Tap, tap, tap.
Through the rain they went, their footsteps heavy against the muddy ground. The sun had already gone down at this point, letting the night roam free and feast on Terra's corrupt carcass. Splattering muck everywhere, Andy kept his gaze locked at some invisible point in front, refusing to look at his comrade. Clutching onto his coat, desperately covering himself with the fabric, he tried his very best to calm down and stop his teeth from chattering. He was covered in mud and blood from head to toe, turning his gray curls a deep shade of brown. By his side, Ines followed, taking quick glances at the boy every now and then. She could clearly feel just how pissed he was. How shaken and terrified out of his mind that whole ordeal from before made him. Well, tough luck. It wasn't her fault.
Or so she thought, at least. Besides, she even took the liberty of carrying the brat's guns for him, so he wouldn't have to burden himself with the additional weight. He should be thanking her, honestly.
She opened her mouth to voice her opinion, but was quickly shushed by Andy's swift arm movement.
"Shh."
She straightened her back and looked at him with slight confusion painted over her ever so detached face.
"... Before you say anything: no."
"But…"
"You're not using me as bait, ever again."
They continued onward in complete silence.
Tap, tap, tap.
…
Tap, tap, tap.
…
"... I still think it was a good plan. Poorly executed, sure, but…"
"Oh, shut up."
Not a single word was uttered during their excruciating walk back to camp.
…
Tap, tap, tap.
…
Gathered under a wide tarp connected to three freestanding pine trees, W and Hedley were discussing their next big move towards complete inland merc market domination. Hunched over a wide map of the entire country, illuminated by an originium powered lamp, W kept drawing out the most surreal of lines and arrows, pointing all over the place. Once they noticed the two approaching, neither even bothered to bat an eye.
"How about… From the west, like this?"
"Shredded to pieces."
"Pffft… East? From the back?"
"Rear guard."
"Oh my… Then come up with something, big guy. Why am I the only one doing any thinking 'round here? Fuuuh… Lawboy's back."
The white haired devil snapped his fingers and called him over with a gesture, choosing to stay oblivious to Andy's deplorable condition. Ines followed suit, dropping his guns to the ground nonchalantly.
"We got a nice job lined up, Lawie, but the thing is…"
"We don't have a job. We just have a piece of information. A rough diamond still requires a serious amount of processing before it-..."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks, Hedley. Anyway, thing is, we don't really know how to approach this son of a bitch. See, it's a, uh… A little transport."
Andy tilted his head in confusion.
"Transport? Like, logistics, again?"
"No, no, we're not the ones doing the transporting, not this time."
In the background, Ines kept pacing around the place, looking for anything even half edible. She stumbled upon a large cauldron full of a clear liquid, and after sniffing the substance multiple times, turned back towards the boys.
"The hell is this? I thought I asked you two to make dinner…?"
Both W and Hedley lifted their heads and looked back at the suspiciously caprinae-like sarkaz. The shorter of the two rested his hands against his hips and spoke up in a sassy tone.
"And we did, thank you very much. You know how difficult it is to make something edible on a tight budget?"
"Tight budget? We just claimed the Hangman's Club bounties, I sent you morons to town to get supplies and…"
"... And ammunition costs, missy! Plus grenades, obviously, can't forget to stock up on my quick way out tickets."
"..."
She remained silent for a moment or two.
"... So you blew it all on bullets and grenades."
Hedley shifted and cleared his throat.
"And medicine. Bandages and such."
"... Ammo, grenades and bandages. Great."
With an exasperated sigh, she turned back towards the cauldron, sticking her finger into the clear liquid and licking it clean.
"What even is this? Has no taste."
W's pointy ears perked up.
"Salt soup! My specialty. Just that, I had to find some sorta substitute for the salt, uh-huh."
"So it's just water?"
"Well, no, obviously not! Water, some gun oil, a whole bunch of pine needles… Some bugs probably flew in when I wasn't looking, too."
"..."
She kept staring down into the bottomless pit of this revolutionary culinary conquest. Without a word, she grabbed a bowl and dunked it in the soup, leaving the three to their impious scheming and heading for her tent. W gave a long, dreamy sigh and turned to his redheaded companion.
"... Women, am I right? Always so picky, so refined…"
"Shut it."
It was a soft, gentle order.
"Right. Can't be badmouthing your-..."
"Shut it, I said."
This time, a tad bit less gentle. W shrugged and turned back towards the map, continuing his surreal artistic expression. With a red marker, he was now drawing a little cartoony version of himself, sporting his signature assault rifle, towering over a mountain of skulls.
"... So, as I was saying, anyway. Transport, yeah? Big opportunity, high risk, high reward. We're gonna need some of your Lawful insight, though, Lawboy."
Andy blinked a few times at the sudden mention of his person.
"What?"
"Uh-huh, you heard me. This is a Lateran transport! Gun fellas collecting scraps from the war, the, uh… The holy weapons, they send them back home, no?"
Andy nodded. He knew the war had already officially ended a year or so ago, thanks to a certain recidivist/pacifist movement back home forcing the Pope's hand to withdraw any and all troops ("Thanks, dad.")
"Patron firearms, yeah."
"Patron firearms! What a dumb name. Anyway, if there's one thing I truly enjoy in life, it's killing you, Lawies, by the dozen. And it just so happens that raiding these little transports combines both business with pleasure."
He gave a toothy grin and tapped the boy encouragingly on the back.
"So, now that we have you here, what's the plan, huh? How do we approach? I've already exhausted my ideas, and Mr Know-It-All here can only criticize, not make any schemes of his own."
Hedley simply shrugged and crossed his massive arms.
"I still think it's a pointless hit."
"Pointless my ass, we're gonna be swimming in cash after this one. C'mon, Lawie, these are your buddies, there's gotta be some major weakness, no?"
Andy kept staring at the map, silently tracing the transport's route along the open Kazdelian wildlands. He has fully succumbed to the mercenary lifestyle, that much might be true, but turning his own gun on another sankta? That's a bit overkill.
"Yeah, I… I think I'll sit this one out."
"What?"
"What?"
Both devils turned towards the boy, confusion painted over their faces.
"What do you mean "sit this one out"? Do you realize how much dough this'll bring us?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you want out? Seriously?"
He wasn't grinning like a maniac, smirking smugly or even fuming with rage. For the first time since they met, Andy saw W being genuinely disappointed.
"Sorry, man, no-go. I'm not shooting at my own folk"
"You're afraid to what, grow horns and a tail? Come on…"
Despite trying his very best to keep up that upbeat behavior, W's aura was beginning to dim.
"... You're really serious about this?"
"Yup. But I can always join you guys after you're done, yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure."
W grumbled some more under his breath and turned back towards the map.
"Didn't know you were such a pussy. But, anyway…"
For some weird, unknown reason, the man seemed genuinely hurt. A complete revelation to both Andy and Hedley, witnessing this messed up pile of madness showing some sort of human emotions, as childish and immature as they were. Feeling unwelcome at their table, Andy left to wash off the dirt from his clothes and hair. His thoughts dimmed and darkened as he sat in the dull embrace of his tent, eating a bowl full of what was essentially boiled water with twigs.
The taste didn't matter to him nearly as much as the man's words of disappointment. Here, in the intimate privacy of the tarp covering him from all sides, he could freely lay down and ponder the day's events, from the very start to finish. The hound hunting escapade that almost turned dire, when Ines seemed to have forgotten about him for a hot minute as he ran around with a starving pack of houndbeasts on his tail. The grueling walk back to camp through the rain, their meeting with a rivaling merc group, the lengthy, tedious process of burying their bodies beneath the public forest route and lastly, the talk from a few moments before. It was just one job, after all. Only a couple of days when he would be out of action, waiting for the rest to finish their business. That's a lot of money passed up, sure, but it's still better than being marked as an outLaw. Andy couldn't even imagine the process of growing a pair of horns like Ricketts'. Would that even hurt? Would it happen painlessly, during the night? He had no idea. No intent to check, either.
As his mind wandered, his hand dove once again into the most intimate of confinements, his cargo pants' pocket, reaching for a familiar photo. With just a few glances, he couldn't help but start yearning for a future spent among the tallest and brightest towering skyscrapers of Laterano, reaching far beyond the bleak clouds. With the gentle wind on his face, he would skip along the pristine streets of pure white, a mere drop in the endless ocean of innocent souls filling the city. A sankta among his own, feeling right at home, right where he rightfully belongs. He'd roam the districts, passing by avenues and boulevards, ambling towards a place so warm and sweet. Passing the hooting fowl of the night, ignoring the reaper's cold gaze on his back, he'd turn towards a small alleyway and slide down a silver drainpipe, landing in a strangely familiar backyard. Surrounded by blocks of pure marble instead of the usual tenement houses, a large doorway in front was the only way out. The source of this unspeakable warmth and sweet smell. The smell of fresh pastries.
Within mere moments, he found himself in that same exact hallway, heading towards that exact same door. Every night, he passed by the wall of photographs, the melting furniture and fuzzy carpets, so soothing and soft. Away from the guilt, from the tragedies of the world, he laid down on the couch and gently rested his burdened head on her lap, letting his entombed worries seep right out from deep within. With his eyes closed, his breath steady and calm, he felt a warmth so serene and pure, so right and calming at his very core. Filling him entirely, enveloping in an embrace of genuine tenderness and benignity, he felt as if he could die at the very moment and he'd welcome death with arms wide open. The only regret of his would be the short lived nature of the moment.
A few gentle, slender fingers slid into his gray curls, tracing alongside his scalp and twirling his hair in between. How nice it felt, being cared for so intimately, showered with boundless, unconditional love…
Love.
A strange word, completely alien to him. So surreal and absurd when thought of during the busy day, yet so simple and straightforward in this realm of nightly intimacy. What was a mere bashful thought during those long, grueling hours spent out in the dim sun of Kazdel became nothing less than a holy truth he lived by, in the embrace of a person who did not exist. If such grim was the reality, why were the growing feelings deep within so tangible and authentic? Why would his heart always start beating right out of his chest at the mere sight of her bright, orange eyes? At the lightest of touches, at the slightest of brushes of his fingers against her soft, silky hair. He could never grasp, more so explain these strange phenomena, opting to bury them deep amidst the bottomless pits of his mind. Here, however, it all felt so simple. So nice and most importantly, real.
His eyelids slowly rose from their lazy slumber, granting him the sight he so hopelessly longed for each night. The softest of smiles, adorned by a blush so gentle and sincere, covering the tiny hills of her cheeks like a carpet of poppies covers a meadow during the warm Lateran summer. Her gentle, half-lidded gaze, locked right on his face, giving him her undivided attention. Waterfalls of light crimson hair cascading down her shoulders, and hanging mere centimeters above his face sent flocks of butterflies to ravage his insides. Her bright, golden halo - the only beacon of light amidst the never ending darkness.
Andy reached out and tenderly grasped the side of her small face, cupping her cheek in a loving manner. The corners of his lips stretched upwards, returning her warm smile with one of his own. Her skin felt so unnaturally soft and fragile under his touch, so delicate, like a fawn's hide. This moment was everything he's ever longed and yearned for. His entire world, the very meaning and purpose of his life, the one singular force driving him forward. It was just him and her, nothing else.
Just his Lemuel. His Lemmy. A perfectly fabricated image.
That was, until the loud clanging of two pans being banged against one another would wake him from the slumber.
But no pan-noise came that day. He woke late, a good half an hour after his lively alarm clock would usually make an appearance. Having left the embarrassing thoughts and confessions in the safety of his tent, he went out to face the bleak reality.
"..."
The morning felt unnaturally calm. No yelling, no arguing, not even any obscenities coming from any of the world's four directions. Nothing.
Out of desperation, he poked his head into Ines' tent.
"Y-... What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Relax! I just wanted to ask-..."
"Get the hell out! Out!"
Having thrown a few dirty sweaters his direction, she covered herself with her sleeping bag and glared at the boy until he backed out. It took her a couple of minutes to dress and come out, still looking pissed as ever.
"... To just barge in like that, no knocking, no asking, no nothing… What? What did you want?"
"Where's W? And Hedley?"
"Planning. Scheming."
She brushed her messy morning hair aside and crossed her arms.
"Why, what's it to you? I heard you're out of the next job, anyway."
"I am, but… Still. Just wanted to ask."
"They're out, scoping out an ambush location. I heard the moron twitching in his tent all night, mumbling some nonsense. Must've been really excited for this."
Ines yawned and slouched forward, still very much sleepy.
"... And you? You don't have to stay here, you know? Living in a merc town seems nicer than staying, anyway. But that's your choice, I guess."
She gave a shrug and stretched around.
"... Not for me to intrude into your life."
"Right. Not like W wants me here, anyway."
"Exactly."
Ouch. She was right, though.
"Guess that's it, then?"
"It…? As in?"
"As in, that's IT? We're done?"
She stopped stretching to give him a slightly confused glance.
"Done? What, that's what got your feelings all blue? We're not done, sankta. Let the boys have their angel hunting fun and then come back."
"Oh. Oh, right."
He seems to have forgotten that the sarkaz don't hold grudges over such measly manners as simply refusing to join in on an operation. He gave a nod.
"So… You'll pick me up once you're done with this?"
"Mmm. At least they will, I suppose."
Her hands slid downwards to rest against her hips.
"Take a merc line, ride to Gornac, wait a day or two, I'll send them your way. Better than sitting here and wasting resources. Not like we even have any to begin with."
With a gentle sigh, she turned towards their makeshift kitchen, the supply crates looking so tragically bare and naked. Andy nodded in affirmation, remembering yesterday's "salt soup."
"Right. Guess that's a see-ya, then."
"Mhm. See-ya, sankta."
She gave a half assed wave as Andy packed his stuff and simply left the camp, heading for the nearest merc line stop.
Such was life in Kazdel, after all. Allies would come, go, die, be reborn in some cases. Not worth crying over milk that hasn't even been spilled yet.
It was just a temporary parting.
A short vacation, if you will.
A leave.
That word sounded so professional and amusing to him. He was going on leave, to travel, no less.
His giggles echoed through the air as he sat by the empty road, under the merc line's makeshift stop.
See-ya, Hedley.
See-ya, Ines.
Bye-bye, W.