to dig up anything you could. What made you think I wouldn't do the same? What makes you think people don't try that sort of shit all the time, and that's why I cover up my tracks? Your life is an open book between the Academy and Kyoto, so you have no right to complain about people digging up your data trail and not mentioning it."

She stepped back, her anger simmering down. "And if you wanted me to know that badly, you would have told me or mentioned it to Cy and Har earlier."

Brat, Renzo thought, before realizing he was one, too. "If I wanted you to know then I would have told you, don't you think?" He didn't have the energy to yell anymore, but he could still talk. "I never asked for you to go snooping into my business."

"I think you're a fool for not realizing the type of people you're dealing with—we're intelligence officers; information is our job," Emília countered, and Renzo knew she was right. "And I what I think is that you're a coward for not erasing any of your information even though I taught you how to do it. Still attached to your old life, huh?"

She was pushing him. He couldn't tell if it was over wanting to win the argument or because she was trying to see how he would react. Something cracked at those words, the final pry on his uncertainty. Renzo clenched his fists, his whole body tensing as Emília smiled at him—not as if the whole thing hadn't happened, but with perfect awareness and clarity and still emerging pleased.

"Come on, now," she said, blending cheer and taunting, "this is supposed to be your special reward. You want to ruin it with this?"

He didn't know what she was asking for—a challenge, a façade? But he had spent the entire day excited about the chance to have a real date with her, and he wasn't going to let that energy go to waste. Taking deep breaths through his nose, Renzo brought the excitement back, channeling it into what he thought was a passable smile. Going to stand beside her, he grabbed onto Emília's hand. He had been sure to be gentle, but she had jumped anyway.

Looking closer, he noticed the difference: she was tense. Becoming aware of the situation, Emília started to make her muscles relax. Renzo laughed without meaning to, squeezing her fingers lightly. "Come on," he said, and it was still too easy to joke again, to act like everything was okay. "It's just holding hands. Haven't you ever been on a date before?"

"It's different," Emília retorted, though she didn't sound as hostile as before. "It's one thing to go on a date as someone else. When I'm someone else, I know them inside and out. When I'm just Emília, I don't go on dates." Renzo frowned. She had placed that much of a distinction between herself and who she was on a mission? He didn't know if that was dedicated or insane.

Not looking at him, Emília said something else. He just barely heard the words but couldn't understand the language they were spoken in.

In the end, the date had been enough to be considered fun, but Renzo got the feeling that was because of how Emília handled herself. Before, Renzo couldn't have imagined thinking there was anything wrong with her reactions. Now, for the first time, he thought he had actually had the experience of watching her fake everything, from her smile to her goodbye.

He rolled over on his bed, making sure the tablet was securely plugged into the wall. Mephisto would be calling soon enough, and he couldn't be focusing on his pity date, concerns of what was real and what was faked aside. This was supposed to be spying, not falling for girls.

Why'd you have to slip up like that? Why couldn't you have been perfect? You could have made it seem like you were enjoying yourself, but you didn't.

Realistically, he couldn't blame her. He had been the one to handle the situation poorly, reacting with anger instead of logic. That had been his fault and no one else's. If Emília hadn't felt like giving him a good date, she had every right. It's not like that had been part of the reward deal anyway.

Renzo's phone rang, and he flipped it open only to hear the sharp crack! of a popper, followed by several out of tune party favors. The phone was dropped to the floor, subsequently buried under a small pile of letters that had seemingly materialized like oversized confetti.

"Did I overdo it?" the Headmaster asked as Renzo lifted the phone to his ear. Renzo wondered if the demon's magic made it possible to see expressions through phone lines; he had one hell of a grimace to share at the moment. "I just wanted to let you celebrate—these are gifts from your classmates after all."

Renzo frowned, picking up one of the letters and flipping it over. Okumura's atrocious handwriting adorned the paper, and there was a chance it wasn't even legible. Looking them over, it seemed like Shiemi's was the largest—he could see her getting too caught up and just writing down whatever she thought—and even Takara had included a small note. Anything containing Bon's handwriting was completely missing, and it looked like Izumo had nearly ripped holes in the paper with her pencil she had written with such force.

"This is pretty risky," he said, gathering up the envelopes. "What if someone goes through my stuff? Just because I have one person on my side, that doesn't mean everyone couldn't be suspicious." At this point, he wasn't even sure if Emília was on his side. The smartest thing to do would be to read the pile and burn them up somewhere—or just make Mephisto take them back.

"Do you have reason to think that you're compromised right now?" The Headmaster didn't sound very concerned about that idea.

Renzo thought it over. Todo's words had just implied that there might be suspicions of an unfound spy. It could have been a ruse, but it also could hold true. His words also implied that the suspected leak might have been in the Intelligence Department. Nikita was looking into the situation, more concerned with the actions of the higher-ups. And Emília…

Renzo forced himself to focus on concrete facts. She had taken him on a date as a reward for his work. She had taken him under his wing. She had gotten into a fight with him, calling him out for his naiveté. But when the prospect of there being a spy had arose, she hadn't even looked on him right away—not in a way to share thoughts or show suspicion.

"No," Renzo said, and he was sure of it. If Emília didn't suspect him, there was no need to worry. "Things are getting a bit uptight around here, but there's nothing to worry about. I'll reestablish your data connection, just to keep you up to date." Picking up his idle tablet, Renzo activated his backdoor access, a chibi version of the Headmaster on the screen indicating that the connection was a success.

"Alright. Things seem to be doing well, then. Anything big to report?"

"No major breakthroughs that are cause for an emergency. There are no major plans for going after the True Cross in the near future, but I'll let you know if those plans change." His eyes drifting back to the pile of letters, Renzo sighed. "Do I want to know what everyone else is thinking with these?"

"Yes, that," the Headmaster said. "They made a big show of bursting into my office two weeks ago, insisting to know how you were and to be able to make contact with you. I've been thinking of ways to get their minds occupied, but I figured letting messages through would be a good first step in sedating them. Anything you want to share so they don't think I'm shirking on my promise?"

Yeah, that sounded about right. Honestly, those guys were making this whole thing difficult. "Well, I'm not going to read them all now and write out answers." They would have to wait for something like that, if he ever decided to take the risk. He didn't want to thank them, either, since it was more of a nuisance than anything. "But if you could ask Bon and Konekomaru to look into the Shima Family's contract at Kyoto, that could save me some trouble."

"Ah, circumventing the contract then?" Mephisto asked, and Renzo felt his stomach kick—having people know just made him feel ridiculous. "I'd say that sounds like a pretty worthwhile achievement. Though why not ask Yamantaka himself?"

Renzo only laughed, feeling just as hollow as before. "If that sort of thing worked, I would have tried it a long time ago."

Anger had always seemed like something internal. It could only be generated from him, and not be able to reach out otherwise. In retrospect, it was a pretty self-centered viewpoint, but Renzo couldn't care about that. In all honesty, he couldn't understand other people, so thinking they could generate the same feeling as him seemed ridiculous.

Ikari.

Daikirai.

Except the real issue was, then, that he had no idea how to handle those feelings coming off of others. He watched other people get angry without realizing they were angry and dismissed that sort of thing as too much hard work. But with those sorts of feelings getting directed at him…

Bon as he left.

Izumo as he taunted her, dismissed her familiars for dead.

Emília as she called him out on what he really was.

They had taken their feelings out on him with no reservations. They had to hate him, then. If that was how you were supposed to be when you hated something, when you despised it, to unleash all that pent up anger on them…

He could call it too much work, but Renzo didn't think he hated people enough to actually make them deal with it.

[Author's Notes]

What happens when you put two people together who are constantly hiding from their real feelings? This fic, apparently.

Thanks to SakuraKoi for the fav and follow! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story, but I'm also just glad to see your support! Hopefully the rest of the story is worth it.

Looking at this chapter, we're ready to bleed out of the experimentation arc and into the next one. What will happen next? You'll see hints of what's coming in the next update, so please look forward to it!

-Avi

[10.21.2019]