Three Day Storm
#11: Separation Anxiety
X X X
"Ready for some fresh air, Ginji?"
They're words that are soft-spoken and inherently kind; spoken in a voice he inherently remembers from his childhood. He doesn't need to look to the man to know that the tone matches the eyes that watch him closely.
There's times when he misses that voice more than anything else in the world.
He doesn't know who sent for Teshimine, but he's grateful that they did.
The question earns a small nod from the brunette and he turns to offer a smile, sliding out of the bed and onto his feet. It comes with the slight unsteadiness that he knows is from lying down for too long, though it passes quickly enough that he doesn't need to worry about it.
"Good," Teshimine appraises. He disappears from sight and Ginji can hear him telling Gen that they're going for a little walk. He uses the time to make sure his clothes are alright, and to pull on a jacket in case it gets windy outside. By the time he's ready, Teshimine is waiting by the door, Gen watching them absently as he fusses around the kitchen.
With a wave to the Pharmacist he obediently leaves the apartment, embracing the fresh air of the long balcony beyond the door. Moving to the edge, he settles his hands on the railing and studies the always-familiar world of the Limitless Fortress.
"Everything's so wet," he remarks, looking back to Teshimine.
The older male pulls the door shut behind him before coming to join Ginji, slightly bemused at the sight of the water-logged courtyard far below. "Perhaps we will have to forego the park," he answers.
Ginji doesn't quite hear him – he's staring upwards, face painted with a frown. "The sky is still dark," he murmurs.
"Hm?" Teshimine copies the motion and looks up himself. Ginji's right – the thick clouds are still black with thunder and anger, hanging low around the Fortress like a shield.
"It's not storming anymore," Ginji continues, with a brief glance to his companion, "But the sky is still dark... the clouds aren't going away. Something is wrong." He hopes that Teshimine understands his concerns.
He's rewarded by the gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your friends will be alright, Ginji," he's told, "You must believe in them."
"I do, Teshimine," Ginji insists, "Ban never surrenders a job."
"And he will not surrender this one," Teshimine tells him. "Nor will the others. They will fix the things that are wrong, and they will get back the Emperor for you."
It's here that Ginji has the urge to move away just a little, turning mournful eyes onto his mentor. "But Teshimine... I don't know that I want the Emperor back."
X X X
The Lightning Emperor of the Limitless Fortress was not a man adjusted to walking behind others, even when he was not sure where he was going. It bothered him that he had no choice, here – he could not object to being lead by this self-titled God. This child's body was too weak to be any good in a confrontation and he did not yet know the capacity of his enemy.
He knew there was unspeakable power within that small frame: it had forced him to leave Ginji, he had been made to manifest someone else. That was all he knew, for now. It was not enough to justify a reckless attack.
It did not surprise him that they soon arrived at the same room as before, with the poor lighting and the smell of soil thick in the air. It also did not surprise him that the little man took immediate position on the dias, where the lighting was a little better. He did not follow, choosing instead to stay halfway between the dias and the entrance.
They watched each other in a long, drawn out silence, until the God cleared his throat and gestured to their cloaked environment. "Like much of Babylon City, this is a room without limitation. This is a room close to the heart of the City itself, and a training ground for those amongst us who fight."
"Your story is boring," the Emperor told him in a flat voice. "I do not care for the City."
The God had paused, indignant and being interrupted. He soon smiled, the expression malicious as he eyed off the small, female frame across from him. "Is that so?" he said with a smirk. "Perhaps you should, then."
The Emperor watched him through narrow eyes, prepared to take on the man no matter the consequences – but paused as a tingling feeling swept across his skin. There was no visual cue in this dark room, no sound... but the Emperor knew that something was coming for him.
He threw himself to the side in time for a thin metal disc whip past – he'd barely seen it when it had already vanished into the murky dark of the room. The Emperor straightened, senses hyper-alert for the next attack. He was quickly deciding that this new body was a poor fighter – it was too tense in waiting, it did not react to him the way that Ginji did. Ginji knew his limits, knew when a little bit of a push was needed, or when to pull back so that his strikes were accurate.
He didn't see the next attack until it was almost too late; the disc had returned with three new friends. In dodging this volley the Emperor used far more energy and time than he liked, the body already breathing lightly as he straightened after the attack.
There was little time to recover; his left shoulder stung with pain as a single disc sliced it open in a split-second before disappearing. The blood seeped down his arm, staining the shirt fabric and proving the final straw.
The Emperor did not like to bleed.
He made a decision to ignore the threat of the discs, turning towards the God on the far side of the room. "You have chosen a poor host," he accused.
"Or the Emperor is a poor fighter," came the retort.
""I am not staying in this body," the Emperor said matter-of-factly.
By this point the air around him had thickened with electricity; the light giving some clarity to the room as it zapped across his body. The air itself seemed to hum as it intensified quickly, forcing the God to shield his eyes as the light engulfed the Emperor's small form. Distantly it sounded as though the heavens themselves were breaking open upon the Limitless Fortress: heavy thunder crashed across the building and the room shook.
In a vivid display of power, a lightning bolt erupted from the Emperor and snaked its way upwards, forcing the ceiling to split as it escaped towards the sky. The sound was deafening – it would be heard all across Shinjuku.
After a time impossible to measure the raw electric power began to fade, the room gradually going darker and darker until the only light left was the Emperor's glowing form. The sharp brown eyes and spiked blonde hair were imitative of Ginji, purely for the familiarity. Head bowed, he sank to his knees in exhaustion, shoulders sagging as he fought to not only stay conscious, but also to keep hold of the frail form in his arms.
By virtue of Babylon City's infinite possibilities, the Lightning Emperor had achieved what no-one had ever imagined he could do – true, complete independence.
The God could only watch in delight.
X X X
With the little snake charm hiding in his pocket and nothing but pure pitch-black to stumble his way through, Ban had long ago decided that if he'd gotten as little as one yen every time he wished for a cigarette, he'd have had enough to hire someone to make sure he always had a full pack. He was feeling decidedly irritable about the shenanigans of having to go through a Virtual Reality world again, to fight foe again, to save someone else's ass again, to get lost in the Belt Line again, and essentially never get to the damned Babylon City.
Yes, he definitely needed a cigarette.
Or a glow-in-the-dark map. That would have come in handy too.
He'd kept one hand on the wall ever since the door had slammed shut behind him, the texture coarse and rocky under his fingers. Compared to just marching forwards it was no doubt a slower technique in finding the exit, but it was preferable against the option of getting totally lost in a world where he couldn't see a damn thing.
Naturally, when he turned a corner and was greeted by the too-bright shine of an exit, Ban took a moment to dedicate a curse specifically to the anonymous jerk who was trying to ruin his eyes.
Moving towards this potential escape route Ban kept one hand on the wall, taking note that just like the surface under his fingers, the ground under his feet was gaining a steadily more uneven texture. After a few more steps, his head was brushing against an extraordinarily low ceiling, causing the male to duck sharply and glance upwards suspiciously. Discovering that it was in fact a ceiling, a quiet snort left the man as he realised the nature of the VR environment.
Staying at a slight crouch to avoid any further encounters with the ceiling, he moved through the exit, took one look at the new world, and sighed. "A lousy mountain."
Didn't they know he was a veteran of this shit?
X X X
Teshimine was watching him with an expression that he didn't quite understand and didn't want to question. Instead he stared at the handful of people in the courtyard three stories below, shoulders slumped in personal shame. He knew this made him a bad person – his friends were risking their lives to achieve a goal he didn't share.
"What ... makes you say that, Ginji?" he asked eventually.
Ginji was reluctant to answer at first, but he knew Teshimine – he knew that he would have to answer eventually. "Well... if he was hurt I would want to help. But I don't think he is, Teshimine. If he was hurting then I'd know it. I think... I think he likes where he is."
"How can you be sure?"
"I'm not," he answers honestly, watching the tiny figures of two children race leaf-boats down a drain. "But he isn't looking for me, and I'm not compelled to look for him, either. I do miss him, but... maybe he's happy being this way."
"Ginji..."
"It's okay, Teshimine," he assures him, "Ban will fix things no matter what, and maybe he'll find the Emperor too. If he doesn't find him, that's okay too."
"Are you sure that's how you want things to be?"
"Yeah." He can tell that Teshimine doesn't really grasp why he's choosing this path... but that's alright. Ginji knows that things will work out for the best. They always have.
X X X
To be continued.