A/N: Oh crap, this is Chapter 35 isn't it? I need to finally finish Ch 39. If I don't finish it by the 24th, then... well, Ch 37 is the end of the Ooyama weekend anyway, so we'll take a short break. But I've had too much fun with 38 & 39 to keep you guys waiting very long, so you might not have to worry about that! Thanks for the new review and follow, btw. ZainR, glad you enjoyed! And I refuse to straight up debunk any fic theories! Keep 'em close no matter how many holes I poke in them to keep you on your toes. :D I credit Yui Hideki's NaYuri AMVs for the shadow parallel epiphany. Yeah, that's what I think Angel Player was for - defense. Kanade never cared about power. That's something I really liked about her character. But more on that later!
Before I get into this chapter, a quick spoiler warning for OUAT episodes 1x08, 2x04, and 2x14! Mostly summary so it's not too long, but still, beware if you care.
For old time's sake, a disclaimer: All Angel Beats characters belong to Jun Maeda. All OUAT characters belong to ABC or Adam and Eddy. Basically if you recognize a name, I don't own them. (Except for one Western-ish name who is 100% a made-up celebrity idk what you're talking about.) Also the game briefly mentioned in this may sound like a certain party game but I assure you it's... the Angel Beats version! Key Cards vs. Society. Yeah.
Enjoy!
[Chapter 35]: Evening Enlightenment
The reunion day continued in the wonderfully lazy way it usually did.
Yui played music. Kanade tried to play as well. She wasn't even terrible at it, he would give her that. Yui bragged about being an excellent tutor and having given her lessons back in Shibuya. After ten or fifteen minutes, Kanade admitted sheepishly that she was a better pianist. She'd spent a lot of the time in her previous life staying inside her house and practicing at the piano when her heart was weak and she didn't have any friends to play with.
Ayato had frowned upon hearing this. It sounded familiar to him, and yet he didn't remember her ever telling him about it. Glancing over at Yuri for some reason, he found that she had a similar reaction.
In the height of his joy to be with everyone, Ooyama scarfed down half the bag of potato chips in fifteen minutes, which Ayato found oddly impressive.
"Whoa, slow down!" Fujimaki warned with a laugh. "This isn't Operation High Tension Syndrome – remember how that worked out for you?"
Ooyama glared exaggeratedly at him in mid-handful. "You're kicked out already! I have a zero-tolerance policy on backtalk."
"What! Oh come on, I—" Fujimaki stopped his potential freak-out when the corner of Ooyama's mouth twitched. "Wait, was that a joke?" He punched Ooyama's shoulder as soon as he broke into a smile, locking him in for yet another noogie. "Oh, okay, Funny Boy here has jokes!"
"Hey, let go!" Ooyama yelped, still grinning.
"Nope! I don't have any place else to go, ya know, my roommate just kicked me out—" Fujimaki looked up when he noticed Hinata's pronounced wild gesturing at him from behind the kitchen pass-through. "What?"
"Nothing," said Otonashi, who was standing in the kitchen across from him. Hinata made some weird indignant noises, and Otonashi rolled his eyes as he walked past him with Kanade's drink in hand. "Okay, Hinata…!"
Meanwhile, Yuri spent a fair amount of time lounging on the couch with Kanade and Matsushita. Semi-paying attention to episodes of Kamisama Suzuko but possibly using it for the background noise. She'd actually called Ayato into the room when it came on ("I bet you'd love this, Naoi, it's an anime about a human who calls herself a god"). And, well, he personally used to enjoy the manga in high school, so that was an interesting throwback. Did she even remember buying copies of it, if not for him?
He'd also corrected her smugly that the human was a god and deserved to be honored as such. She just yawned at him and turned up the volume.
Later, Otonashi made an amused sound as he came by to give Kanade the orange peach juice she'd requested.
"You still look like you could use some coffee," he laughed. Yuri grumbled unhappily and tried to peek around him at the TV while Kanade gave him an affectionate forehead bump of thanks.
Ayato had feigned sympathy from the corner. "That's too bad," he tsked. "I'd make you a cup, but two weeks ago I mysteriously ran out of stock."
Yuri looked at him briefly and scoffed. "Whatever," she said, shooing the air dismissively. "You don't even drink the stuff, anyway, you only bought it for me."
She'd frowned then, and so had he, realizing what was said and also unspoken there.
"And Otonashi," he corrected.
"Right," said Yuri, as her face cleared. "And Otonashi."
"And Otonashi," Shiina parroted from the floor, sounding skeptical while she petted the dog in her lap. "And yet you didn't restock."
Ayato eyed her reproachfully, leaning more firmly against the corner wall. Ah, Shiina… a woman of few words but always making her input so meaningful.
Now he was glad he stole her spot.
Speaking of spots, Matsushita the Fifth kindly offered his own when there was no room for Otonashi to sit down next to his wife and watch the show. Kanade, interestingly enough, offered up a different solution. Now Otonashi was blushing a shade of red that clashed with his hair as Kanade blissfully claimed a seat on her husband's lap. Ayato wasn't even certain the girl didn't know what she was doing – at one point she was actually nuzzling his neck. He wondered very seriously if it was the two of them he'd have to have a talk with about room-renting courtesy.
Though… he had to say, it was an interesting change of pace from a couple of weeks before. She'd been so tired – not like Yuri here, but in a way that made him wonder if she might be ill. Judging by her energy levels now, she clearly wasn't. And truth be told he was glad about that.
He'd seen a friend become frail, ill, and tired before. He'd heard another friend's heart break over the phone month by month as he lost her. That wasn't something he wanted for Kanade and Otonashi.
It would never turn out the same way, he knew, but thinking of such things put a sour twist on a decent afternoon. The past was the past, and this was Mizuzaka. And somehow, when he looked at the Otonashis, he could only see happiness ahead of them.
Lunch came and went. Hinata, Ooyama, and Matsushita raided his fridge and shared old and new stories. His mother called; Yuri took the phone from his grasp a few seconds into the conversation. She got up and left with it, but not before sticking her tongue out at him. As she disappeared into the study, gabbing away, he glared after her and her renewed energy.
How annoying! His mother's Kimito-free time was precious and in short supply – how dare she hog her phone calls like that!
Ooyama had looked at Yuri a little oddly for it, so he felt validated. Then Yuri eventually came back around and handed the phone off to him with a shameless "here, I guess your mom wants to talk to you" so he harrumphed in mild suspicion (imagine that) but took her back. Luckily his mother's laughter didn't eat into too much more of their talking time.
They managed five minutes or so before she lowered her voice and noted Kimito's presence outside the front door. His rushed "I love you, stay safe" before he hung up drew very keen interest from Matsushita and Ooyama.
"What?" he demanded, glaring under his cap at the two onlookers. His eyes briefly flickered red.
"Nothing!" they said in unison, twin beatific smiles on their faces.
Ayato frowned some more.
The day went on. Hinata dragged him into a fill-in-the-blanks card game with Otonashi, Ooyama, Fujimaki, and Shiina. Her answers were usually horribly dark, while Ooyama's were innocent and generic (a stark contrast he found amusing). Kanade went out for a bit and came back with a bag of coffee, which she brewed for Yuri as they chatted in the kitchen.
Yui played more music. Matsushita danced to it by the window – and when asked, told Yui he was summoning TK for next time. Almost got one of Ayato's DVD cases thrown at him in rage. Mitsuo got too overstimulated by it all and peed on the carpet.
Squawking an apology, Ooyama insisted on breaking away from the game to clean it up.
"Stain removers and cleaning products are in the hall closet next to the bathroom," Ayato said, resigned. He pointed a finger, not looking up from his cards but still absently learning his lesson from last time. "First door on the left."
Ooyama quickly jumped up and headed towards the hall. The others put up their card offerings (Fujimaki put in Ooyama's for him).
"Starved, lust-filled piranhas."
"My lonely old Grandma – that's Ooyama's."
"Big, stupid jellyfish."
Hinata and Fujimaki looked expectantly to Shiina, who revealed her card with a shrug.
"Dan S…nayder?" Otonashi read with a frown.
"What's a Dan Snayder?" Ayato asked, squinting. Shiina just shrugged again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could vaguely see Ooyama at the hall closet reaching on his tiptoes for something.
Yuri poked her head out from the pass-through, immensely curious. "Wait, what was the main card asking again?"
Hinata picked it up to check. "Uh… 'What's the worst thing that could see your feet?'"
Puzzled, the boys opened their mouths at the same time to question Shiina further. But then there was a clumsy fumbling sound in the hall and a yelp of dismay from Ooyama as something slid off its shelf, smacking against his head before tumbling to the ground. The boy whined feebly in a flutter of pictures and debris.
Ayato groaned, sliding a hand down his face. "You've got to be kidding me." Not this again!
"Sorry!" Ooyama sputtered, throwing him a sheepish grimace as he dropped to the floor in the pile of pictures. "Completely my bad! I'll just clean this up too, don't worry about it—"
As he rambled his apologies, Ayato couldn't help thinking that the boy (in his twenties, still a boy) was lucky there wasn't any shattered picture frame glass in that shoebox. They'd avoided quite a disaster in that regard. Worst thing Ooyama could do now was cut his finger on one of the photos in his haste to—
Ooyama screamed at the top of his lungs.
Ayato closed his eyes, already tired. "Papercut?" he asked hopefully.
The boy flew back to the group, waving fistfuls of photographs wildly in the air. His face was bright red and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. A few of the pictures escaped his grip in his rapid flailing, falling into the middle of the group.
"I KNEW IT!" he hollered. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?! As one of the earliest members of Battlefront, I deserve to know when our leader has chosen a suitor!"
"Oh, God!" Yuri said in distress, chugging her drink and turning to Kanade pleadingly for a refill. "I don't have the energy for this!"
His sentiments exactly. One picture had dropped dead center among the other cards – the one from just around graduation, where Yuri was smiling at her camera while Ayato kissed the side of her head. They hadn't been together at the time, but they were both consciously in love (and it showed). Intrigued, Hinata reached for the picture but Ayato smacked his hand and stole it back. Hinata rubbed his wrist, looking cowed.
"What's the meaning of this, Naoi?" Ooyama demanded, waving more pictures around and sternly pointing at him. "What are your intentions towards Yurippe?"
Fujimaki broke into a broad grin, leaning forward expectantly. "Yeah, Naoi, what are your intentions?"
"He has none!" Yuri cut in sharply. "Shut up, get back to your game! Go clean up dog pee!"
"Thank you," muttered Ayato, rubbing at his temples. Ooyama was exempt from hypnotism since today was his reunion day, but Fujimaki was still a prime candidate for ceiling fan status. "We're not together anymore and neither of us want to talk about it, so drop it." He added, with a sigh, "Do we have to have this conversation every time we find a new person?"
Otonashi chuckled sympathetically.
"If only you guys could just do a mass announcement and be done with it," he said, smiling up at Yuri. "Like," he paused to do his gravelly impression voice, "Naoi and I are divorced and going through the complications of a magic forgetting potion! All further questions will be punished with a penalty game!"
"I like the sound of that…"
"Don't give her ideas!" Hinata scolded Otonashi, wide-eyed and shaking him by the shoulder.
Meanwhile, Ooyama still looked confused. "Magic forgetting po—?"
Fujimaki stood up and clapped a hand over Ooyama's mouth, eyeing Yuri warily for a moment. "You know what, I'll tell you about it later," he said with an easy grin, walking him back to the mess at the closet. "It's a captivating tale of heartbreak, betrayal, and endless longing."
"Flying soup ladle," said Shiina.
Fujimaki turned to look over his shoulder. "What, are you guys playing without us—"
THUNK.
He grunted in pain and nursed his injured forehead, with Ooyama making fretful sounds behind him. Ayato side-eyed the kitchen pass-through for a second, then turned back to the card game with a satisfied smirk.
Fujimaki and Ooyama left early that evening, right after dinner. The former joked that he was taking him out somewhere fun since the others had so rudely put off the restaurant tradition, but Ooyama insisted he just wanted to help Fujimaki get his stuff out of the hotel so he didn't have to pay for another night there.
"It's already paid for," Fujimaki reminded him.
"Well, better to get it out of the way now so you're not rushing in the morning," Ooyama said considerately. "Are you going to stay the last night there? Mitsuo would miss you."
"Aw!" Fujimaki had ruffled his hair affectionately as they walked out the front door. "Oh c'mon, say what you really mean."
Shiina had been sad to see them go, but Yui, Otonashi, and Hinata managed to lure her back into the TV room with some macabre show about war history. Ayato personally found it a little creepy when once in a while she interrupted in a deadpan voice to correct misinformation. How old was her soul, really…
Next to go was Yuri, about an hour later. The announcement was met with multiple jeers of protest as she went to pick up her purse (a moment of unpleasant déjà vu for Ayato, although he'd never admit it).
"Yurippe, it's still early!" Matsushita the Fifth complained.
"Not for Ryou," said Yuri, slinging the strap of her purse over her arm. She fished through a pocket for her keys and didn't zip it back up all the way, which amused Ayato for some petty reason. "I don't want to be rude and keep her waiting up too late. She's a bit of a worrier."
He snorted at the understatement, which earned him a brief withering look.
"Then call her and say you're staying over," Hinata prompted her. "You know, this is still kind of your house."
"It most certainly is not," Ayato said adamantly. It had stopped being her house the night she left, cemented when she sent Ryou and Sunohara to retrieve the rest of her things. Catching the dirty looks Otonashi and Hinata sent him, he added with some reluctance, "But, you are welcome to stay tonight…"
Yuri side-eyed him doubtfully from the edge of the entry hall, as if sensing his bluff.
"Thanks," she said, with a frosty edge to her tone. "But I think I'd rather keep my promise to Ryou. Some of my stuff is there, anyway. And she could use some girl time since her sister has been getting pretty serious with her boyfriend." She scoffed then, on Ryou's behalf. "All she ever hears is 'Kiritsugu this, Kiritsugu that!' I swear, I never thought Kyou would put her sister second. Why would anyone screw up their priorities in life all for the sake of a relationship?"
Well, that sounded just as familiar as it was ironic. Before he could help himself, Ayato gave a rich derisive snort.
"Okay, Hisakawa," he said.
Yuri whipped her head around to stare at him in shock. Wide-eyed bewilderment quickly gave way in favor of a fierce, frustrated glower and clenched fists.
"You—" she cut herself off with a choked sound of flustered anger. "God, shut up!"
With that, she stormed down the hall just as determinedly as she had seven months before. Meanwhile something had fluttered out of her unzipped purse and onto the carpet without her knowing, which pleased him more.
"Goodnight to you too, Nakamura!" he called to her. The front door slammed shut with a vengeance.
"Your flirting skills are phenomenal," said Hinata.
"Wasn't flirting," he replied curtly, watching Kanade get up and inspect whatever had fallen from Yuri's purse. She looked at it for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen, presumably to put it in her own bag.
"Who's Hisakawa again?" Matsushita the Fifth asked, not looking up from writing a text.
Ayato lowered the rim of his cap, taking a moment to bask in having gotten the last word with her like that.
"Not important. Just her least favorite person," he answered, settling into the couch cushions. "Someone who believes love can be burdensome, or an obstacle to avoid."
"That's so sad," Yui said with a frown, sparing a glance over her shoulder at him from her spot on the floor. She looked vaguely confused at the notion as she turned back around and leaned her head against Hinata's shoulder. "Love's basically the most freeing thing there is."
Hinata turned to look at her, a teasing fondness in his eyes. "You know, you can actually be pretty cute sometimes."
Yui peered up at him, returning his grin. "Well, I should hope so!" she said loftily.
But in Ayato's opinion, as he quietly scoffed at their blatant flirting, he wondered if Yui had just read too many fairytales. He continued to ruminate over this late into the evening, long after the spare futon had been retrieved and everyone had gone upstairs to turn in for the night.
Because Hisakawa… she might have actually been onto something there.
If it weren't for love, he wouldn't be lying in the darkness and staring up at the ceiling with no relief. Unable to sleep while memories of certain pivotal experiences on this couch plagued his mind. Waking up in the morning with Yuri in his arms. Emerging from a shadow nightmare. And of course, not to forget, the disastrous post-concert "reunion" from which the dream stemmed.
But Yuri wasn't here tonight. He had the couch all to himself, to twist and turn restlessly under the blankets. To attack his own face with the pillow.
It was the consequences of love, deceptive or not, that kept forcing Yuri to seek shelter with Ryou. Because otherwise she would be condemned to sleep down here with him, while Otonashi, Kanade, and Matsushita claimed his room and Hinata, Yui, and Shiina took the guestroom. She would've had to share the couch, or sleep on a futon but still have to be alone in the same room with him.
No, wait. Matsushita the Fifth could have easily been the one to sleep down here. Then she could have shared a room with Otonashi and Kanade, and—
Hold on, why was he thinking so hard about this? If she didn't want to stay under the same roof with him, then so be it! It was nothing to lose sleep over. Never mind that crazy wench, that NPC, that… that…
He groaned under his breath, letting his arm drape lifelessly over the edge of the couch. His fingertips brushed against something solid, and he opened his eyes as he felt around at a corner. Curling his fingers over the edge, he pulled Once Upon A Time from its hiding place.
Oh, good, he thought sarcastically. A bedtime story.
Might as well…
With a resigned sigh, he turned on a corner light and brought the book into his lap. He cracked the book open and turned to a table of contents, using his finger to skim along the titles. "The Shepherd" was fairly far down the first page's list, which made sense seeing as last time he'd opened to the middle of the book. Why had he done that when he was searching for backstory? Such a cartoonish mistake.
Sure enough, one of the earliest chapters was called "Rumple and the Seer." He skipped through a sliver of pages until he came to an illustration of a happy-looking human Rumpelstiltskin. An ordinary peasant man, gazing into the eyes of a concerned dark-haired woman as he gripped her hands tightly. Underneath, the caption read: "I've lived under the shadow of my father's actions for too long now."
Ayato scowled, ready to close the book again. But… this must have been what Yui was talking about when she told him to "know thine enemy." So, with a furrowed brow, he started to read.
It began simply enough. There was a brutal war going on—against ogres no less—and Rumpelstiltskin told his wife Milah with a peculiar elation that he had been drafted to fight. Milah was reluctant to hear the news at first ("Just because your father was a coward doesn't mean you are"), but she let him go with her blessing, tearfully vowing that when he returned, they'd start living the life they'd always wanted for themselves. With a family of their own.
While serving at the front, another soldier tasked him with guarding a mysterious crate. Inside was a prisoner who could help them win against the ogres. Before he left, he warned Rumple to beware of the "tricky beast." But then a child's voice called his name, so his curiosity got the better of him and he lifted the tarp. A small girl sat inside the bars, with messy orange curls and clumsy stitching where her eyes should have been. Instead, her eyes rested in her palms – she was a Seer.
"Rumpelstiltskin, the son of a coward. Raised by spinsters. Scared of ending up just like his father," she mused. "I see all, even what has yet to pass."
At first he refused to be tempted by her knowledge of the future, denouncing her dark magic. Until he heard Milah's name. He offered the water she asked for; in return, she gave him the truth: "She is already with child. Your wife will bear you a son, but your actions on the battlefield tomorrow will leave him fatherless."
Plagued with fear, he refused to believe or help her any longer, as she must've been trying to scare him into deserting. Even her warning was preposterous ("Tomorrow, when you see the army ride cows into battle, you will know I speak the truth"). He continued to serve for another day. But it did indeed come to pass that the soldiers had leather saddles for their horses ("cows," they called them). So Rumple did the only thing he could think of to save himself from orphaning his son – he broke his leg with a sledgehammer and hobbled all the way home.
He found Milah lovingly cradling their newborn in her arms when he arrived. Baelfire, she'd named him. A strong name. ("Something he'll need, if he's to live with the shame of being your son"). She was deeply disappointed to see him. Rumors had spread very quickly from the front that he had injured himself and deserted the war. Everyone was talking about it – how he'd left because he was afraid.
"You became what everyone thought you were," Milah hissed through her teeth. "A coward. Just like your father!"
But Rumpelstiltskin knew he was nothing like his father. He would never try to abandon his son – that was the true reason he left. To save him from growing up without a father. After Milah handed Baelfire off to him and stormed out in disgust, he promised his child he would never leave him.
Ayato had to pause at the end of that story. Was this even the same man? The Rumpelstiltskin he'd met was a sick fool, a cruel impish bastard whom he couldn't imagine loving anything more than chaos, let alone a son.
In fact, he pitied this Baelfire kid, whoever and wherever the boy was now. He knew Rumpelstiltskin's type. He had been raised by a man like him. By hissed words and cold eyes and a strong, powerful grip.
But… when and how had this man changed so drastically?
Ayato's suspended belief continued to tilt and weave through the next tale. These were interesting reads, he'd give them that. But he still had a hard time believing these men were one and the same. The Rumpelstiltskin he was reading about was just so… pitiful.
For one thing, his wife started going out to a tavern and drinking with other men. Pirates, as it turned out, who took her away onto their ship by order of a Captain Killian Jones. Rumple came to the ship, stammering and pleading for them to return Milah to him and their son. Jones mocked him, then threw him a sword and challenged him to take her back. Rumple trembled but did not pick up the weapon.
The pirate lifted his own blade to Rumple's cheek. "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets."
"Please sir," he whimpered, shaking as he clutched his walking stick. "What am I going to tell my boy?"
"Try the truth. His father's a coward."
At this point, when Ayato came upon the story "The Dark One's Dagger," he was fairly sure the titular Dark One was yet another antagonist to make this man snivel and cry.
It took place in the Ogre's War again, or still. Children as young as fourteen were being dragged off to fight in it. If their parents dared intervene, a hooded figure known as the Dark One used a mysterious invisible force to control them, strangling them until they were subdued. As Baelfire's birthday drew near, he and Rumple grew fearful. Two days before he was to turn fourteen, Rumple woke his slumbering son and they snuck out into the night.
Although Baelfire felt uncertain that running away was the right thing to do, Rumple warned him of the terrors of war. He was the only one he had left, so Rumple wanted only goodness and a long life for his son. And so they went on their way, stopping only to offer a beggar some coins.
They didn't get far on the King's realm before the Duke's soldiers cut off their escape. Despite Rumple's orders to hide, Baelfire stood up for his father as the guard Hordor and his men mocked him.
"Rumple?" said Hordor. "Ah, the man who ran. Is this your boy? How old is he? What's your name?"
Baelfire looked the guard straight in the eye. "I'm Baelfire and I'm thirteen."
"When's your birthday?"
"In two days' time."
"Hush, boy!" Rumple warned him.
"Did you teach him how to run as well, Rumpelstiltskin?" Hordor asked. He looked to Baelfire, lowering his voice to a disparaging hiss. "Did he tell you? Did he tell you how he ran and the ogres turned the tide of the battle, and all the others were killed, and he returned home to a wife who could not bear the sight of him?
Rumple lowered his eyes shamefully, gripping his walking stick. "Please…"
"You see, women do not like to be married to cowards…"
"Please don't speak to my boy like that," Rumple said, weeping.
"It's treason to avoid service." Hordor turned back to his horse. "Take the boy now."
"No, no, no, no! What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Shaking his head, the guard stared at him as if he were a piece of filth. "You have no money, no influence, no land, no title, no power. The truth is, all you really have is fealty. Kiss my boot."
Rumple looked at his son standing next to him. He couldn't. He couldn't let him see that. "I don't understand-"
"You asked my price," Hordor said firmly. "Kiss my boot."
"Not in front of my boy," Rumple pleaded.
"Kiss my boot!"
Rumple dropped his walking stick, fell on his knees, and shamefully obeyed. The men broke into laughter – and to add injury to insult, Hordor kicked him hard in the ribs. As the men rode off and Baelfire worriedly tended to his father, the beggar from earlier hurried over to help, kindly offering to take him home. He wanted no money from them in return ("You just feed me whatever you can spare, and I'll find a way to be your benefactor.")
Inside their hut as Baelfire slept, they shared a hot meal as the old man listened to his fears and warned him not to run. Told him he must find another way. But Rumple didn't believe he had a choice in any of this. Friendless and hobble-footed, the only thing he had was Baelfire. If he lost him to the war, he would truly become dust.
"Not if you have power," the old man told him.
The Duke of the Frontlands, he revealed, had the all-powerful Dark One in thrall. There was a mystical dagger that the Duke possessed, one that enslaved the Dark One. If Rumple could steal it, he would be the one to control him. Who would dare take Baelfire away if Rumple had the Dark One's power to stop them?
"What? To keep a man like the Dark One as a slave?" said Rumple. All it would take was just one mistake, and then the Dark One could wreak a horrible revenge on both him and his son. "No, I can't. I'd be terrified."
"Then perhaps, instead of controlling the power," the old man considered, "you need to take it."
And so with the old man's advice, Rumple and Baelfire fashioned torches out of wool soaked in sheep's fat, which Rumple would use to burn the Duke's castle. He raved joyfully to his son at the possibilities of owning that dagger. ("Could you imagine me with those powers? I could get to redeem myself. I could turn it towards good. I'll save all the children of the Frontlands.") Though Baelfire said he could fight, Rumple did not want the skies to stain so red with the blood of children.
Baelfire was disappointed when he realized Rumple had indeed run from battle – but still he helped his father. They set the castle's rafters and floorboards ablaze, then Rumple snuck in during the fire and took the dagger. Once safe in the forest, he told a worried Baelfire to go home. Summoning the Dark One was not something he could do in front of his son.
The Dark One, Zoso, came as he was called. But he began to taunt him, warning him that Hordor and his men would be coming for Baelfire soon.
"Have you ever wondered – was he really your child at all?" Zoso asked, his gravelly voice dripping with scorn. "Unlike you, he's not a coward and yearns to fight and die in glory. What a poor bargain that would be – to lay down your soul to save your bastard son. So, I ask you – what would you have me do?"
Rumple made his choice. "Die," he said. He plunged the dagger into his chest and fell to the ground with him. Then he looked into the face of the Dark One.
The beggar laughed up at him.
"My life was such a burden," he warned him. "You'll see. Magic always comes with a price and now, it's yours to pay."
As the old man died, the skin on Rumple's hand turned to scales. And the blade of the dagger changed to read the name Rumpelstiltskin. He was the Dark One now, filled with all of that power. There was only one thing to do with it.
Back at Rumpelstiltskin's village, Hordor and his men had Baelfire in their custody when the new Dark One appeared to them. Hordor knelt in reverence, but froze in fear when he slowly came to recognize him. Not as any of his prized nicknames, not as Spindleshanks or Hobblefoot. "Rumpelstiltskin," said Hordor.
"Wonderful. Now, you shall know me as the new Dark One," he commanded. "How about a little fealty? Kiss. My. Boot."
Hordor bent to obey – and Rumpelstiltskin promptly snapped his neck, then used the dagger to kill every single soldier there. Baelfire watched in horror at all the bloodshed.
"Papa," he said fearfully. "What has happened to you?"
"You're safe, Bae," said Rumpelstiltskin, approaching him with the bloody dagger. "Do you feel safe, son?"
Baelfire backed away from his father. "No. I'm frightened."
"I'm not. I protected what belongs to me." Rumpelstiltskin broke into a smile. "And I'm not scared of anything."
Ayato closed the book upon finishing that story, more than a little enlightened. And very much disturbed.
Yes, that definitely sounded more like the Rumpelstiltskin he'd encountered at the bridge. But the last scene… Masayo Kitamura had let her young daughter read that sort of thing? He'd known fairytales could be gruesome, but this was quite a variation.
And then, considering the imp's existence, the things in this book were supposed to be real. Talk of Dark Ones, ogres, mystical daggers… Not in this world. Except in the case of this Rumpelstiltskin person. He snorted under his breath – the Dark One, what a title!
That dagger, was it real too? Did he keep it on his person along with the many other keepsakes he stole?
No, Ayato supposed not. It was probably hidden somewhere in whatever world he came from. Perhaps Ayato could buy that, the concept of other worlds. He himself had existed in an Afterlife world that others would not think was possible. A strange world with its own magical properties and mystical objects. Complex computer software, shadow demons, river monsters, evil clones, hypnotism…
In his sleepy, fantasy-tinged haze, he played with the idea of finding the dagger. Using it to get back the things he'd taken, and to make sure the imp never bothered any of the Battlefront members again. The triumph he'd feel would be cathartic, especially after Rumpelstiltskin had punished his hypnotism attempt so violently. To wield that kind of power, even stronger than his hypnotism… it would...
"Angel Player doesn't matter to me... I don't need it anymore."
"You don't want the power?"
"There are more important things."
Ayato blinked tiredly at the gentle, airy voice that had gotten inside his head. He remembered Kanade as she once was, sharp blades materializing from computer data underneath her sleeves. Majestic wings sprouting from her shoulders. Power exploding from her like a bomb of blue and silver sparkles.
Angel Player had given her all that and more. It could heal her instantaneously, give her a shield of distortion, even knock people out with a horrid wail… but she didn't want it.
And furthermore, finding such a thing was as preposterous as finding the dagger. And just as unnecessary.
He didn't want the dagger. Looking for it just sounded like a whole other grand adventure, a tiresome one at that, one that would inevitably be just a wild goose chase. There were other things to learn, other weaknesses. His son being one of them.
As twisted as he was, even the "Dark One" loved his own son. Ayato harrumphed quietly as he slid the book underneath the couch again, then turned off the light and plunged the room into blackness. What was that like?
Really, what was it like having a father with all that power and darkness inside of him? The power to command, shed blood, and make others kneel in fear, all so he could protect his legacy?
Ayato could certainly take a guess.
The memories of his own past twisted at his gut. If the darkness had taken Rumpelstiltskin this much, hopefully Baelfire no longer had to deal with it. Staying with a man like him was a hopeless life that could only bring misery and pain. Speaking from experience…
If there was anything just as cathartic as unnatural power, it was freedom. Distance. Getting away from all that and starting fresh.
He closed his eyes with a tired sigh. Perhaps Yuri would agree with him there.
But forget those things for now. Fathers, sons, past miseries, the dagger (which he was sure Rumple had experience guarding from thieves at this point). He would forget the dagger as Kanade had forgotten Angel Player. As he had forgotten almost everything in Akuma. As Yuri had forgotten him.
Forget all that.
As Kanade said, there were more important things. Like the Battlefront operation at hand.
Yawning, Ayato buried his head into the pillow, ignoring the smell of coffee and pomegranates that lingered in the fabric. If he ever needed to deal with this Dark One, he would do as Zoso had said in the story.
He'd find another way.
A/N: Whoo, that last part was hard to write. So much unsaid. But Naoi was bound to find out about the dagger, and I knew if he didn't want it just a little bit then that would be just the plottiest of plot-holes. But now you all know about Baelfire, so with that in mind I'll just dust off my hands here and leave you with a preview of a thankfully much shorter chapter.
Until next Saturday!
Preview:
"You almost gave me a heart attack!"
"Hinata wasn't going to stop her."
"What was he like, anyway?"
"I really thought I'd never meet a bigger idiot."
"She'll be here."
"Down, boy!"
"You all don't mind, right?"
[Chapter 36]: He Ain't Heavy.
