"What is that expression on your face, Ise-kun?"
Kiba's hand reached up to his own face, twisting his thumbs into his lips, and tugging the corners downward, narrowing his eyes and making his nose seem thinner. The indexes touched in the center of the stretched lips, and slowly traced the curve of his new expression.
"What is this expression, Ise-kun?" He slid his thumbs off his lips, letting the frown snap back into his usual tight smile. "Is something wrong?"
Issei wondered if the wry expression on his face looked so bothersome to Kiba. "I'm fine." Issei informed Kiba, refusing to make eye contact. Issei hefted the bin a bit, slowing his walk, and turning a bit to watch Motohama and Matusda begin hauling entire server racks off their shelves to dust them.
They waved him off rudely. Issei's brow twitched, but he turned around with a huff. "Let's just move quickly." He grumbled, bin rattling as he hefted it onto his knee. Some of the loose stuff rattled as he moved slowly down the corridor, praying to god that Sona would 'happen' to round the corner at that exact moment, like she had every other time they hadn't wanted her around. Prez had the nasty habit of popping up at the worst times; this had been some of the most warning they'd ever got. Last time she'd implied some truly appalling consequences for indulging during class hours again. Fortunately, their AV room of choice was in a disused part of the building, so noise carried.
He blinked away the motes of dust falling like snow in the emptier parts of the building, allowing Kiba to keep pace with him. The sun shot through the windows like solid beams, propping the shimmering windows up as shadows began to yawn across the crossways. Their footsteps echoed, bouncing off the walls. The two boys even found themselves stifling even their breath, so silent were the hallways.
And yet, eventually the silence broke.
"What sort of person was he, Ise-kun?" Kiba asked softly.
Issei's heart briefly stuttered, and he whipped around to look at the stoic boy. "What?" He searched Kiba's face for some kind of accusation, but it remained placid. And yet, they both understood that it was more than a simple question.
"What did you think of him?" Kiba repeated.
Issei opened his mouth to ask any of several exceedingly pointed and justifiably accusatory questions, but slowly changed his mind. The sight of that ghoulish man revelling in man-made chaos was one he'd be forgetting about any time soon, and perhaps...he owed it to a girl. To at least try, even if he himself couldn't. It wasn't particularly cool, but he could own that if she was safe.
"Terrifying." Issei said slowly. And they both understood who was being spoken of.
"That corresponds to the rumors I have heard about him." Kiba nodded absently. "I hoped you wouldn't, but perhaps you meeting Sellzen was inevitable."
"How did you know?" Issei wondered allowed. Because it beggared the question - how much did
Kiba - did the devil know?
"I didn't - but it certainly seemed like something you would do." Kiba continued moving smoothly beside him. If he knew anything, he wasn't giving much away. "-because Freed Sellzen possesses something you desire."
Questions upon questions.
Something I desire. Issei thought back to that warm day that he saw the priest making himself at home in the crowds of the marketplace. Even back then, he'd known that the priest represented something, some kind of turning point or nebulous goal. Some inner strength Issei wished he felt. He hadn't known quite what that was back then, but then did he, even now? The priest seemed to exist on his own terms, and perhaps it was what he possessed that buoyed him so. Issei certainly couldn't live so boldly.
"Why have you gotten wrapped up in such things, Ise-kun?" Something flickered behind Kiba's eyes. "Why can you simply not let live and let go? It's the easier path, by far, even in terms of convenience."
That was a good question, Issei realized, and to be honest he really didn't have a good reason. He simply couldn't stand up for himself, you know. All these people with strong opinions, he was the sort of guy to go with what they wanted. Whirled around like a leaf, he was a victim to all these people with agendas. All he'd really wanted was a date, some good food, and maybe to be someone's hero. Three strikes was too much for his maiden heart to bear, he simply didn't have the energy to protest the injustice. They arrived at the door, and he still didn't really have an answer, in the end.
"I wasn't actually given any choice in the matter." Issei lied, stopping to lean against the wall as he tried to readjust the bin so he could heft it one-handed.
Kiba took two quick steps forwards, and gently shoved the crash bar back, swinging the door open and politely holding it. Issei grunted, stumping past and onto the tiny stairwell. The bin scraped the walls as they trudged down the tiny passage in line, and if Issei scraped the bin a bit harder than necessary to fill the awkward silence, then Kiba had nothing to say about it.
The trash sparked a little as Issei bagged it for the e-disposal bin. Kiba leaned against the wall behind him, waiting, but no question passed his lips. Issei opened and closed his mouth for a second, standing beside Kiba but unable to voice what he wanted.
These bags are really heavy
He gave up, and moved to start loading them up, but heard a quiet rustle behind him.
Issei's back straightened, startled. Had Kiba taken the bags to the bin?! They were really heavy! If he'd moved them, they were definitely a struggle. He was struggling, but that was why people called Kiba a good person, wasn't it? He was definitely the kind of guy to do something so unnecessary.
Issei whirled around to apologize and thank Kiba, but stopped. The blonde boy stood guilelessly, holding the smallest and lightest bag of the five that Issei managed to fill.
Issei hadn't even expected anything, and he was still disappointed.
He moved quickly, grabbing the bags and hefting them with a grunt, and moving to the disposal bin. It was a struggle, and left him breathless, but the sight of Kiba casually moving and twirling the little bag filled him with a burning rage and plenty of energy to burn. He forced the bags into the bin with more energy than it warranted, but he felt better by the end of it.
And now they needed to wait. The little courtyard they were in was behind the school, off to the side so both the new and old school buildings were visible. It was in a grove of sorts, surrounded by trees, but with multiple gravel roads leading out for access to the dumpsters. The burnable trash merrily popped around the back, but the two of them remained standing quietly in the shade.
"Charming." The answer was sudden but honest, unexpectedly so for all that it was warranted. "Freed was...charming." Indeed, more than the gore coating the pews, what struck him was the way no one flinched. The line never shifted. Perhaps questions and voices were raised, but not a single man stepped out of line besides himself. "He moved like he knew his place in the world." The words continued to fall from his lips, thoughts that had never congealed and envy unspoken. "Everyone else acted like that too - like he was something more than them somehow. He acted however he wanted and spoke whenever he felt like."
"People say that about you too, Ise-kun." But the words were thoughtful, not as accusatory or teasing as he'd expected. It was an uncomfortable way to speak, and Issei didn't like it.
"That's different." The stifling feeling in his chest agreed. It wasn't one he normally paid attention to, simply because he was confident it was common and unspoken. The need to watch his tongue, speak carefully in case he actually offended someone. It wasn't the same.
"Yes." Kiba agreed, to Issei's discomfort. "It is, very different indeed." Now Kiba understood him a little better. And that was something to fear, no? But Issei understood Kiba a little better too, and that was even scarier.
You couldn't understand someone like that without feeling slightly responsible for it.
"You know him."
"Not even a little." Kiba replied smoothly, and that was a little more than Issei wanted to understand. Because it meant that it wasn't Freed himself that Kiba hated so strongly, but something about what he represented.
"I too, wish to speak to Freed Sellzen."
That dark something flickered behind his eyes once more, and this time it didn't pull away. It lingered like a flame, dancing behind his eyes. "We are in similar circumstances, Ise-kun." Kiba said softly.
"We're not."
A brow raised.
"Oh?"
Issei felt the pulped mass in his chest beat once, twice. "I can't be a hero. Or cool. I'm handsome of course, and witty and smart," he took a moment to stop and preen, but immediately sobered. "But I'm not cool. Or strong."
"Why?"
"I ran away. I couldn't even help an innocent girl."
Kiba stilled. "Then perhaps we are very similar indeed."
Issei felt his eye twitch, whirling around, but the dark expression on Kiba's face halted his tongue.
"Where is he, Ise."
"The church on the hill." Issei hesitated. "He isn't alone."
"Tell me more."
For all that he was taller, the younger boy felt very small. But he spoke. He spoke of a girl, tall and lovely and confident in a way that put him to shame but drew him helplessly. He spoke of a another, an innocent that danced a line he hadn't noticed and of a man that waited for her to fall, of a people that lost themselves in fancy and fear, and of a church that lay dark even on the warmest nights.
The blonde boy walked away silently, leaving a shivering brunette cold in the sun.
Ah yes, this was a devil was it not?
But what did that mean?
Issei slowly allowed himself to fall backwards, slumping onto the grass. His face grew thoughtful, thoughts dancing below the surface.
Yuuto Kiba moved quickly, but his face was calm. Taking the steps two at a time, he swung into the school building with a grace belying his speed, and in a matter of minutes found himself slowly rejoining the bustle and crowds.
"Senpai."
"Koneko." The words were warm, and he smiled at the young woman who smoothly stepped up to his side. They traded sideways glances, each as emotionless as the other.
"Where were you." The girl stared. The boy smiled. "I was occupied by my classmates."
Her face wrinkled into a look of mild disgust. Kiba said nothing, the silence between them filled by the sounds of teenagers slamming doors shut. He continued at a slower pace, Koneko only splitting with him at the end of the hallway, pointing up a staircase tucked into the side and shooting him a thoughtful look. He never turned to face her, only turning to run smoothly up the steps to the third floor. He slowed as he neared the top, moving at a respectfully average pace and nodding. Rias waited next to the stairwell, Akeno leaning over the bannister to her side to wave cheerfully at him. The look on Rias's face was not as friendly however, puzzlement and some consternation playing out in her eyes and lips. Kiba's expression never changed as he approached, sketching a quick bow that he disguised as exhaustion before standing upright. She opened her mouth, but Kiba spoke faster.
"I found them."
Rias's lips pursed, her eyes immediately a-whirl dissecting that statement. Kiba continued to hold a placid look even as Akeno wandered over and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"What's that?" Her voice felt like it was tickling his ear as she whispered, the casualness of the motion undercutting how tersely she spoke. "Where-"
"I am friendly with many of my classmates, many of whom enjoy Kuoh's nightlife-"
Akeno violently snorted, before reasserting control of herself.
"...enjoy spending time outdoors after dark. The goodmen in question were...less circumspect than their position would indicate."
Rias raised a brow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that little nighttime rendezvous that you popped off to, now would it?"
"It was an emergency." Kiba objected firmly.
"The list of people that want to kill Kiba can be narrowed down to the entire male student body and half the female one." Akeno admitted airily. "Plus Sona."
Rias shrugged. "These things happen. No one told Kiba to be that handsome. It's his fault." Her eyes narrowed. "But he's also my cute knight. Why would anyone think to hurt him?"
"Even I occasionally feel the urge." She side-eyed Kiba's bland smile. "Such as when he refuses to be forthright."
"I couldn't see the victims-"
"-in the dark, yes." Rias rolled her eyes, slumping over the bannister. "And yet you claim-"
"It was definitely Freed attacking them." The stubborn glint in Kiba's eye drew a sigh from Rias. "And you just happened to locate him?"
"I have contacts."
"A day later."
"Good contacts."
Rias stamped her feet. "Kiba!"
"Now now," Akeno soothed, demeaningly patting her childish king on the head. She slowly turned to Kiba, the amused look in her eyes making him shudder. "I love the new rebellious streak sweetheart, but really, we do need to know."
"I believe this to be wholly untrue." Kiba replied automatically.
Akeno bit her reponse off, instead thoughtfully sucking on her bottom lip. "...no, I'm gonna say we do. See, moving on an unreliable testimony is...a risk yes?"
Kiba sighed. "I volunteer as scout. And forfeit all my dessert privileges in the meantime."
"Done and done." Akeno dusted her hands off. "I await the good news."
Kiba turned on the spot, as straight-backed as the day they found him, and strode off down the hallway. Akeno and Rias followed his retreating form, Rias miming a tear. "That little boy's all grown-up."
Akeno leered at his backside. "I am very fine with that."
Rias giggled and swatted her friends arm. "Dirty girl!" She smirked and waved off a classmate, lowering her voice to whisper to Akeno. "The rumors are true, huh."
Akeno bit her lip again, smiling. "Little Kiba has a fwiieeeend."
Rias squealed with glee, clapping her hands and bouncing in place. "Oh my god!"
"I know."
Rias stopped dead. "Oh my god we have to invite them." Akeno bit her nail gently, careful not to chip her gloss. "Tea Party?"
Rias shook her head. "They're boys."
"Party with tea."
Rias snapped her fingers. "That's the one."
Yuuto Kiba dreamed, night after night.
He woke again, panting.
"Such violence."
The whisper echoed in his dark room. Yuuto looked at his trembling hands, and clenched them.
"What're you trying to tell me, Sword Birth."
Dreams. Among all in this world, gear holders dreamed deepest. Theirs was the right to peer through time, and see what was.
Some, it was said, could even speak to those that were, but all that Yuuto saw was blood.
A moment's hesitation, and then he levered himself off his sweaty sheets. The bed creaked gently, but he quickly found his feet and padded across his bedroom and out into the cold hallway. His apartment was silent, moonbeams peeking through his thin curtains the only light and his faucet the only sound. Kiba sighed, feeling more awake than he'd hoped, and abandoned any chance of going back to sleep. A flick and pulse of heat and he was no longer alone, a foil now dangling lazily from his fingertips. He brought it up in a fencer's guard, and began practicing his footwork.
The sound of dripping was now joined by the sound of cutting wind and the light crackle of tatami, as the boy danced with the moonlight. Step by step, he danced between moonbeams and pierced each mercilessly. The endless tide of light was cut apart again and again, silver dancing over the walls in the boy's single minded fight.
The blade finally stilled, and the sound of panting joined the orchestra.
"At last."
The boy smiled. Perhaps Issei had been right. It was about time that he lived his life honestly. Perhaps coveting revenge so long was not something to take pride in, but he'd cling to that childish desire with both hands so long as it meant that he could take that small degree of self-satisfaction to the grave.