Assignment 9 : Science & Faith Find Hope In The Stars

What Alu said, bothered Nathaniel Hawthorne. He hated that it gnawed at him. Her words. He had won. He had passed God's Judgement. So why did he doubt it? No, doubt was for the weak. He had his faith. His faith had spoken. It had passed judgement on her. He wasn't doing it. He was a vessel for God's Judgement.

'You didn't pass God's Judgement, just your own'

Her words echoed but Nathaniel Hawthorne grit his teeth. "Liar," he hissed under his breath.

He was in the process of fleeing with Miss Mitchell. The ship had just been blown up but luckily he had an escape route already planned. Dashing to it now, he and Miss Mitchell were on the run. That explosion had taken out the ship—and that suicidal duo as well, Hawthorne could only hope.

"Insolent woman," he growled.

"I sure do hope you don't mean me," Miss Mitchell snapped, affronted as she followed Hawthorne.

"Tch, different woman," Hawthorne deadpanned, not denying he also thought the same of Mitchell.

—-

A/N: LOL. These two need to get a room, por favor. ?

—-

"Regardless, that letter was no joke, after all…" Hawthorne sighed. "The Port Mafia Boss intends to rub out us and our vessel. He has already claimed the vessel…"

"What should we do?" Margaret asked, frustrated. "You got distracted by that woman!"

"Tch," Hawthorne couldn't deny that. But it was because he had to stand up for God. It was a neccessary stallment. "She denounced my Faith and His Name."

"Seriously? We have more pressing matters than your ego!" Margaret hissed.

"This has nothing to do with ego," he crackled, glaring at Margaret.

Margaret just eye twitched. But Hawthorne was angry and she shrank back from his cold glare. "Alright, jeez."

"Good, at least one woman understands her place," Hawthorne huffed.

Margaret wanted to mummify his stupid face. "You—!"

"Let's go this way," Hawthorne took off.

Margaret followed and they came to the entrance of their escape. There was someone already standing there, supposedly waiting for them. Margaret gasped. "Oh! It's you! The secretary!" She dashed over as though to greet him. "I thought the Mafia captured…you?"

Lemons fell out of the man's slit corpse.

Margaret could barely scream. Her eyes widened.

Hawthorne yelled. "Mitchell! Look out!" He summoned a wall of words immediately, to protect her. The explosions from the lemons ensued.

But Hawthorne had an impressive wall of language to protect them. And they say words can't break your bones like sticks and stones~ lmao. Clearly some people haven't had this man or a dictionary thrown at their head.

Alu breathed hard.

Damn that was a close call, even for her.

"Hey uh, you can let go now," a voice next to her awkwardly said. Alu blinked. She had been holding princess style The Lemon Bomber, when she jumped ship in the escape. She let go of him.

"Ah, whoops!" She said, with a grin.

The Lemon Bomber gazed at her. They were now on the docks again, crouched and out of sight from the two Guild members. "…You didn't have to save me," he started, furrowing his brow.

"If I see someone in trouble, I guess you could say it's reflex," she said, with a shrug.

"…Those bombs…" He frowned.

"I know," Alu said, gazing at him. "Your bombs don't affect you, right? But they have to be handmade and lemon-shaped in order to work."

The Lemon Bomber's eyes widened. "How…?"

"You practically ran into the enemy intentionally, and to top it off, it's not exactly hard to deduce that your ability has to do with lemon bombs—I mean, who intentionally wants to get blown up unless they're nuts?" She pointed out humorously. "You survived multiple uses of your bombs, it wasn't that hard to figure out it had to be an ability that laid not with the bombs but with yourself."

The Lemon Bomber was utterly taken aback with incredulous surprise. A person of science perhaps would have immediately come to that conclusion. But she was a person of religion more than science…wasn't she? But he didn't sense anything bad from this person. No, it felt like she was just on her own side in all of this. He wasn't assigned to kill her so he felt some relief inwardly.

"Hey, do you have a name?" Alu asked brightly.

"I'll give you my name if you tell me yours first," he said, cheekily. He wasn't used to talking to girls that much—and normally no one cared about him or his lemons. This person was interesting though.

"Ah, fair," Alu grinned. "My name is… Aoi Tsuki," she said brightly.

"Ah, your name means 'Blue Moon'," The Lemon Bomber blinked, bemused. "But wait, you said you're an American."

Alu laughed. "I wasn't born in America. I'm adopted~" she grinned. "The world made me an orphan but…I got taken in anyhow~"

She didn't look Japanese. But, she spoke Japanese incredibly well and it could just be a genetics thing, in all honesty. He wasn't going to sweat the small details. They weren't his business. "I see…" The Lemon Bomber weighed his options. He didn't know what side this person was on. But she wasn't a bad person. She wasn't like him. She definitely wasn't inherently corrupt. In a way, he felt like she was too bright. Too energetic. But she had acknowledged him and his ability. She didn't laugh at him.

He knew he'd get an earful from the boss. But, a simple introduction could hardly hurt, right?

"…Motojirō Kajii."

"Nice to meet you, Kajii-kun!" Alu grinned.

"Ah…" yep, she was definitely foreign. That honorific was typically for someone you were close to, like a brother or family member. But, Kajii didn't feel like correcting her. It actually had a nice ring to it, when she was the one saying it. He felt his face warm a little and he turned away.

"Orah~! I should get going. Mister Clergyman and I still have to finish—-!?" Alu felt Kajii suddenly grab her sleeve.

The look on his face made her pause. " Is something wrong?"

"I would not recommend, trying to pursue them," he said, his voice tight.

Alu quieted. "Why not?"

Kajii's expression was dark underneath his goggles. His teeth clenched. Alu noted the subtle shaking of his grip. This was serious. Whatever it was. And this person didn't want her to get hurt. Caring about a stranger, now that was something one wouldn't expect from someone in the Port Mafia.

But Alu smiled smally.

People were not black and white.

Thank god they weren't fifty shades of grey….

"That…" Kajii continued, voice level.

The wall of letters loomed, swirling and surrounding Mitchell and Hawthorne now, as lemon bomb explosions continued to go off. "My Scarlet Letter is the Word itself, granted unto me through a Holy Spirit Bourne from an act of Atonement…It thwarts all evil around me. My faith is not so easily shaken by the likes of her," he hissed, grimacing, as he held his cross between his fingers.

"Because someone is coming…someone not even close to being on my level."

Margaret Mitchell shuddered slightly. She was used to Hawthorne being irritated but here, he was flat out pissed. But his power was something else. Margaret herself feared what Hawthorne was capable of. She did not want to be on the other side of God's Judgement. She was a God fearing woman, after all.

But that odd person didn't fear God. She had to be an enemy, regardless. Mitchell wished she'd just mummified her but she knew Hawthorne's pride. If Mitchell had stepped in, then it would look like Hawthorne was too 'weak' to take care of that blasphemous urchin himself. Mitchell inwardly sighed. She hated how little she was actually able to contribute. It felt like this man was convinced he had to do all of the work.

She pouted.

Meanwhile, some survivors came running over, with a report for Hawthorne and Mitchell on the state of things. "The enemy has set up traps everywhere. One wrong move and you could easily lose your life."

"I see," Nathaniel huffed, "So we'll have to fend off the enemy here, huh?"

"I see," Alu said, tilting her head at Kajii.

"We will need to block the enemy's next move. If we can block the surprise attack, then no enemy can defeat me, no matter the number," Hawthorne said haughtily, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"No, you don't understand. This person was sent…and he takes no survivors, never." Kajii's voice shook. "You need to leave, before you're implicated or worse, killed! This isn't your fight!"

Alu's expression was hard to discern. "…"

SSHLLKKKK.

SlLAASsHHS..hhh..

"Cough. Cough."

A man's attempt to subdue and suppress his throat came from behind Nathaniel Hawthorne's frozen body. His expression was horrified. Transfixed. Surprised didn't begin to describe what Hawthorne felt at the moment.

She patted his arm.

Alu smiled at him. "That blind tone deaf priest and I however have an unfinished Sermon…but thank you, for warning me. You're a good person, after all!"

Kajii felt her slip from his grasp.

"This sea air…is murder on my chest. Let's get this over with quickly." The man was dressed in black, with a frilly white top, empty eyes, white tips on his black hair that framed his angular young face. He looked barely out of his teens.

"Hell will be unleashed! You can't hope to win!" Kajii's voice was tight. "Faith can't bring the dead back to life! Even science hasn't figured that out…taboo, man."

"You mentioned before that faith was the absence of doubt." Alu looked away. "Faith is not the absence of doubt, it is merely a feeling that lets one go on living knowing their existence and the existence of others has worthI know this person you are talking about, understands that even if it may be in simpler terms."

"You know…that person?"

"I know he is capable of so much more than death and destruction. Cause, I believe in him."

Her words echoed.

Like a ghost, it was as though she just slipped through his grasp.

He didn't try to stop her.

And yet, Margaret Mitchell as well as the remaining crew were skewered like shish-kabobs on his black and red spike ability that extended from his billowing coat. Even Hawthorne felt blood dribble down his own chin, as he too, had been struck.

"Ugh—-Agh…." Hawthorne grimaced.

"You…A Mafia hitman…"

"…How are you," Akutagawa indifferently asked, formal.

"Terrible, thanks for asking, it's like I'm up against Diablo himself," Hawthorne grimaced. "What is your name, boy?"

"Diablo."

"Hehe, let this site be Mt. Sermon," Hawthorne stated, already in a bad mood because of one poisonous insect screwing with him today and his Faith. Very well, perhaps this was God's test. He would master it just like he always did. He was not a man to make mistakes—or condone them.

"You are merely a Dark Examiner, attempting to make me waiver in my Faith," Nathaniel Hawthorne rumbled with a pained bloody-mouthed grin. "If that is what you seek, then let me grant you this instead."

Nathaniel Hawthorne extended an arm, as his block of letters created a wall, blocking Akutagawa's attack.

"Oh and one more thing—do not call me 'brother'," Hawthorne growled, "I am not some relic of Rome—Do not insult my Faith with your weak theatrics, you human waste!" His eyes lit up, angry. No one would question him. He didn't question himself. His resolve, his faith, his path was absolution.

His judgement was God's Judgement. He did not take God's place. He was but a man, after all. He could never hope to become God. He would never dream of insulting God in such a manner. It was hubris that made the Devil himself fall from God's Grace. Hawthorne knew better. He knew that for humanity, they could only bask in the glow of God's Light. They were never meant to question it. Because what was there to question? God was meant to be believed in without needing definite proof. That is what keeping the faith even meant.

Nathaniel Hawthorne was tasked by God's Grace to pass His Judgement. There were still sinners. There were those lost who dragged down others with them.

An example being this boy. This poor sinner. A boy stained with blood. A boy meant to only sink further into Hell.

"Repent! You Dog of the Mafia!" Hawthorne thundered.

There was no salvation for this child, this boy, this man. No matter what stage of life he walked, it would end with him being swallowed up by the Gates of Hell. Hawthorne would make sure of it.

They both struck at each other.

Alu had inched onto the scene by now, and she watched the fight going on offhandedly, hiding behind the useful placed rubble. Rashomon is strong…wow…welp, this kid is still terrifying. If I get involved, he may actually kill me…lol~ Alu's eyes glanced at the slain guards and the barely- conscious Mitchell who was starting to stir again.

Her eyes flickered.

'Is your writing more important than the lives of people?' Atsushi's words echoed.

Alu closed her eyes for a moment. Her expression was momentarily one of conflict. "Of course I care about both, Kitten," she said quietly. No one heard her of course. The men were off in their own little worlds of self-destruction. Ah~ these two man-babies. Didn't take much to have them become self-absorbed, lol.

"Rashomon!" Akutagawa called. His beast summoned, opening its jaws with a growl.

Alu's eyes were sparkling as she fangirled over how cute Akutagawa's bloodthirsty ability was. She low-key wondered if this was a terrible time to want to pet Rashomon.

"The Scarlet Letter!" Hawthorne commanded.

Rashomon and Hawthorne's ability danced around each other. Finally, Rashomon managed to injure Hawthorne, causing Hawthorne to bend to one knee.

Akutagawa was hardly impressed. "Either fight me at full power or else it was pointless volunteering to kill you," he hissed.

"I don't need my full power for the likes of you," Hawthorne growled. "This fight was decided…from the start!"

The blood on Akutagawa's overcoat turned into writing that bound Akutagawa.

Wow, his ability can also be used for bondage…seems Heaven and Hell have a lot more in common than first meets the eye, Alu pursed her lips, from where she was observing.

"What?!" Akutagawa exclaimed, eyes widening. "You—your blood turned into writing!"

"You are no devil. I was mistaken. You're merely a mindless mutt, gnawing on a bone of those weaker than you. I suppose, you've only ever fought weak ability users until now?" Hawthorne spoke, rising now.

"Who cares…?" A woman's voice cut through the fighting.

But it wasn't Alu's own. Alu's eyes widened a little along with the others, though not as much.

"The mafia? The war? I don't care about any of it!" Mitchell scraped the ground with her fingers, bruised, bloodied, battered, and very angry. Wind conjured her around her, eroding at the earth.

"A material-weathering ability?" Akutagawa spoke, surprised.

"I only care to reclaim my family's honor! I won't lose it to someone like you who knows nothing of defeat or humiliation!" Mitchell screamed.

Ah, great, another person who sucked at putting themselves into someone else's shoes, Alu inwardly grimaced. At least Atsushi was cute and had an excuse for why he was still stuck in his own head. This person just didn't see anyone but herself and her own problems. And yet. This girl was crying on the inside. She only wanted to have the strength to save her own family.

Alu's eyes flickered. She could tell. She was better understanding what the motivation was for these Guild members at least for being here. They had all been promised something more than money by Fitzgerald. But they would only meet their own ruin staying in his service.

Alu's eyes narrowed.

"You say I know nothing of defeat?"

Akutagawa's voice was dark and thunderous.

Suddenly, without warning, spikes erupted, moving like lightning towards Mitchell.

Hawthorne wouldn't make it in time!

In slow motion, Hawthorne watched as with horror, the spikes—

"Heel, Rashomon!" The woman from before, spoke loudly, her voice thundering in the crumbling space.

Akutagawa's eyes widened as he felt something within himself shudder. "!?"

Rashomon retreated—at this person's command!?

Akutagawa stumbled backwards, from the force of his ability returning to his 'overcoat' form. He breathed hard, eyes wide. Why had his ability disobeyed him!? Akutagawa could hear Dazai's voice.

Taunting him.

'Your ability is for show. You are weak with or without it in the end'.

No, that wasn't true!

Pain, humiliation? All of it. Akutagawa was the one carrying it on his shoulders. Not just his own, but those who had fallen as well. Akutagawa carried on the memory of his comrades, himself. All alone.

Alu went over to Mitchell, to check on her a bit, but Mitchell shrank back, ready to use her ability on Alu. "Hey, you are in no condition to fight," Alu said sharply.

"You wench! You stand in the way of my family's honor being restored!" Mitchell yelled. She summoned her wind, and blasted it at Alu. But Alu reached out wordlessly, past the wind, her skin untouched. Her body outlined in a light pink purple glow. Just for a moment.

Alu slapped her.

Mitchell's eyes widened.

So did Hawthorne's.

"Your family…would never have wanted this." Her voice was low and deep but thunderous and Mitchell shuddered. Alu's eyes…were something else entirely.

Akutagawa was still reeling mentally from what just happened. He didn't notice, lost in his own mind's agony.

Akutagawa had been training for years to get stronger! Strong enough to be acknowledged. He relentlessly did mission after mission. He put his life on the line constantly. Even after Dazai left, he strived to always hold onto that teaching.

And yet, Dazai's smile wasn't ever directed at him.

Akutagawa roared, whirling on Alu, with no warning. He had to prove himself to Dazai! He had to—-he was suddenly bound by Hawthorne's ability again. "!?" But, he refused to wilt. He refused to lose. Rashomon answered his call, sensing the threat of Hawthorne. His ability would not attack that person but it would still attack Hawthorne —so be it!

Alu stepped away from Mitchell, with a huff. Mitchell was badly injured so moving with ease was out of the question. But suddenly, Alu found herself bound by Hawthorne's ability. Her eyes widened. "!"

Akutagawa had to deal with all the threats! It was the only way to win—at this point! But, that woman would have to come last—he resisted Hawthorne's hold on him. He charged towards Hawthorne, determined to win, no matter what.

Alu meanwhile wriggled like an angry worm, spinning around and cursing under her breath."Dammit, Haughty-Thorne!" She griped.

Hawthorne held some relief. So it would appear—though that useless woman's ability didn't work on this person, at least his own was still superior. It affected everyone after all. No one was spared from God's Judgment. All sinners had to answer to Him in the end.

BDDMPP—

Suddenly, without warning, completely unrelated to the events going on, Akutagawa threw up blood.

Alu froze, eyes wide.

Akutagawa broke free of Hawthorne's grasp of The Scarlet Letter, but he stumbled back, breathing hard.

"You are in no condition to fight!" Hawthorne was the one to speak, not Alu. Alu inwardly was a bit impressed. Why did people act like they actually could be decent towards others in the wierdest timed situations? Sigh.

"I care not for your concern. Come at me with everything you've got!" Akutagawa snarled. He noted how Hawthorne had Alu also in his ability's grasp. This meant they were not working together—that much was obvious.

Akutagawa's eyes narrowed, as he glared at Hawthorne again. "Why go to such lengths in your condition?" Hawthorne snapped, incredulous.

"Because…I alone…survived all this time, while my comrades fell around me. You say I know nothing of defeat or humiliation. That is incorrect. I know them both well. I have turned them into my own sword and shield!" Akutagawa roared. "My resolve lies in my credo—A few words, spoken by a certain person…that have enabled me to endure licking ground and rolling in mud at the bottom of the darkest depths!"

That person again. Bandages over one eye. A cold gaze. No warmth. A man who held a gun once to Akutagawa and told him 'If you're useless you should just die.'

Bang.

Bang.

Shots rang out but Rashomon had activated, preventing this man's gun from laying any lethal hits directly to Akutagawa's quivering teenage body.

The man blinked with his one good eye. 'Oh? Your ability appears to still have some use after all. Good. Utilize that.'

For Akutagawa, that was the closest thing to praise he'd ever gotten from that person.

Alu inwardly grimaced, like she'd smelled something rotten. That's what Akutagawa is using as his motivation to admire this person? Dear lord, this poor child needs therapy…and a hug… Alu had very mixed feelings about Akutagawa's obsession with that person. Ugh. Her eyebrow twitched. Standards for admiration were seriously low.

Agh. Men.

At the time, it's not like Akutagawa had anything better. But still. Alu's expression was hard.

Hawthorne just stared in amazement. His eyes were wide. It was clear he was acknowledging Akutagawa's level of commitment to wanting to win, no matter what. "You said you wanted my full strength?" He said finally, closing his eyes and running his cross along his hand. "Very well, allow me to grant you your wish."

Alu just tilted her head, eyes squinting. Dude, you think he's suddenly impressive because he's on a suicidal binge? Man, your conditions for 'Faith' are warped… "Seriously!?" Alu burst out, completely irritated now. "You won't go ham on me but you decide to unleash God's full Judgement on this kid!?"

Hawthorne glared at her, as his finger pointed at Akutagawa, words swirling around it. "He has shown an unwavering resolve in the face of his adversary, he is… worthy of being treated with the respect he is desiring."

"And I'm not? What am I? Chopped freaking liver?!" Alu floundered angrily.

"You be quiet." Hawthorne tightened his ability on Alu. Alu gasped out in pain, feeling it snake to her throat. "You already lost."

Akutagawa gazed at the struggling woman before he turned back to Hawthorne. His own eyes narrowed. He would finish this opponent and then her after.

Mitchell meanwhile trembled, still speechless from when Alu slapped her and yet.

That girl's eyes.

Mitchell realized she was wrong. She had been wrong. She had been with The Guild because she thought it would help her restore her family's honor. But she had been wrong. This wasn't the path to doing so. All of this was pointless. That person's eyes…spoke volumes.

"W-Wait…" Mitchell gasped, eyes wide, realizing something.

No one paid attention to her small voice.

Hawthorne made a noise of irritation, but he pointed his finger at Akutagawa, firing off the blasts of 'judgement' like they were bullets. But it wasn't Akutagawa that took the hits. Akutagawa's eyes widened as the girl—seemingly bound before—was completely unbound and had taken the assault of Hawthorne's attack onto her own body, blocking Akutagawa.

Akutagawa fell off balance, his own ability—still unwilling to strike this person!?

They were instead fixated on the one that spoke next, from someone who was seemingly just in the way and annoying. A person who should have been insignificant. A mere insect to squash in the big grand scheme of things.

That person now, had stopped both their abilities with just her next words:

'I think that will suffice, boys.'

It was almost like Osamu Dazai had just entered the chat.

Rashomon retreated once more back into Akutagawa comically.

The mens' eyes widened, along with Mitchell's. She managed to struggle to her feet, and they all gaped.

A broad grin.

"Seeing…is believing…so they say~"

Alu was unscathed.

Nathaniel Hawthorne's ability that was supposed to burn her—hadn't actually left any marks. The marks of a sinner were always left behind—it's one of the key points of his ability. But she stood now, completely unscathed.

Her clothes.

Her body.

Her entire person was completely untouched. His ability fading into nothing but light before even touching her.

Nathaniel Hawthorne's eyes widened with horror.

Alu smirked darkly. "You know that old saying… 'He who hath not sinned may cast the first stone?'…" She brushed off her shoulder with sigh, while everyone looked at her with stupefied amazement. "I am a sinner, don't get me wrong. But in your case, I am the stone~" she beamed at Nathaniel Hawthorne.