A Waken 16.8.T
When you think about it, I'd been approaching the problem from the wrong angle.
I kept trying to find a way to stabilize the Twin Drive by strengthening the GN Field or smoothing out particle flow and condensation—A brute force solution solvable by design improvements. It was how I'd solved most of my problems before now.
The GN Drive wasn't a weapon.
It was a communicator.
What does a communicator need if it isn't reaching far enough?
A bigger fucking antenna.
Ever since 0 Gundam, I hadn't really done anything to change how I created GN Fields.
They do say bigger is better.
Longer and broader, with built-in condensers that could feed directly off the Drive output. Project the field with more force and a focus. It could be done with an add-on unit. If I overdesigned it, we could even make the thing capable of independent flight and operation.
I'd started sketching out new weapons while I was at it. So far, 00 had just used hand-me-downs from Exia. Most of those designs could use an update.
"Taylor."
My pencil stopped and I raised my head.
Amy watched me patiently with a small smile on her face. She sat across the table from me, both of us seated in her comfortably-arrayed office. My eyes scanned the various books, family pictures, and assorted items that decorated the room.
It was comfortable. Fitting for a therapist. Comfort was important.
Quickly, I set my pencil down beside the notebook I'd brought with me. "Sorry."
"It's alright." She remained relaxed, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. I called it her 'therapist mode.' Calm and collected, reserved and non-judgemental. "It helps me guess that this has upset you a lot. More than you'd like to admit."
Not remotely untrue.
That was precisely why she let me doodle during our sessions. Apparently, I could be rather stoic. How distracted I was by tinkering told her a lot that my face and voice didn't.
Staring at the page and pulling my hands into my lap, I admitted, "I never wanted to see her again."
"Never wanted to," Amy repeated back at me, "or never expected to?"
I looked away from her, fingers reaching for the pencil. I stopped myself and sighed. "Maybe."
I'd absolutely never planned to fall apart again. Not like that. Not in front of her. She'd mocked me for crying how many times? Rubbed it in my face and demeaned me for being... Emotional. Human. Alive. Like that was a crime when I did it.
She hadn't mocked me by the time I stalked out of the bathroom. I'd refused to give her the chance. I'd come close though. Emma just sat there, silently shedding tears and it took everything I had not to let her see; to just heave and glare all my everything.
I managed to hold it all in, again.
When I finally left, I found Veda waiting outside staring down Recoil in civilian clothes and a few men I guessed were PRT guards. They'd gathered their own crowd of onlookers.
Naturally, the entire incident was on PHO within an hour.
So was everything Emma said on the stand.
It's exactly what Kati hadn't wanted to happen. She didn't chide me for it. She went right to work, dancing around reporters' questions while I went home with Veda and Dad. Kinue might get her story sooner than she'd expected, and on a topic she'd offered to try and avoid for my sake.
Great plan, Taylor. It went splendidly.
"You're beating yourself up," Amy observed. "Why?"
"Because Kati warned me this would happen."
"I highly doubt she expected what happened."
"She knew something would go wrong and warned me."
"Do you think she's blaming you for what happened? I doubt she expected Emma to show up any more than you did."
Probably not.
Indeed, several things had been going on in the trial out of sight. Not because they were secret so much as because no reporters found them interesting. Dad explained that motions to dismiss were made all the time. He'd seen it plenty even in his limited experience with courts. They were mundane, and the PRT had been downplaying what Emma had to say.
They wanted to subtly ambush Blue Cosmos with her.
Big and flashy scenes were mostly for TV drama, but trials still had a lot of attempts to surprise the other side or ambush them with things they hadn't fully prepared for.
Here, it was getting Emma into the same room as the other girls before testimony or questioning started. They'd all been down there, even if I hadn't seen them. Some of the pictures making it to the internet made me think a few were very nervous about what Emma said.
She never came out and did it, but she was basically calling all of them liars for pointing the finger at Sophia.
And it seemed to work because Emma pointed the finger at herself.
"May I make an observation?" Amy asked.
I shrugged. "I guess."
"You called her Emma."
My brow went up. "Um, yes?" I hadn't told Amy Emma was Weaver. I'd tried not to think about Emma being Weaver, the possibility that I'd caused her to... Not the point. "That's her name?"
"You have a tendency," she explained in a warm voice. "You call Naze Turbine by his first name."
"Yes?"
"But you refer to Deputy Director Renick as 'Renick.' Mirai Yashima is Ms. Yashima or her full name."
"Um, yeah. Those are their names."
"Are they?" Amy asked back. "You call capes by their cape names, but some you say more warmly than others."
I had no idea what she was driving at. "I know some better than others."
"You've known Dauntless for some time, but you've never spoken of him with the same kind of regard you give to Chevalier, who you've only spoken with twice."
Well, as far as she knew. I told my therapist a lot, but obviously I couldn't tell her everything.
"And you call Emma, Emma," Amy continued.
She watched me, and I watched her back. We'd done this before. Amy said she was reluctant to come out and just tell me things. Something about ethics.
"Just tell me," I griped. Ethics be damned.
Amy hesitated a moment and then smiled. "You talk about people you trust very differently from those you don't. Something I've noticed every time Emma's name comes up…"—she tilted her head, examining me—"You still talk about her like you trust her."
I sat up straight. "Why would I trust her?" After everything she'd done to me?
"Because we don't always get to control the things we feel," she replied. "The people we love. And despite everything you still love Emma."
I blinked at the sensation of tears building up behind my eyes. "She betrayed me."
"And that makes it hurt more."
"She hurt me."
"And you blame yourself, for not hating her for what she's done."
My hands tightened against my knees.
Of course I never hated Emma—I hated what she'd done. How she made me feel. It was all so petty though. So small. That made it hurt all the more, but it wasn't... Honesty. Honesty was important in therapy. That's the mantra Amy had.
"M—I don't think..."
I stopped and Hannah's words were suddenly ringing in my head.
He became my brother. I loved him.
That image of Scion too, as Administrator tried to understand the pain my mother's death left in me.
We don't always get to choose how we feel.
"Maybe," I choked out.
Amy watched me closely and asked, "Would you like to stop for today, Taylor?"
I shook my head no. Amy respected boundaries. Honestly, she seemed to have a second sense for when I was getting close to one. But she'd also said overcoming boundaries was important in therapy and she was right. They should never be broken, shattered, or forced, but the things that stood in the way of our health needed to be confronted.
I think she was right.
I just wished it wasn't so uncomfortable. "I need a moment."
Amy waited quietly, not judging or prompting me at all. Sometimes I thought the primary qualification for a therapist was unmitigated patience. It's not like she'd ever really understand what it was like. She couldn't, but did she really need to?
Sometimes we just needed someone to listen.
I've found a lot of someones like that of late.
And yet, there were some things I just couldn't bring myself to say. Amy said that was okay too because she was a patron saint of patience. I felt bad about it though, mostly because sometimes feeling pathetic is a vicious cycle.
Part of me wished Amy wasn't so patient. That she'd dig in and drag it out of me. That might be easier in some ways.
I stared ahead, trying to find the words.
They never came.
"I'm sorry."
Amy smiled. "You don't have to be sorry, Taylor."
It was so stupid.
I slipped my notebook into a bag and got up. Amy led me to the door of her office as I pulled my hood up. Bad enough I'd made a scene. Best not to be photographed leaving my therapist's office as a cherry atop of the shit cake.
Could probably just ask Claire and Doormaker. I doubted they'd mind but I didn't want to call on them for everything and everywhere I went. I got the sense that's how Cauldron had used them and outside of emergencies—or life-threatening drivers—I just didn't want to bother them.
Not every problem in life should be solved with superpowers.
"Would you like to talk again tomorrow?" Amy asked. "I can make time."
"That worried about me?" I asked back.
"Do you think I should be?"
I paused at the door and looked at her. I think it was an honest question, but the veiled concern in her eyes was exactly why I felt afraid. She'd been good to me. For me.
Somehow that just wasn't enough.
I had trust issues... Turns out some things were so deep I didn't even trust myself.
"I'll see you next week," I mumbled.
"You can call if you need to," she offered.
"I know."
I kept my head down as I left, and all the way back.
The idea had been rattling around in my head since it happened. It was stupid, but I just... Amy said no one could help how they felt. It was what we did with our feelings that mattered.
I needed to tell someone.
It was eating at me. It had always been eating at me. I could ignore it before when I didn't care to try and come to terms with it. When I planned to die I could push it to the back of my mind as a pathetic and stupid thing that would never matter.
I couldn't ignore it anymore.
Funny how living turns out.
Messages from Dad and Veda were on my phone, but I just couldn't bring myself to respond yet.
Of course, Veda was always with me. I'd built her into my phone, my saber, my glasses. She was everywhere. I'd never felt so trapped by it before, or so guilty for feeling trapped. Veda would never hurt me. Maybe that's why I found it so hard. Some part of me wanted to be hurt, told I was stupid for feeling what I was feeling.
Veda would never do that, and I never wanted her to know about it.
So when I got on the bus, I pulled my glasses off my face.
I lifted the lens briefly, peering through them, and then lowered them again. I blinked. It was something I'd started noticing a while ago, but I'd just written it off. Like a lot of things.
I was breaking enough barriers for one day.
With a deep breath, I used a nail to pry the small panel on the side open, and then I yanked the tiny transistor out with tweezers from my bag.
I put the glasses back on, knowing Veda couldn't see or hear through them anymore.
As the bus went along, I did the same to my phone. The back panel came off, and I whispered a quiet 'sorry' before disabling the device. I considered saying more, but I just didn't know…
For a moment, I stared at my mother's picture. I'd put it inside the case after realizing I was forgetting her face. It was a candid shot. She was eating a burger at a camp or something, not any older than I was now. If she were alive, I think I could tell her. But if she were alive, things would be very different.
I slid the photo back into the case, put the phone on top, and slipped it into my pocket.
She wouldn't lose me. I was no Stranger. The moment I started disabling things, Veda probably confirmed my location and started trying to figure out what to do.
And I was angry about that too.
I stayed on the bus, wondering if Veda would get on at the next stop and ask what was wrong. Did I want that, or did I just want her to give me an excuse? Fucking head games. My heart started pounding every time the bus jerked.
She didn't come.
At the end of the line, I got off a block away from the factory and rolled my shoulders.
I hesitated, of course.
I didn't think there was a right answer. Just a whole lot of wrong answers, and I didn't know which was least wrong. It had to come out. It had to. I couldn't keep holding it in. I couldn't tell Amy. I couldn't tell anyone, but I had to tell someone.
I kept my eyes forward and just walked. I slipped into an alley halfway there. The Blue Cosmos protestors were still staking out the corner and if I didn't want people I loved and who loved me to see this I sure as hell didn't want them to see.
My heart pounded in my ears and threatened to burst from my chest as I slipped into the back doors of Tekkadan. I knew my way through the building, or at least I knew my way to Orga's office.
It was a quiet and unassuming room. No decorations or personal items. A plain desk, a pair of old beat-up couches with a coffee table between them, and a desk chair. There was a closet too, but I didn't know what was in it.
Dropping my bag on the floor, I settled onto the couch and exhaled.
And I waited because the world is messed up and for some reason, the things that make the least sense can feel the most right.
Kind of my problem in a nutshell right there.
I didn't have to wait long.
The door opened, and Orga peeked into the room. "Hey. One of the kids said they saw you come through the back door." He chuckled. "Big sis Newtype is visiting."
I glanced past him, but there was no one there. Mikazuki must still be up to...whatever it was he and Trevor were doing. Lots of that going around lately. Mikazuki and Trevor. Veda and Dinah. Vicky. Lily. Armsmaster.
No one can help how they feel.
"What's up?" Orga closed the door behind him and stepped around to his desk.
I tried to talk, but just because you needed to didn't make it easy.
He stopped, sparing me a quizzical look. "Is this about what happened at the courthouse yesterday?"
He'd heard about that? No shit. He paid attention to what went on around him. Of course he knew.
"Sort of," I mumbled.
Orga kept giving me the silent question treatment.
Bless him, he could be as patient as my therapist.
Unlike Amy though, he didn't hide when he knew something was wrong so well. After falling into the seat behind his desk his hand rested very close to the phone there. He watched me uncertainly, visibly trying to decide.
"That was her, right?" he asked. "That girl. She's the one who..."
"Tore my life down around me, told her bitch of a best friend to shove me into a locker full of shit, and irrevocably changed my life forever?" I scoffed and craned my head back against the couch. "Yup. That was her."
His fingers twitched in the direction of the phone. Worry played across his face. Natural. Capes didn't talk about their trigger events. When they did, something was very, very wrong.
I waged a short mental war over whether I should let him make that call.
Veda would no doubt take it as permission to come and get me. Or maybe she'd come into the room at any moment and give me an out. Once more, I couldn't tell what I really wanted to happen.
Only that something needed to happen.
I couldn't take this much longer.
I had to say it. It had to come out.
Just get it over with.
"Do you know what happened to her?"
Orga stiffened. "Who? The red-haired girl?"
I stared ahead, heart racing. "She was attacked. Two years ago. I was at camp and... I just know that some ABB cornered her and her dad and..." And nothing was ever the same again.
"I did hear"—Orga flinched when I turned my head but pressed on—"about something that summer. A couple guys from Yan's group." The guy who shot the hardware store owner? Small fucking world. "They cornered a girl in an alley. Threatened to cut her nose off. They got fucked over by a new hero who'd started running around."
Sophia. "That's it?"
"It wasn't any of us," he swore firmly. "Mostly the ABB was talking about Shadow Stalker, but we did hear about the girl."
I nodded. "I didn't." I had to find out about it after some light digging. "Emma never told me."
My hands tightened against my knees.
I stared down at the floor. "Why didn't she tell me?" I heaved a heavy breath. "Why wasn't I good enough?"
Was it because of what happened when Mom died? Mom's death changed my life, but it didn't change it forever. It was hard and painful, and scary, but I adapted. I learned to live knowing she'd never come back.
Mom dying didn't break my life.
"I could have helped her." With a pained whisper, I swore to myself, "I would have helped her."
Orga frowned as he watched me.
I hesitated again, feeling stupid and cruel. Why should I put this on him? He didn't do it and he didn't know Emma.
"She was my Mikazuki," I whispered.
Like that, Orga's face paled and I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.
"I love her," I admitted. "She was the only person in the world I thought I needed."
I couldn't admit that to Lafter. I was too afraid she'd make another joke about my preferences. I had no idea how Dad might react, so I didn't want to tell him.
I knew that wasn't fair to them.
Lafter knew when someone was really upset and she knew when not to playfully poke. Dad would understand more than anyone, but I hated reminding him of how he hadn't been there for me. That was more my hangup than his, but one boundary at a time.
Veda would always listen to me, but I wasn't sure she'd understand. I didn't want to put anything else on Dinah. Most of the other people I knew just weren't people I could talk to about this.
But I had to say it. I had to say it to someone before it ate me up inside and I just screamed.
Somehow, I knew Orga wouldn't do any of the things that made me nervous around everyone else. He didn't coddle me, pity me, or try to sympathize when I didn't trust anyone else to understand. He'd listen and give me what he honestly thought.
I wore so many masks and felt obligated to live up to them. Cape. Hero. Daughter. Friend. Mentor. Even mother. Honestly, cape life probably didn't help with the image we were all damaged because it was maddening when you got down to it.
Not with Orga. He never bought into any of my masks. He might not have been polite about it, but he took me for what I was. Who I was, under all the masks.
I didn't even know who that person really was, but it felt like he did.
I didn't want to be judged or analyzed. I didn't want someone to tell me what I really felt, or why, or what it all meant. I just wanted to be accepted. Finally accepted, again for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
And I couldn't stop myself. "I love her. She was the only person I needed and I thought she'd always be there. I-We were always together. It was us. Just us. We didn't need anyone else!"
Orga started to move around me and I covered my eyes with my arm.
The coffee table creaked as his weight settled onto it, and my mouth was still fucking running.
"We were always going to be together," I bawled. "No matter what. Her and me. School. College. We'd find boys and we'd always be there. Like gravity. No matter what it would always be us."
"It's not your fault," he said softly.
Emma already told me that. "We were sisters. I don't understand! Why wasn't that good enough for her? Why wasn't I good enough?! Because my mom died and I cried? Because I wasn't pretty enough or smart enough—"
He grabbed my wrist but he didn't pull it away. "Stop."
I laughed through the tears. "I can't stop! I can't!"
"It was her choice not to say anything. You didn't do anything wrong."
Emma told me that too. I heaved again, fought against the words. The words that made it hurt so much. That seemed like they'd never go away.
"I still love her. I still—I still want her!"
Orga grimaced, I think. It was hard to tell.
It got easier to breathe after I said it, lighter. It still fucking hurt though. I heaved a sob and said it again.
"I still love her. I want her in my life. She's my best friend. She's my sister. We did everything together and it all feels empty without her. I feel empty without her. And I don't know what broke first. D—Did I do something wrong? Was it all her? Could I have changed it? Armsmaster said not to blame ourselves for the things we couldn't change, but what if I could have changed it? How could I have changed it?!"
I'd wanted to tell her that. In the bathroom, while she just sat there ready and willing to take all the blame for everything. It wasn't a trick. I looked into her eyes and I knew; it wasn't a trick. There was no second shoe. No trap.
She seemed unlike her old self, but not that person who'd done everything she could to hurt me either.
"But I can't," I cried, "and I can't forgive her. I can't let it go. I can't forget. And it hurts so much worse because I want her but I just can't."
My voice faltered and I started sobbing. My chest hurt. My eyes hurt. I felt hot and cold all at once.
I dared to pull my arm away.
Orga looked back at me, his face long and pale.
He was the only one who could understand. The only person who had someone like Emma. Who might be able to understand what it would feel like, to have Mikazuki stab him in the back and betray him?
To still need him, no matter what she did, and know that there was no way she'd ever be part of my life again. As much as this hurt, it couldn't compare to the sheer terror of letting Emma back in. Of risking that it would happen all over again. Dying a second death in spirit and becoming... What?
I didn't know. I didn't want to know.
There was no going back.
Some things just can't be fixed once broken.
"It's okay."
I jerked, looking up at Orga questioningly. I didn't even know the answer I wanted from all of this.
He looked back at me and slid his hand from my wrist. He grasped my fist tight and nodded.
A nod.
I nodded back at him, and silently he nodded again.
That was enough. He understood. Someone understood what this felt like. Longing so much and fearing it at the same time. People didn't understand true betrayal. They got treated like crap or tricked or mocked. Friends left them in the dirt. Talked behind their back.
That wasn't betrayal.
It was petty and weak.
You had to love someone to feel true betrayal. To trust someone so completely, that every twist of the knife feels like dying all over again. You fight so hard not to let it get to you, but the truth is that it gets to you from the very first stab and every time I told myself I wasn't letting them win I knew deep down that they already had.
And I cried.
I heaved, sobbed, and cried. Like I did when my mother died.
Only worse.
Because I'd been holding the depths of it in for so very long.
A Waken 16.8.O
It sucked to be reminded how cruel the world could be. It's not like he didn't know. Somehow though, there was always something to emphasize the point.
He pulled the blanket over her shoulder as softly as he could. She stirred slightly, mumbling something before burying her face in the arm of the couch. She'd fallen quiet after a half-hour, and then seemingly asleep a bit after that.
Guess even the toughest girls could cry with the best of them.
Though, he'd never expected to see that face on her. Anguish and pain, bundled up in rage and disappointment. He'd seen it before, many times. On a cape, it was completely out of place. Especially Newtype… Taylor.
It was so easy to forget capes weren't all that different.
Despite feeling a bit put out, he thought he understood. Mika would never betray him, of course. He knew that to his core.
He supposed that's why he understood. It was unfathomable. Mika would never betray him like that. He knew it to his core.
Just like she knew that girl would never betray her.
Kind of impressive she hadn't cried more. If Mika ever did anything like that, Orga wasn't sure he'd be able to go on. Without Mika...
"Well," he mumbled under his breath. Raising a hand, he scratched at his head and looked away. "Now what?"
He wasn't sure what to do about it other than tell StarGazer where she was and turn out the light till she woke up.
Rising from the table, Orga turned and switched the light off. He'd get his work done somewhere else for now. He closed the door quietly with a sigh and—
"Whatcha doing?"
He jumped, almost hitting the wall as he turned. "Shino? Don't sneak up on me like that."
The boy grinned, arms crossed. "You have that hiding something face, boss. Makes me curious."
Orga grimaced, working very hard not to look at the closed door.
It probably took a lot out of her to let all that come to the surface. That was the kind of pain you buried deep and tried to ignore. That, they had in common.
Best if no one knew she was here. Newtype hadn't been that loud. Keep everyone out of the office and they'd have no reason to wonder why she was asleep on the couch.
Unfortunately, Shino was nosy.
"It's a surprise," Orga lied.
"A surprise?" Shino asked.
"Yeah."
"Don't go ruining it this time," a voice called from behind. A grin came to Orga's face, and he turned as Mikazuki approached. "It's for the kids."
"Oh. Gotcha." Shino laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "No worries. I can keep a secret."
Not really, though it's not like he could spoil what even Orga didn't know. He'd think of a surprise later.
Shino went on his way to 'keep the secret' and Orga sighed in relief.
Behind him, Mikazuki was watching the door curiously. "Actual secret," Orga warned. "Let it be."
"Important?"
More private than important, but there might not be much difference there. "Yeah."
"Kay." Mika looked away, revealing, "Forecast and StarGazer are downstairs." Orga's brow went up. "They said it was important."
Guess they already knew where their girl was.
Orga followed Mikazuki downstairs and out the back. Forecast sat on the loading dock with the White Haro that followed her around. StarGazer—Veda—stood beside her, staring up at the building in the direction of Newtype.
It was weird having her walking about, but it was easier in a way too.
Orga could read a face a lot better than a disembodied voice. At the moment, that face was worried. So worried he wondered why she hadn't simply rushed into the building.
He didn't have to wonder much.
Breaking down and bawling like that… Orga could never fathom doing it in front of anyone. Not even Mika. If he had to guess, Newtype didn't want to be seen that way by anyone. StarGazer would know that, right?
"Hey," Orga greeted. "What's up?"
"Kind of sad," Forecast commented idly. "The world can be so cruel to such a good person."
Orga's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure who you mean."
Forecast gave a small smile.
Figures the precog would already be aware. StarGazer had to know too. All the same, Orga couldn't bring himself to admit it. She came all the way over here to let all that out. Must have been holding it in for a long time. She'd all but asked him to keep it to himself and that's what he intended to do.
Her trust had been betrayed enough.
"What can I help you with?" Orga asked. At his side, Mika started unwrapping one of those chocolates he'd started carrying. "I'm not that busy but the crowd outside is getting bigger. I wanted to have a look at it and see if we needed to change anything."
StarGazer tore her eyes away from the building, looked at him, and then shifted her attention to Forecast.
"We need to hire you for a job," the precog revealed.
Orga cocked his chin up. "We? As in the two of you?"
"It's not that complicated," she answered. "But it'll be dangerous." She glanced at Mikazuki. "People will probably die before it's finished. I've found no outcome that doesn't have a cost."
Grimacing, Orga asked, "Does Newtype—"
"She can't know," Forecast said firmly. StarGazer held firm, to Orga's surprise. Were they doing something behind her back? That was…sobering, given what had just happened. "We're going after someone who could hurt her very badly, especially how she is right now."
"That is why we are going after him," StarGazer disclosed gravely. "Before he has a chance to hurt Taylor."
"She can't face this one," Forecast added. "He's too dangerous to her. Especially now."
"Now?" Orga asked.
"She's dealing with a lot. He'll use that against her." She raised her head, meeting Orga's eyes. "Taylor's protected all of us. This time, we have to protect Taylor."
"A cape?" Mikazuki asked.
She nodded. "A very dangerous cape, and his gang of assholes."
A group of capes?
Orga was reminded again that Newtype had never asked them to fight capes. It came with the territory of protecting her factory to a degree, but this sounded like an attack rather than defense...
"And what do you need from us?"
"Absolutely nothing."
Orga blinked. "Come again?"
Forecast looked ahead with a grim smile. "What I am going to do is tell you everything I'm going to do. What you do with that information is entirely up to you."
Orga pondered that odd statement and its implications. A quick glance at StarGazer wasn't very illuminating. She kept glancing at the building worriedly and said nothing.
"There's only one way to beat this guy," Forecast elaborated. "Hit him with what he can't see coming."
