Phewww are you guys lucky! I really should study for calculus, but noooo I came to the computer lab and wrote this.
Huehuehue.
For you ZenTsu shippers...
Disclaimer: Danbooooooruuu ru ru ru ru. (translation: cardboard, by MADAO)
^ you know the drill
Eyes of Wolves
- 57 -
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
Trust was something that Zenshi had not truly believed for a long time.
He "trusted" Mei and he "trusted" Tabs and he "trusted" Abuto.
He "trusted" Tsukuyo.
But who did he trust the least?
Paradoxically, that would be the man he trusted the most.
.: NINETEEN YEARS AGO :.
It rains forever, but despite the rain, it is the memory of his father and mother smiling that keep him alive.
So when there are wet footsteps at the door, he is a bundle of rare happiness that leaps into his father's arms.
He can't quite recall ever being angry at his father.
.: EIGHT YEARS AGO :.
He can't quite recall when he began to hate his father. Perhaps it was when the days grew shorter and his mother grew more and more forlorn, more dark and withdrawn.
"He's coming back," she says.
But when he does, Zenshi leaves.
He's broken hearts, just like his father has.
Perhaps that's why he resents his father. It's not just because they've been abandoned. It's because he's the same.
.: MAY, FOUR MONTHS AGO :.
It was a strange thing to see Kagura at the post office. She had a letter with no address, only a name. And the people of intergalactic mail made it their duty to find Umibouzu, whatever obscure planet he was monster hunting on.
Kagura, Zenshi discovered, had long since renounced her resentment.
Or rather, she had learned that it wasn't resentment, only loneliness. And the void, for the young Yato girl, had been filled. The existence of more people in her hearts had taught her the meaninglessness of her bitterness.
But he was still empty.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
Tsukuyo had only the time to comprehend a flash of light and four rather mismatched characters entering the room. The first she saw was an unfamiliar young man with a thin jaw and a partially crooked nose. He wore studded earrings and carried an umbrella at his waist. He was thin and lanky but strong — the first thing he did was rush to Mei and scoop her in his arms.
The second was a familiar face, one she'd seen up close in Yoshiwara. Abuto of the Harusame, looking harried but aggressive.
The third, with an expression of half dismay and half relief on his face, was the kind Jenhao. He still wore Sciuttlan civilian apparel, somewhat floral in his pastels.
And the fourth, unruffled and at ease in any situation, Zenshi's father.
His parasol at Kamui's head.
"By order of the Andromeda-Centaurus Allegiance, the Harusame is to cede all holdings in Sciuttla and disengage military combat efforts in alliance with Namawala Ezempi, leader of the military takeover."
Time was forever, and each breathing man or woman in the room felt crystals grow in their lungs, waiting for Kamui's answer.
"Politicians," Kamui said, "are great liars."
.: -East Tomokaz, Sciuttla- 30 Minutes AGO - :.
Uhuru Ominira was a woman determined to free her nation from the restraints of evil totalitarians. She was, and had been, the woman posted silently at the back of the meeting room turned commands station, watching the Yato and the guests debate.
When the young man with the black hair was gone, she approached the young human who had followed him out briefly.
"I can tell in your eyes," she said, "that you're not going to let him just go."
The human woman regarded Uhuru with suspicious but beautiful lavender eyes.
"But you are thinking of an excuse to go, are you not?"
Uhuru drew the young lady aside, momentarily blocking out Linter's aggravated debate with the soft-voiced Jenhao, two men she had become acquainted with well in the past months. They were crucial to the survival of this country, this planet. But she also deemed this young woman with golden hair to be just as important.
"I know," Uhuru said, nodding, "that when a woman like you wishes to protect something, she does so with all her heart."
A nod. Pleased with the response, the Sciuttlan woman grasped the Earthling by the arms gently, encompassing the younger with warmth.
"So protect away. Take the brown cotton ball human with you."
She gestured at the absentminded man with the sunglasses.
Tsukuyo didn't understand the rest of the woman's speech, for it was foreign and fancifully ornamented with non-Earthling phrases, but she knew its essence.
She would go.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"Admiral Kamui, do you understand exactly how long it takes for legislation to pass within the Yato government?"
"Government?" Kamui laughed.
"Yes, it indeed exists." Linter now had both a gun and a knife at Kamui's head and neck, respectively. "A bill introduced can expect a waiting time of years and years."
Over to the side, Tabs hauled Mei to her feet and wrapped his cloak around her midsection, hoping to stem the blood flow.
"Now," Linter continued, "do you understand what it means for this to pass through the AC Allegiance in only two years?"
"The Harusame—"
"It means that the galaxy is in grave danger. It means that congressmen and women have worked at light speed to pass an act that may very well save this end of the universe. Now, Admiral Kamui, riddle me this: Do you wish to upset the entirety of the Andromeda-Centaurus Congress?"
Kamui backed away from Zenshi, who barely clung to consciousness on the floor.
Politicians, he decided, were never to be trusted. Not the intergalactic kind, at least.
.: SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO :.
Droplets of rain cling to his jacket and his umbrella, but he shakes off the water and kneels to embrace his child because he is always, always there.
And when he leaves, he is never, ever there.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
"Abuto," Kamui said, deliberately slow. "How's...the weather over there?"
"Gloomy," responded the vice-captain. His fingers itched, as if he could feel the wax seal peeling away from the fated envelope he'd received ages ago. He remembered clearly the seal because it matched the one on Zenshi's umbrella hilt, and mirrored the one Linter wore on his ring. "Ninety percent chance of hail."
"Sir," Tabs whispered. "The rebel forces have responded and they're on the move."
Linter nodded. He lowered his weapons and took Kamui by the shoulder. The Yato boy was compliant, but far from docile. He wrenched himself away from the politician with savage ease, looking ferocious but willing to negotiate. Kamui was a lover of fights, but he was not stupid.
"The city of Des Koyasus has been half overtaken by the military government," Tabs continued. He was reading off of a mobile tablet, reeling across pages and pages of information that fed in from just about everywhere. News tabloids, on-site reporters, the rebel forces. He'd even hacked the military's radio line, an insurmountable feat. Tabs was not manager of the technicians without a reason.
"Hey, beanstalk, what's that?" Kamui asked, voice low.
"U-uh, it's a newsreel, sir." Tabs went straight as a board, clutching the tablet to his chest. He stammered a good few blurbs or so before Abuto saved him.
"I gave him permission to aid our politician friend here," sighed the vice-captain. "To save us the intergalactic trouble and make up for some of these...inconveniences."
Kamui's movements were dangerously slow, deliberate, thoughtful.
After some consideration, he nodded. "All right," he said, agreeing, "that doesn't seem too much of a problem."
Mei, who had been propped up against a wall beside Tabs, grabbed his trouser leg.
"You stupid Yato," she hissed weakly, "we're bleeding to death here."
At this point, Tsukuyo had discreetly crossed the room, and was holding Zenshi's head in her lap. Her face was pallid, all color drained, even from her lips. Eyes dark with terror and anxiety, knuckles fisted so hard they were white, she was still. She was so, so still, watching for the shallow rise and fall of Zenshi's chest, any indication that he was hanging on. She ran her fingers over his face lightly. He was warm.
"That's a scratch," Abuto replied jauntily. "You didn't lose an arm, did ya? Hey bud, you haven't lost any arms, right?"
"Gettin' close to losin' his whole lower half, sure," Tsukuyo answered vehemently, shaken momentarily from her shock.
"And what happened to Mutsu? She dead?" Kamui called. "Oh Mucchi!"
"I'm right here, you horse-face." Mutsu, having recovered from her heavy blow, sat up beside Sakamoto. "I'll mutilate your face, Kamui."
"She'll mutilate your face," parroted Sakamoto, nodding sagely. He was lucky Mutsu didn't spin around and sock him in the face. Instead, she rose to her feet and made her way over to Tsukuyo and Zenshi.
"Any medics?" Tsukuyo asked. She was bizarrely disoriented, feeling very little yet very much. Inside, a tornado of emotions was ripping all of her thoughts to shreds – she could only worry fifty times over about the torn-up Yato in front of her. But her body was frozen, immobile. She wanted to yell at someone to help her haul Zenshi to a medic, a nurse, a healer, anybody, but no one could hear her inaudible pleas.
Mutsu came to her aide.
"He's already healing, but he's lost a lot of blood." She surveyed the damage, slightly relieved that Kamui had stopped short of that final blow. "I doubt he'll be conscious for a while, even with a Yato's healing abilities."
Despite that, neither left the battle unwounded. Kamui, caught up in the battle, had not realized exactly how long they'd been fighting. He hardly noticed the splotches of blood on his side and legs, disregarding the way his silk clothing clung to his skin in dried, dark red patches.
Linter, for a split second, looked torn between reaching his son and keeping the Harusame under his control. The indecision vanished straightaway from his face.
"Rebels in Des Koyasus have scouted the forerunners of the army brigade," Tabs announced.
"Let's get ourselves organized, and then we'll deal with Sciuttlans," Linter instructed. He ran a hand through his dark hair and glanced at his son, tended carefully by his niece and the human girl. As he directed Kamui off the ship to the little space speed cruiser they'd arrived on, he noticed his son briefly regain consciousness and reach for the girl's hand.
And then the broken doors slid shut.
.: EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO :.
Unbeknownst to himself, he wants to look like his father. But many days, he hardly remembers his father's face ; he is only told that he resembles the man who is never home.
Now, however, he can't see a thing.
There are thin, prickly stitches that trace his right eye, and he cannot imagine his esteemed father looking anything like this.
.: SEPTEMBER, PRESENT :.
He bordered on consciousness, skating on a rim before losing balance and lunging back into the depths of unawareness. At some point, the hard ground beneath him became soft and bedlike, perhaps somewhere more safe. The last thing he truly recalled was his father, a silhouette that materialized behind Kamui. And then maybe Tsukuyo, but he couldn't quite tell.
Nonetheless, it was comfortable where he was, feeling empty and without a name. There were no lights to blind him, to walls to confine him. But there was the feeling of warmth on face, and his eyes fluttered open just long enough to see who had leaned over him, lips gingerly placed on his.
He fell back asleep, a shimmering trail of gold and lavender branded fiercely into the blackness.
Because
1) we all know only Gin can defeat everyone
and
2) tsukkiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
and
3) gosh darn you and your political power, Linter... HOW?!