Notes:

Chapter Title: illuminate - Minami

"I've never believed in giving up. What's the point of beginning something—being determined to do something—if you're just going to quit the moment you think it's impossible? Honestly, I'm pretty damn sure that's why this city hasn't gotten anywhere in the last eight years. We've got all these businessmen who think throwing money at the problem is going to solve it, and politicians who walk around with their heads stuck in the sand, pretending that something doesn't exist until it smacks them in the face.

Are you kidding me? Are these the people we're entrusting our future to?

Please. Every time someone tells me not to bother, it just bolsters my resolve. So no, I'm not going to stop until I've solved this, no matter what anyone says about me. It doesn't matter who my father was. What matters is what I do on this earth, here and now." —Nishikino Maki

The late summer sunlight cast dappled shadows on the park pathway as she passed underneath it, the shifting pattern of light and dark creating the sense of a balmy illusion beneath the treetops. Sweat was already beading on her brow, but Eli saw no reason to stop her jog through Tokyo's busiest park. She knew she was pushing it, but she wanted to feel the exhaustion. Fatigue was her goal.

It helped keep her from thinking too much.

The aftermath of Imori's arrest had been nightmarish. The reporters had pounced on the details of his incarceration with the ardour of a wake of hungry vultures, broadcasting every facet of information they could get their hands on—regardless of whether it was true or false—to the public. It hadn't taken long for every citizen in the district to know exactly what his personal files had contained. She didn't know who had leaked those files to the media, but Eli suspected the incidence wouldn't be the last.

Toujou had held exactly one press conference since the news had become public. She had deflected the questions with exanimate efficiency, her voice as hard as winter ice cracking on a river, and had blatantly refused to commentate on what she planned to do next. Eli had never seen her dismiss the media with such careless nonchalance, even though she knew what the violet-haired woman wanted to do.

However, there was a part of her that had understood. I would've been nervous enough, knowing that what I wanted isn't what most of the people in this city wanted. It would've taken me a long time to find the right words to express myself even if I wasn't afraid of their opinions, but before I could find a way to phrase things in a way that could've sounded somewhat sane, someone had to leak everything to the media. She remembered the resolve that she'd seen in Toujou's eyes, and Eli fervently hoped that what she had said to her wouldn't somehow be invalidated by the rest of the public opinion.

And of course, thoughts of Toujou segued right into the kiss.

Chaste as it was, the mere thought of it was enough to make her shake her head vigorously as though she could deny it had happened. There had been something so raw and intimate about it, even though it had lasted all of two seconds.

"I wanted to do that. Just once."

Eli had stood there, with her face and lips burning, for what felt like an eternity before she finally stumbled out of the conference room on numb, lifeless legs. Toujou had acted like nothing had happened between them ever since.

She didn't understand it, because none of it added up. How was it remotely possible that the leader of the Tokyo District was interested in her?

Eli finally stopped by the water fountain towards the centre of the park with her hands on her knees, chest heaving from the effort of running. Her stitches had finally been removed last week, which had caused Maki to give her a long list of explicit instructions and warnings about overexerting herself, but she was past caring about the redhead's medical advice at the moment. Weeks'—months'—worth of little hints suddenly burst forth from their hiding spots in her mind, and she tried to shut the door on them as though avoiding them and pretending they'd never happened would make them vanish.

Her distorted reflection in the fountain's pool stared back at her.

If she was one hundred percent honest with herself, Eli knew she shouldn't have been surprised, even though it still bewildered her that someone who had been born into the highest social standing their city currently had to offer would have even looked twice at her, let alone tried to find out the kind of person she was underneath the surface. Considering the nature their relationship had become recently, if it had been anyone else, she would've said that it was inevitable.

But not me—and not her. Why?

A better question was why she was even considering Toujou's implicit request to begin with when she had never really felt genuinely attracted to anyone in her life. Relationships of that nature had never been at the forefront of her mind—they had seemed meaningless, almost inconsequentially so, next to the weighted struggles of trying to find her sister, or the effort of just living.

Dating had felt like a waste of energy in comparison.

However, she couldn't deny that it sounded like an enticing idea in her head; even if the logistics of being in a relationship with the most powerful person in Tokyo didn't appeal to her, there was no way around what it would mean. But even if just the emotional connection with another person interested her, Eli had never allowed herself to be taken that way in her life.

The fact that it had the potential to go completely badly and end even worse was more than enough to make her stop the train of thought in their tracks then and there.

There was a part of her that was curious, though. Deep down, she knew there was a part of her that wanted to know what would happen if she said yes. Inevitably, inexplicably, they had both seen each other at their most vulnerable—and that, along with all the other conversations they'd ever had made it impossible to deny the connection—sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost—between them.

It was different from the kind of connection she had with Umi and Maki. Eli trusted both of her friends with her life, but to the best of her memory, the three of them had never had the kind of conversation she'd already had on more than one occasion with Toujou. Simply put, none of them were good at talking about their feelings, and that much more reluctant to share them. Toujou had the uncanny ability to make it impossible not to lay them out on the table.

What surprised Eli most was that she was willing to take her share of the load back. There had been much more to the district ruler than she had ever imagined before meeting her in person, and when she'd looked back, she realized it had been foolish of her to think that they had absolutely nothing in common. They were far more alike than she would've thought—or wanted to admit—and based on their personalities alone, she knew that sooner or later they would have to deal with what had happened the previous week. It was impossible for either of them to leave it hanging between them unaddressed for long, and eventually, one of them would have to take the first step to bring it up.

She wants an answer. The problem is, I don't know what that answer is, because I don't know what I want.

Maki gently prodded one of her specimens with the tip of a scalpel, satisfied with the results that she had just gotten. She took the pen out of her mouth and scribbled something down on her worn lab notebook, flipping back a few pages to make sure she had her data columns right.

Since she'd obtained several more cans of aerosolized Namidite from Honoka, she was positive that somehow, the answer to their Ceresis problems was contained in the little cans. The air particles were absorbed much more quickly than their liquid counterparts, and the spray was completely safe for anyone non-infected to breathe in, as they had been originally developed as a last minute deterrent for any bounty hunter who found themselves alone on the other side of the fence against a Ceresis. The problem with the sprays was that its contents were quickly snapped up by the wind, scattering and diluting them until the concentration was too low for it to be effective, which was why most bounty hunters and mercenaries preferred Namidite weapons.

But Maki was sure that could be altered, especially when airborne Namidite posed no health concerns to a healthy human. She had achieved more positive lab results with her half-a-dozen bottles of Namidite spray in the last few weeks than the last two years combined. If only we could figure out the concentration problem and how this is going to be distributed across the country, I know this could be the answer to Edenra.

Putting away the last of her samples in an incubator, she sat down on her rolling chair with her pen and notebook again, tapping the barrel of her pen against the side of the gurney she was using as a desk. How can we make it so that the concentration can't be decreased? She had a limited background in biochemistry, but she had a few contacts at the laboratory Honoka worked at that she could consult.

She stared at one of the offending spray bottles as she thought, absent-mindedly eating out of the beaker next to her with a fork. I know there's a solution in there somewhere.

As she swallowed her last mouthful of instant ramen, an idea came to her head. Pulling her notebook towards her once more, Maki flipped through it, wanting to make sure of her data before she picked up her cellphone and picked a name out of her contacts list.

"Hello?" she said once the call had connected. "Yes, this is Nishikino. I was wondering if your lab techs would be willing to do me a favour."

For the first time, a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She felt a faint but acute sense of triumph—something that had never happened before in relation to her research—as Maki waited for the lab manager to respond.

Just a few more adjustments, and then it'd be possible to make this work. The fingers of her left hand slowly clenched into a fist as unexpected nerves gripped her stomach. We have to.

Nozomi stared back into the dark brown gaze of her chief advisor. "No," she repeated firmly. "I can't allow that."

Fujiwara paced in front of her. "What's the point in pretending it hasn't happened?" he growled at her. "The information has already been made public, and support for the railgun module is growing. There are more than a few companies who have already contacted us to say that they're willing to sponsor it, and you'd be foolish not to take them up on their offer." He jerked his head up sharply as he paused in front of her desk. "President Tenjoin of Osaka is also requesting an audience with you to discuss the details of this particular plan. He wants an answer from you."

"Be as that may, I don't intend to agree with President Tenjoin," she replied delicately, fighting to keep her temper as she held the man's gaze. "He knows what answer I gave him previously. That hasn't changed."

Fujiwara threw up his hands in frustration as he stopped pacing altogether. "Don't you understand? What's at stake here is your public image. Do you honestly that think you'll be able to keep your position for much longer if you don't give the citizens what they want?"

She got up from her chair and smoothed out her dress before she brushed past him. "Only you would care so much about the notion of 'public image', Fujiwara-san," she told him blithely. "I'm going for a walk."

Ignoring his outraged sputter behind her, Nozomi shut the door on him as she made her way down the empty hallway of the district building. Though it was early September, the weather was still balmy and would probably remain that way for at least a few more weeks before autumn really took hold of the city.

She had absolutely no desire to go downstairs to the entrance hall of the building, already knowing that there would be anxious knots of politicians and reporters alike who would love nothing more than the opportunity to interrogate her about what she wanted to do next. She knew she had been uncharacteristically dismissive of them during the single press conference she had held after someone had leaked Imori's files to the media, but she didn't intend to rectify that mistake anytime soon. She had been so shaken by the revelation of the files herself that she hadn't had the chance to come up with a well-prepared defence to face the reporters with. Nozomi wished that she'd had more time, but she was also acutely aware of the fact that time was just another one of the things that she no longer had the luxury of.

More than once, she had considered entertaining the notion that the senate was pressing on her—agreeing to President Tenjoin's plan of a railgun module because it had been part of the plans that her father had left behind. But deep down, she knew that that was not the right reason to give in to their demands; every time she briefly considered the option, the words of a certain blonde came back to haunt her.

"I don't have the answer to your question. Not because I don't have an opinion, but because my opinion shouldn't matter. I think you know what you still want to do, but you're afraid of what might happen because of what you decide. What other people think doesn't matter. You said it yourself—at the end of the day, the decision is ultimately yours… so the only thing that should matter is how you feel about it. That's it."

She shook her head once at the thought of Eli. The motion dislodged a strand of violet hair from her forehead, and Nozomi wondered if it had been a mistake to pursue her. It had been clear from the way that Eli had avoided her gaze the few times that she'd seen her the past week that she hadn't been expecting it.

If truth was told, she didn't know where it had come from herself. It had been impulsive, borne by the tumultuous consequences of the emotions that she had struggled to keep to herself for days, but she would be lying to herself if she said she had regretted it—especially in that moment.

But the look in Eli's blue eyes had been more confused rather than offering outright rejection, and for the umpteenth time, she wished that Eli wasn't so painfully easy to read. The expression on her face had made Nozomi more uneasy than if she'd just said no.

What could there be about my intentions that she doesn't understand? Nozomi didn't think she could've made them more clear than she had, which begged the question—if Eli knew what her intentions were, then what was it that was preventing her from giving her an answer?

The question had lingered in her mind for the better part of a week, chasing itself around in circles. She still hadn't been able to come up with a plausible—reasonable—answer to it yet.

When she reached her intended destination, Nozomi stopped abruptly when she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair leaning forward against the stone railing of a gazebo. She had forgotten that she'd given Eli access to the garden at the back of the district building as neither of them had had a reason to visit it in the past few weeks, but it was clear that Eli had also chosen this particular spot to escape the ever-scrutinizing gaze of her advisors after being asked to come in to investigate the source of the unfortunate information leak.

It was too late to turn back now, because the sound of her footsteps had caused Eli to turn around. Their eyes met inadvertently as Nozomi held a hand up to dismiss the pair of security guards following behind her.

Taking a breath, she followed the pathway that led up to the pavilion, stepping into the shade of the trees that surrounded it. She was somewhat surprised when Eli opted not to move away from her, instead carefully keeping her gaze trained on the grove of maples in the distance.

She had expected silence to hang between them for a long time, reminiscent of some of their previous conversations when neither of them had known what the right thing to say was, but this time, that was not the case.

After a few minutes, Eli slid her elbows back against the rough stone and straightened up, though she still wasn't looking at her. "So," she began, stumbling somewhat on the syllables as though she wasn't sure how they would be received, "we should talk."

The ghost of a smile played at the corner of Nozomi's lips. "What would you like to talk about?" she asked, endeavouring to keep her voice light, though she knew what was coming.

Eli exhaled a faint snort through her nose. "You know what."

Nozomi laughed softly as she glanced behind them, making sure her security guards were a respectable distance away from them. "I do indeed," she replied serenely. Her voice was calm, but slight wave of nausea rose at the back of her throat. Somehow, she felt more nervous about the coming conversation than she had facing a roomful of senators who disagreed with her opinion, although she had a sneaking suspicion she was not alone in that sense.

Finally, Eli looked at her. Nozomi watched her swallow a few times before taking a deep breath. "Before I… say anything, can I ask you something?"

She raised an eyebrow delicately at her underneath her dark bangs. "Hm?"

The blonde took another sharp breath before she spoke, her words precarious and tentative. "I just… want to know—why me? You… literally could've picked anyone you wanted in this district. I'm sure there are more than enough people who could offer you anything you want and also have the power and money to make sure that your plans for the future of this city happen. So… next to that, why me?" she repeated quietly.

The smile from earlier morphed into something genuine as Nozomi turned to fully face her. "Because that's not what I'm interested in," she said simply. "I thought you knew me better than that, Eli. No matter what anyone in this district says they can promise me, it wouldn't be anything I wouldn't be able to obtain myself. I'm not looking for someone who only has the influence to back up what they claim to want to do. You know as well as I do that there's always an ulterior motive behind the intentions of the people you're referring to."

The expression in the cerulean gaze staring back at her was still hesitantly bewildered. "But… that's true of anyone. Even me," Eli replied uncertainly.

"I don't disagree with that," Nozomi acknowledged evenly, "but the difference is that the things you wanted weren't for your own sake. I believe that you were the one who told me that you chose to make the decisions you did because it was the right thing to do?"

"I-" The blonde tried to argue with her, but she cut her off.

"I told you very early on in our relationship that you intrigued me," Nozomi reminded her in a steady voice. "I told you that unlike most of the people around me, who have spent years perfecting the art of hiding how they feel and what they think, you were very expressive with your thoughts and emotions. When we met for the very first time, you weren't looking at me because of the position I held. You were looking at me because you were trying to decide what kind of person I was."

The fleeting expression that passed through Eli's blue eyes at her statement only served to confirm her assertion and somehow cemented in her chest the words she wanted to say next.

"I wasn't lying to you, you know, when I told you that I'd never met someone who did the things you chose to do without even considering what she might be able to ask for in return," she went on gently. "But it was clear from your responses that the thought never even crossed your mind."

She paused. "Eli. I don't want someone to give me the money or the power to create the future I want to see for this city to use for their own benefit. I want someone who's not afraid to tell me why something is the right thing to do, not for herself, but for the people that that decision really matters for. I want someone who understands why I want the things I do for this city, not because there's something in that future for her, but because she understands why the past can't be repeated."

Nozomi was sure the sorrow in Eli's eyes was reflected in her own when she finished. Silence enveloped the space around them as they stared at each other for several long moments that could've lasted the span of single heartbeat or stretched onwards in countless minutes, before Eli finally looked away.

"I… didn't realize that was how you felt about me," she finally murmured.

Nozomi shook her head slightly, fighting the smile that threatened to make a reappearance on her face. "Does that answer your question?" she asked her in a soft voice. The question came out serene and composed, but apprehensive energy jangled underneath the surface.

Wordlessly, Eli nodded. It was awhile before she looked up again. Nozomi noticed the anxious way her slender fingers were knotted together before she forced herself to relax. "I guess… what it really comes down to is that I'm scared."

"Scared?" Nozomi echoed. "I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me if I have a hard time believing that. Are you sincerely trying to tell me that after all this time, you're afraid of me?"

"No!" Eli held her hands up in a flustered, defensive posture; taking a step backwards she shook her head. "That—wasn't what I meant. I'm not scared of you," she clarified. "It's just—I've… never done this before."

Nozomi looked at her imploringly, unable to hide her amused skepticism at her words. "You can't really be trying to tell me that no one has ever confessed to being attracted to you."

Eli pushed the fingers of one hand through her blonde hair. "No, of course not," she said slowly, the tone of her voice belying the words of her sentence. "But… you don't even know me that well! You don't know half the things I've gone through or done. You haven't seen me when I—" She cut herself off; Nozomi wondered if it was because she'd realized what she'd been about to say and had remembered that it wasn't true anymore.

"Is that something I need to be concerned with right this minute?" Nozomi asked her delicately. "Of course, you're right—that in the grand scheme of things, I don't know you that well. But I don't need to know every facet of your life to know what kind of person you are, because it was evident from the things you asked me that you care deeply about the people you love. Besides," she continued softly, "we all carry our past with us. Whatever happens in relation to it, I think we can deal with that when the time comes."

Eli looked down at the ground underneath their feet, shaking her head again. "I don't know. I mean, what if something goes wrong and you end up hating who I am? What do we do then?"

"And we're both adults," Nozomi told her. "Mature ones at that, I presume. Unless this is your way of trying to let me know you're not interested?"

It really was endearing how easily Eli got flustered as Nozomi watched a faint splash of colour appear on her cheeks. "What?" she stammered. "N-No, that's not it!" Taking a step back, Eli's blonde bangs fell into her face as she stared back at her, blue eyes conflicted. "It just… surprised me," she confessed at last after several minutes of silence. "Because it made no sense that you would be interested in me."

"It doesn't have to make sense," Nozomi said quietly. "It's the truth. You're the one who told me that I shouldn't discount how I feel about something."

Eli opened her mouth to argue again, but at that point, she didn't want to bother with any more explanations. Closing the distance between them, she tilted her head up until their foreheads touched, undeterred by Eli's stiffness or the way her hands had balled into fists, and kissed her.

It was a soft, lingering question of a kiss. Nozomi reached down to loosen the tension in her hands. She was not surprised to find Eli's fingertips were warm. Given their physical proximity, she was convinced it was possible for the other woman to feel the frantic pace of her heart in the limited distance between them until she finally felt Eli relax enough to reciprocate.

The moment seemed to draw out endlessly, obliterating the last remnants of the invisible barrier between them.

"Mmm. Okay," Eli finally murmured against her lips.

"Okay… what?"

"Okay, I'll give this a try."

It was hard to remember how to breathe properly over the sudden burn in her chest and the prickle of nerves against her skin. "Would this be an inappropriate time for me to state that you won't regret it?"

Eli laughed softly. She looked down at their joined hands briefly before she disentangled them gently. "You might," she replied with an arched brow.

"Somehow, I don't think so," Nozomi told her, though there was a serious note underneath her otherwise light tone of voice. She turned to face the greenery that surrounded them, breathing in the earthy, humid air of late summer. She felt light—even elated—and for the first time in two weeks, it felt possible to go back into the district building and face the politicians that demanded an answer she did not want to give from her.

They stood in companionable silence for awhile, until Eli broke it.

"What are you going to tell—you know, your advisors?" she asked. "I've never been under the impression that they liked me very much."

It was her turn to laugh. "Why don't you leave worrying about that up to me?" Nozomi asked her. "They don't like you for the exact reasons that I do like you, so I wouldn't put that much faith into their assessment of you if I were you. You see, they're afraid that I'll find out what really goes on in this city outside of the walls of this building if I hear the news from anyone but them and the media."

It felt liberating to finally be able to discuss the root of her problems with someone else that she trusted and wasn't inherently biased one way or another. She had spent years tiptoeing around various politicians because she knew with absolute certainty that she was just another powerful pawn in their game, but Nozomi knew better to voice that assertion aloud. When those same politicians had realized that it wouldn't be as easy as they thought it would be to manipulate her, they had resorted to giving her a hard time, especially when their agendas did not align. She was also just as certain that several of her advisors came from the same vein, though, of course, that was just one more thing she could share with no one but herself.

Eli frowned. "Wouldn't that just create more problems for you if they find out, then?"

"It would, except I'm neither looking for nor do I need their approval," she replied nonchalantly. "Although, that is one thing I would like to warn you about. Once this becomes more public knowledge, as it inevitably will, there will be people coming to you instead of me. I trust that you know how to handle yourself, but you should prepare yourself regardless."

Eli nodded once in response. Nozomi could tell by the set of her features that she knew exactly what she was talking about—perhaps had even thought about it in advance.

The two of them were interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps on grass, and Nozomi narrowed her eyes at the sight of one of her attendants nearly stumbling over his feet in his urgency to reach her. He bowed hastily in front of them and was unsuccessful in completely hiding his curious glance in Eli's direction before he opened his mouth. "T-Toujou-sama," he greeted her.

"Yes?" she inquired lightly. She did not like the consternation that clung to him like cobwebs. Even though he was a few feet away from them, the nervous energy around him was obvious.

"It's President Tenjoin. He came over from Osaka this morning when you didn't respond to his request for an audience, and he's demanding to see you this afternoon. He's here now."

Nozomi furrowed her brows at the thought of older man's impatience and she was acutely aware of the way Eli tensed beside her as she turned back to her attendant. "Thank you," she told him. "Tell him I'll be there to meet him in half an hour."

He bowed again before he rushed off back in the direction of the district building.

"What are you going to do?" Eli asked her quietly once he was out of sight.

She sighed. "I'll have to meet with him, I suppose. He turned up in Tokyo because he knew it would reflect poorly on me if I don't meet with him while he's here. Essentially, he's trying to stop me from avoiding him because he wants an answer from me."

Eli's aquamarine gaze was troubled. "Are you avoiding him?"

"No," Nozomi replied, "but the less time I have to construct an appropriate answer for him, the more likely he thinks he can intimidate me into doing what he wants." She tightened a gloved hand into a fist momentarily before she relaxed it, putting to voice a suspicion that had lurked at the back of her consciousness for two weeks. "I'm sure that somehow, he was responsible for leaking those files to the media. I have no proof apart from my assessment of his personality, of course, but it's something I know he would do."

"Would you like me to be there, then?" Eli offered instantly.

Nozomi looked at her intently. "I… wasn't going to ask. But bear in mind, he most certainly knows who you are and what you do. He may have even had a hand in the attempt on your life. Knowing all that, is this a risk you're willing to take?"

The resolve in Eli's expression was impossible to miss. Nozomi had seen that look on her face before, once when they had been discussing the topic of her sister, and once when they had spoken about her hopes for Tokyo's future. But this time, she knew it was there not because she felt obligated to, but because she understood what was at stake.

"Yes," Eli told her.

She nodded. "Then let's go."