Chapter 39.

Not a whole lot to say.

Just a bit of foreplay before things become interesting, you know what I mean?

Also decided to give a bit more insight into the past of the two OC bois. As always, however, the hints are hidden throughout the sentences.

Then it's back to the Lower Floors of the Dungeon, where a match unfinished awaits it's continuation.

Hope you enjoy the read and see you at the bottom.

Kay bye.

XXX

"Welcome back!"

"Good to see you."

The words greeted him as soon as he opened the door and stepped inside the building, the warmth behind the greeting unquestionable. It was a genuine greeting, he had no doubts of that.

And yet, he could not reply with the same enthusiasm. "Thanks. I'm back." He half whispered with a lowered gaze and moved over to the counter, placing the bag of Valis he had received on the wooden table and in front of Naaza.

Twenty-five thousand Valis for accompanying the party on their Quest, and another five thousand as 'hazard' pay.

'The Monsters might target you more as you are vital to the mission, he said. Dumbass shorty, as if Monsters are capable of tactical thinking…'

He wondered why he could not just say it as it were.

This way he only managed to piss him off.

Actually, now that Seiji thought about it, that might have been the reason all along.

Whatever the reason however, he had agreed to it. Seiji remembered his friend's words well: about how he should not be picky and that he should consider his Familia's situation.

"Here's what remained left from the Quest, bro Fuzen said he has no use of it so we can sell them." Seiji then placed the Supporter bag from his back on the counter, as well.

Thirty thousand Valis earned in a single day, not to mention the Potions they could sell the next day. With the overall profit they made per month, now increased thanks to Seiji managing to gain them some more regular customers, the month looked good for them.

They could pay off their monthly debt to Dian Cecht Familia and with some luck, even be able to save a little on the side.

"How was the Quest?" Came the question from his kind God.

It was a well-meaning question, of course. He was simply trying to get a discussion going, hear about his member's day, things like that.

Seiji understood it.

But, he was not in the mood for it. "Good, good..." He answered vaguely with a wave of his hand as he passed by his God and Captain.

"...Is everything all right?" Asked his Captain next.

The sound of her voice alone would have usually gotten his spirit up. It was like that every morning when he woke up. Every time he came back from the Dungeon.

A simple 'Good morning' or 'Welcome back' from her made him feel all weird and pleasantly fuzzy, as well as motivated.

But right now...it worked little of it's magic on him.

"...Yeah."

He answered bluntly once again and silently made his way upstairs, entering his room and locking the door behind him. He rarely if ever did so, but right now it felt the right thing to do.

Unstrapping the sword on his back and leaning it against the wall next to his bed, he took off his shirt and allowed himself to lay on the bed.

Seiji let out a long, long sigh as he pondered on the reason for his distress.

Mikoto Yamato.

Despite probably being one of the two individuals who knew Fuzen Katsumi the most, even Seiji could not say what he was planning around this time with this course of actions.

As short as he was, his friend's mind worked in truly indescribable ways sometimes.

But he knew one thing for sure.

The realization that brought him to his current state.

'...Too cruel.'

Indeed, whatever his plan may be this time around, it way way too cruel.

Sighing once again he covered his eyes with his hand and slowly drifted off into his thoughts.

He was once again in his hut, back in his village. Mere months passed since he had left but despite all the bad memories he possessed of that place Seiji still missed it.

The sun was high up on the clear blue skies, it's shine reflecting on the gentle waves in the distance. A beautiful sight to be sure.

The village down below at the shore to the sea was small but still larger than most of the surrounding cities. They possessed a small port and would see ships dock there every once in a while, merchants bringing their wares to sell to the regional cities or war ships bringing soldiers to relief the ones already fighting in the nearby conflicts.

Though poor, as an island country the Far East had many ships at it's disposal for such tasks and moving soldiers via ships was sometimes far better than having them march throughout the country.

Even with that said however, their village was still just that: a village somewhere further up north and not worthy enough for it's name to be remembered. Not much trade happened here as the merchants who arrived by ships quickly moved on to the cities.

Fish was the main focus instead and the village as a whole depended on it for it's survival. Some farmers succeeded in growing some seaside vegetables by making use of raised beds, but so far they could only succeed in growing beets and kale and that in no large enough quantity for it to become a reliable source of either income or survival.

His hut was situated outside the village, on a hill. No more than a five minutes walk to the settlement down below. From there he had a perfect view of the sea, the village and the rising sun. A good location to be sure, even if a bit too close to the nearby forest.

But there was another structure, larger and older than anything in the region, in whose shadow he had lived his whole life.

The dojo situated higher up on on an elevated location in the distance which overlooked the entirety of the coast. A large building surrounded by a stone fence, something no other building had. The dojo itself was immense, at least for Seiji back then it was. It could house twenty people without cutting down on privacy.

And there, at the wooden double-gates, he was standing.

A long-haired boy of slightly below-average height in patched-up tattered clothes.

From his spot, he was watching.

Observing.

Protecting.

The oldest memory Seiji had of the dojo was a run-down building with a fence which fell apart and a broken roof. Yet slowly, it became better.

When he did not train, he went and brought stones back to the dojo, sack by sack.

When he did not go out to earn money, he cut wood from the forest and carried it back.

And so, slowly, it became better.

Of course, not all at once. The first and oldest repairs performed on the structures were out of place and already falling apart. In contract the newest repairs fit well with the overall look and held out well.

It was hard to believe, but that was just how hard life was. No craftsmen lived in the village and so he had to learn by trial and error. If he wanted to avoid rain in the dojo where they lived, he had to fix the roof. If he wanted to avoid them starving to death, he had to go and look for work.

Seiji remember that before he died in a short-lived war, his father told him that the dojo was not the main building of the martial school there, instead only the headquarters of a sub-school of said martial school. What's more, their village formed in the shadow of that building.

That was how old the history behind that school was, and how much influence they once possessed.

Be it the old or the new version of the structure however, one thing had always been a constant in Seiji's memories: the person standing outside the gates.

Be it a smaller or a slightly taller version, he was a constant. Every day, every week.

The Watchdog, as those living in the village called him with ill-intent.

And yet, this Fuzen from his memory was still younger.

The old him which still bore a smile, however faint, on his lips.

The Fuzen who would go out fishing when he was not training, or working, or out earning money and then distributing that fish to the younger and older children in the nearby villages, the ones who lost their parents in the constant inter-regional conflicts.

The one who would keep an eye out on rainy days and guide ships to the port in the village with a lantern, his extremely good eyesight allowing him to spot them before any adult.

The one who would guide the soldiers arriving by ship to the nearby army camps they were sent to because the road was dangerous all in return for the equivalent of a mere one hundred Valis.

Seiji sighed and ran a hand over his face as the past played itself back in his mind with great clarity.

Next he was back in his hut, all alone.

His father killed in the war, his mother mauled to death by wolves in the forest while she tried to find mushrooms for them to eat, he was all alone. The four wooden walls of his hut felt to big for him back then, being used to his parents presence. His fisher father's burly frame, his mother's gentle touch as she wiped the sweat on his forehead away.

It was all gone however, and he would die all alone. The other villagers would not come to him as they were afraid of catching his disease. At most they would come to set his hut on fire after he was dead and rotting and the wind would bring the stench downwind.

And then one day he heard knocks at the door.

Their first meeting.

'E-Excuse me?' A shy, timid voice asked from the outside before slowly sliding the front door open and hazel eyes peeked inside. 'Seiji...Okita-sama?' Seiji, half-sick and dizzy as always, nodded. He asked who he was, and the visitor introduced himself as the kid from the dojo while half-hiding behind the front door.

Seiji asked what he wanted next and the kid seemed to jump up before coming out of hiding, holding a small wooden box with a cloth between his hands. He took a step inside before letting out a small 'Oh', stepping back outside as he had not yet been allowed to enter. 'I...made food.' He voiced barely above a whisper, lifting the box above his head for Seiji to see. 'W-Would you like some?'

He remembered the smell of the cooked fish coming from the box and his dry mouth watering. His mother had died more than two weeks prior back then and he had eaten the last food inside the hut days ago. Seiji was starved to say the least.

'May I...come inside…?' The kid asked and upon being told he could, he stepped inside and made his way towards Seiji. Getting a closer look at him, Seiji initially failed to correctly guess the kid's gender. He was no older than maybe five but he could have been either a boy or a girl, that was simply how androgynous he looked.

More than that however what drew Seiji's attention was the state of the kid before him. He was bruised black and blue, on his face and arms and all the exposed areas he could see.

He placed the small wooden box down near Seiji's bed, removing the top only through the cloth. Once the kid removed his hands Seiji understood why he only touched it with a cloth: the skin on his palms was peeled off almost completely.

Only later would Seiji find out that by that point in time the kid had already been training for two years, and the reason behind the state of his palms were the hundred and thousands of hours spent performing strokes with his sword.

With no Falna to support him back then it was understandable that those injuries would happen again and again. He probably understood this too thus why he did not complain.

As he voiced his gratitude and grabbed the box to eat, the kid took a couple of steps back and sat down as he pulled his knees to his chest. He observed Seiji for a long time with a starry-eyed look, then finally spoke again. 'You are not a danger.' The kid stated, sounding almost insulted as he came to that conclusion.

Upon further questioning Seiji found out the kid heard from the villagers that he was a danger, thus why the kid seemed insulted at having been lied to.

'I am a danger. You better leave quickly.' Seiji told him.

'Why?' And that is when it all began.

Questions, one after the other. Seiji was not that much older than the kid, roughly two years, but even so he had wished he had the power to grab the kid and throw him out the door. So many Why', 'How' and 'Who' questioned followed next his mind became even more dizzy.

The kid's curiosity was bottomless if the starry-eyed look on his face was anything to go by.

However, be that as it may be, that undercooked rice and the charcoal-black fish from back then...Seiji could not think of any meal that had been more delicious than that one.

And his warnings had worked little, too. The kid said that if he was truly contagious, his parents would have gotten sick, too, so he would come and visit again. That was the first time he learned how quickly the kid could think and how fast he could connect dots. Unlike him, that boy was smart. Very much so, in fact.

From that point onwards they became friends and the kid would visit him often. He had training to complete and work to do but he always came and visited, bringing food and whatever medicinal plants he came across on his work-related small-scale journeys outside the village.

It wasn't long before he had set his mind as well and asked the kid to help him train, as well.

Back then he had not yet been sure what he wanted in life, but he wanted to be stronger at the very least. If that young kid could put with so much and still managed to smile at the end of the day, what excuse did he have?

That he was sick?

'To hell with that.' Seiji thought to himself.

So he began to train, with the kid's help. Obviously it was mostly just pulling at straws: he could barely train for a short while before he passed out short of breath.

But he continued without giving up, little by little, day by day.

Somewhere along the way, he started to smile as well: the kid was smiling despite his hardships, so what excuse did he have not to?

And then the fire that ignited in his heard drew divine attention to him, and a God of Warriors blessed him with a Falna.

Indeed, he knew it all too well: the only reason Seiji Okita was alive, it could all be attributed to the hazel-eyed kid.

He was aware of it. More aware than anything else.

His thirst for living, his goal and even the Falna that extended his life long enough, as well as the nigh-mythical Elixir which cured him of his affliction. All of it, attributed to a single kid.

And that is why he did not understand:

Why was it that, despite the plethora of good things that happened to those whom the kid approached, that goodwill was never rewarded?

Why was it that he never had anything good happen to him in return?

They got older as time passed and the smile on the hazel-eyed kid began to disappear as he became more and more aware of his situation, of his standing.

Then the God Hachiman said it was time: he believed the kid was ready and he sent him off to train with a retired member of the Lightning Sword Style, a man who had already gathered other promising kids to train.

The training would take one year, and success would determine who would become a full-fledged Disciple of the Lightning Sword Style.

'Do your best!' Seiji had yelled at the top of his lungs as he saw his friend set off.

The kid in return barely managed to lift the corner of his lips up and left, without a word.

A little over a year later, he came back.

Seiji could not believe his eyes for he resembled the kid he had grown to know no longer. Nothing besides his appearance pointed at him being his friend.

He came back changed.

Stronger, yes. A whole lot stronger. But also...different.

Hollow.

Broken.

A different person, devoid of emotions, of a smile, of a starry-eyed look Seiji used to make fun of. Now, his eyes only looked down and never looked up.

Among the many kids who went through the year long training, his friend alone had survived. What hardships and horrors he went through, he had yet to reveal to this day. Seiji could only imagine what broke someone as strong-willed as his friend.

His stay would not last long, however.

He could still remember that dreadful day, mere weeks after his friend's return.

As always Seiji was outside his hut, training with his curved greatsword. It would not last long, he already felt the strength leave his body. But he could push himself a little bit further.

That is until he felt the coldest of shivers down his spine. He dropped the sword from his hands and his head turned towards the dojo in the distance. Seiji could still feel the knot in his stomach from back then and the feeling of dread that accompanied it.

Without thinking he immediately set out and walked as fast as he could towards it. The wooden double-gates leading into the front spacious area were closed but he pushed them open and entered anyway, caring little for permission.

And then once he stepped inside the inner dojo used for practice his heart stopped in his chest as he saw his friend clutching his throat while chocking on his own blood.

The worst-case scenario had come to pass, and he knew the consequences it would have on his friend.

If he lived, that is.

Seiji had wanted to stay by his side, to help him get through his time of need, but the Deity who had rushed to the scene would not have it.

'He has became more than a mere human now. He is sensible to things neither of us could ever fully comprehend. Your presence would harm him.' The Deity had explained as he quickly used every asset at his disposal to ensure the survival of his friend in an almost desperate manner.

He had wanted to revolt, to act against the words and stay by his friend's side as he had done for him countless times.

But at the same time Seiji knew the Deity had no reason to lie.

And so he was forced to wait from a distance as his friend slowly recovered over the span of weeks. Medicine and Potions were hard to come by in the Far East but even so Hachiman had gone far and beyond to ensure he received the best treatment, to make sure the young boy would not die.

And indeed, he survived.

But his lack of presence would once again be felt.

After his recovery on a day he probably chose at random, his friend had visited Seiji's hut at midnight. He opened the front door and simply stood in the doorway until Seiji woke up.

Upon being questioned on his reason for visiting he remained silent, until finally he spoke only two words: 'LiVe WeLl."

Then he closed the door and walked away.

His friend had ran away and it would be only over a year later that he returned, as spontaneous as he had left: in the middle of the night, visiting Seiji before anyone else.

But the kid Seiji had called a friend disappeared completely, now replaced only by a silent wrath in the boy's eyes.

'...I killed them, Seiji.' Those were the words that he voiced after their reunion. Seiji had never killed anyone before, he knew nothing of how long blood would need to dry. But his friend's clothes and drawn sword were covered in dried blood.

He immediately understood the gravity of the situation and inquired about what his friend had done.

The ecstatic, hyena-like laugh which followed sent shivers down his spine to this day, if for no other reason than the genuinity behind it.

'Everyone…'

Came the reply, and after they both calmed down and after many hours of explanation, Seiji finally understood what had happened and how strong, despite it all, his friend had been.

Not long after he tied up all loose ends and departed the village with Orario being his next destination.

He understood what his goal was now after all he had experienced and confidently walked forwards, his goal now clear. The now Fuzen Katsumi had left once again, leaving him behind.

Seiji had worried of course and he had hated himself for his inability to do or change anything. But all he could do was focus and fight.

Struggle.

And then, survive.

The two words his friend had whispered to him before he had ran away stayed with him through it all.

'Live well.'

If that kid who went through more than anyone could possibly imagine still had the strength to care for another, for many, many others, what excuse did he have to not fight?

What excuse did he have to not push through struggle, to not hold onto life with his teeth and not let go? To not live, and laugh and laugh some more?

If that kid that the heart to remember him and send a cure-all medicine across the ocean and help another, what excuse did he have to not finally pick up his sword and chase his dreams, no matter the hardships?

He had no such excuses.

And so he too made his way to the centre of the world, Orario, where he met Fuzen again.

He had been surprised behind words: hollow and broken as he had become, Fuzen slowly but steadily picked himself up again. Unlike before some traces of his old friend revealed themselves.

And yet…

Mikoto Yamato.

He bore the girl no hatred.

She seemed a nice, kind and strong person.

But she threatened to break everything his friend had managed to restore of himself were she to accept the offer Fuzen made to her, the offer which send a cold shiver down Seiji's spine.

Seiji figured it out, what such an offered meant for his friend.

And Fuzen was smarter than him so he knew he too understood what his decision meant.

That is why he was so frustrated at this turn of events.

He didn't understand why he was doing this!

…

…

…

No, that was a lie.

Seiji understood all too well why he was doing this.

Fuzen Katsumi was someone who remained true to his decisions, no matter what.

Honour, and duty.

Fidelity everlasting, and eternal affection.

No matter what the world threw at him he would not lose what he had burned into his heart.

But…

But, even so…

"...Haaa...This is...way too cruel, little bro. Why can you not give yourself a small break, just for once…?"

With the bitter taste which the situation at hand left in his mouth, Seiji slowly drifted off into sleep, dreaming of a world where everything would turn out alright.

But of course, this was not a heroic book of grand, beautiful epics.

This was real life and many factors, both close and afar, had other thoughts.

XXX

The tension was high and she could feel a drop of sweat run down her face.

In turn the boy sitting by her side seemed calm and unfazed, watching her with a silent serenity, observing, judging.

The silence did little to help the situation and she waited while holding her breath.

It continued for a short while before the boy spoke. "Inhale."

This was not the first time he had instructed her to do so and thus the woman did just that.

Inhale…

"Now hold." She held her breath as told, focusing on extending that period as long as she could. "...Exhale." Then exhaled. After doing so she glanced over at the boy still deep in thought.

She didn't want to do this anymore, so she hoped and prayed that today it would finally end.

"...You're free to go." The words echoed in her ears and Alicia Forestlight felt a smile take shape on her lips.

It was finally over!

She had been confined to the bed since the day she got better and not even because of her doctor's orders: no, it was because of Fuzen's orders.

Of course she had tried to parley with him, tell him she was feeling fine and could resume her activities. The boy seemed unfazed by her words and simply raised a palm which crackled with electricity.

'I will fry you unconscious if I need to. Don't try my hand.' That was probably what his eerie silent stare meant and so Alicia submitted. The boy was extreme and he would see the things he decided on completed, after all.

So she reluctantly agreed to his words and remained in bed as ordered. Naturally, Alicia was not an impatient person by any means. Quite on the contrary, she was known for her patience.

Even so, staying in bed for days on end had drove her mad when she felt and knew she could be out there resuming her activities. She could have gone out of bed and did just that as Fuzen had been preoccupied with other matters and his presence at the Manor was minimal.

But, she could not bring herself to do that.

Not just Anakitty but even Tiona, they told her that he went far and beyond to help her with the affliction that even Amid had not been able to cure.

What's more, on the day he cured her he apparently got into a passive-aggressive fight with the Captain of all people, going by what Tiona told her as the Amazon had followed him there. Many things were said among the two, things quickly escalating. At one point, the Amazon told Alicia, Fuzen had questioned Finn's decision of having the Elf brought home instead of a Pharmacy where she could get proper first-aid and treatment.

Finn had tried to use the argument of the Were-Jaguar still being kept a secret by the Guild.

'That sounds like a shit load of sophistry, Captain. I do not appreciate you, of all people, trying to deceive me.'Had been the boy's reply, according to Tiona.

He had done it without hesitation.

He fought the Captain, not on his behalf, but on hers.

How could she go against his well-meaning words even after hearing of that?

She couldn't, of course.

"Finally…" The Elf voiced with a sigh as she removed the blanket from over her and sat on the bed's edge, stretching her arms until she heard a pleasant Pop from her back.

"Well, you can move around but don't strain yourself. It would be wise to remember that while you feel ok, you were not ok a couple of days ago." The boy voiced as he rose from his seat and made for the door.

His work was done so he saw little point in standing around.

"Hey, Fuzen." She called out to him. "Thanks. For everything."

"...I did nothing noteworthy. You were the one who fought on long enough for a treatment to be found. The credit is yours."

She had already seen it before but this only cemented her belief: the boy was not capable of accepting gratitude. "You really can't take a compliment, can you?"

"Hmm? I simply am of the mind that actions speak louder than words."

His vague words confused her, the Elf tilting her head ever so slightly. She was of course used to him and his vague answers, but this instanced confused her even more than usual. What actions had she performed which spoke louder than a 'Thank You'?

Alicia was curious as to the answer. "What do you mean?" She inquired as she knew most of the time Fuzen would explain in more details if he was asked.

"You fought death. You survived. That is more than enough. I need little else." And there it was.

The reason why the Second Group had been beyond enraged when they heard of Fuzen's wounds and who caused them. The reason why even the otherwise mild-tempered Raul got furious at the Were-Jaguar man.

The Elf smiled and made a hand gesture for the boy to come closer. He seemed confused if his raised eyebrow was anything to go by but approached her nonetheless. Once he was close enough she rose to her feet and walked towards him, placing a hand on the back of his head and the other on the middle of his back and pulling him closer to her.

"...Uhh...Is this some sort of strangling technique you wish to share with me?" The honesty behind his words made the Elf laugh ever so lightly and yet at the same time it made her slightly sad that he genuinely did not know what the action was.

"No, it's just a hug."

"...I fail to understand the reason for this at the current time." He voiced as he stood motionlessly in place. At the very least his right arm, which Alicia felt moving and no doubt reaching for his sword unconsciously, froze mid-action as well.

"Just a sign of appreciation. That's all."

"...I see. Uhh...Are Elves not against physical touch? Are you alright with this?"

"That doesn't apply to all of us. And for me, If it's you it's fine."

"Mhh..."

The silence continued for a couple until Alicia decided to ask something she had wondered about for a long time. "Say, do you dislike it?" The low grunt that followed the inquiry gave her half an answer, but she decided to push on. "I'm not judging you, Fuzen. You can say what you feel."

"...I dislike being touched." A moment of silence followed. "By women. So yes. I dislike my current situation."

"...I see."

"Mhm. May I step away now?"

"Sure." She voiced and stepped away herself as she let him go. Caramel eyes met hazel for a moment before she spoke again. "Let me know how I can repay you for your help, ok?"

"Ah, there is no need for that-"

Alicia knew what he was about to say next so she made her move before he could finish. "I insist."

That was all it took for the boy to cut his sentence short and give a short nod a moment later.

It wasn't respectable what she just did. But like all the others members of the Second Group, Alicia had come to learn of a certain something which defined the boy. If he saw clear signs that something in particular was very important for another, he would not get in the way any more.

She and Anakitty theorized that it was linked to his honour-bound life: just like how he respected others who did not interfere when he pursued something of great importance to himself, he too gave the same treatment to others.

A dirty trick to use, Alicia understood this much. It was not unlike being aware that someone was incapable of lying and willingly asking them questions despite being aware of their peculiarity.

But she needed to do this.

"I see, it has great meaning to you. Understood, I shall accept payment then."

She felt relieved that he accepted but she hoped he would not take it as literally as to ask for Valis. Of course if he truly only desired money she would provide him it, but she hoped it would not come to that.

Seeing how the boy actually pondered on the thought however, she guessed he was actually considering other options.

A couple of seconds later he began to scan her from head to toe and Alicia wondered if there was anything wrong with the simple, white nightgown she wore. Checking quickly she saw nothing was wrong with her attire. "Then…"

"Hm?"

"May I use you as the model for a painting at a later date?"

The request was surprising to say the least. Alicia had visited the art gallery co-owned by Fuzen with some of the other girls and he was good. She didn't mean simply good: he was good. To be the model for a painting of his felt more like a reward for her than for him, in her mind. "Uh, sure. It doesn't sound much in the way of replaying you, however."

"Not at all. Ethereal beauty like yours is hard to come by so it will be a valuable chance for me."

If he was trying to make her blush he was certainly succeeding, especially since he remained true to himself and his words echoed honesty as always.

"...I see."

"Mhm. Ah yes, while we are at it, are you in need of compensation as well?" He asked next.

She couldn't however think of anything he had done which would prompt her to do any such thing. "What for?"

"I was told that being seen naked has more meaning to girls than boys, and I wondered if you required some sort of compensation as I saw you just so: naked."

Alicia was in fact aware of this but despite her knowledge the way the discussion turned made her feel no less awkward about it. At the very least he was not an adult, only a child. "Well...How much...did you see?"

"Everything above the waist."

The fact his reply came instantly and was accompanied by no emotion did slightly infuriate the Elf, but she did not hold it against him. It simply showed that he cared more about the matter at hand than ogling other people's naked bodies. "No, it's alright. There was nothing you could do."

"Indeed. I am unfortunately not skilled enough to accurately poke people with needles nor to see the extend of wounds through clothes." Indeed it made sense to her. If he could do so that would be far more scary- "Should I cut off my pinky finger to make up for my lack of skills which is responsible for the offence I have brought?"

By the time the Elf looked up Fuzen had already drawn his sword while it's edge rested on the side of his left pinky, ready to slice it off with the smallest of movement. It was in truth not the first time Fuzen had asked this question of her and other members of the Second Group and at times they wondered if he simply hated his pinky.

"Wha- NO! Put the sword away!"

"...I see."

"As I said, don't worry about it. You saved my life and that is far more important."

"...Understood. I shall leave the matter at that, then." He nodded and once again made for the door but stopped short of reaching the door, turning to face the Elf again. "A question, if I may."

"Hm? Sure."

"Don't your breasts' enormous size get in the way of fighting? How do you manage their weight and bounciness?"

With all that said Alicia believed she was justified when she grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it with the power of a Level 4 individual at his face, the pillow exploding and the feathers within covering the boy and she was forced to take a step back from the sudden assault.

"Leave already!"

"...Hm. Gotta take notes…"

XXX

'...That should do.'

With a nod he stood up from his sitting position on the floor and exhaled.

He had memorized the patrol schedule of his Familia and by now no more of his Familia members should have been inside of the Dungeon. He looked out the single window in his room at the moon outside.

Roughly two hours past midnight.

It was time.

Two days ago he had found what he had been searching for: Mikoto Yamato.

He did not force the girl, instead simply telling her to take as much time as she needed to come up with an answer. The look in her eyes told him a lot however and he had little doubts about her end decision.

But he might not be here by then anymore.

Letters were sent out, three of them in fact: one to his former Deity, Hachiman. The second, to his former trainer. Lastly, one to his Mistress.

Yamamoto had been entrusted with seeing them delivered.

It would be ok.

Even should the worst come to happen, and he guessed it would, actions would be taken.

He had done his part: he had searched, and he had found. This was enough on his part.

Another letter was written to be given to Mikoto in case of the worst-case scenario, as well. It would take weeks for his other letters to reach the Far East after all.

But he had tied up all loose ends.

And a day ago, Alicia was finally fully cured of the Were-Jaguar's Ki and was in no more danger.

She no longer required his assistance now.

The last loose had been tied, as well.

For a moment he remembered the Elf and the action she had taken. The hug she had performed.

He had almost cut her in half.

Just another reminder that he had to be far, far more focused when in friendly territory than when in enemy territory.

It had been a very unwelcome gesture from her side.

But…

He would be lying if he said it had not been...comfortable.

He disliked the closeness and physical touch, yes, but the warmth, that was something nice.

The smell too, a mild and faint yet pleasant woodsy fragrance.

And then he remembered that the Were-Jaguar almost killed her, a wave of anger taking over his otherwise calm mind for a split second.

'That asswipe is dead meat…'

Fuzen shook his head and sighed. This was not the time to get emotional. He instead focused his senses, trying to see if anyone caught up on his plans and was watching from the shadows.

He felt nothing, except stationary Ki signatures. Those who were asleep, both below and above him.

'Good.'

He gave a mental command and moved towards his window. It was small and narrow but he could fit through it.

Once halfway through Raiju, in his mid-sized form, hovered down to window-level and Fuzen jumped on his back.

This time around Fuzen had left no note behind. Loki had been clear that she did not appreciate them so he took that into consideration. But more than that, the decision he took was not one made as a Loki Familia member.

Or the Successor of the Lightning Sword Style.

Or the Tsuwamono of the East District.

Or even as Fuzen Katsumi.

This was the decision of just Fuzen.

He was heading out, most likely towards his death, without any reason for it besides the fact that he did not want to lose.

It bore no merit: not to his Familia, not to his martial school.

A foolish, reckless, downright stupid decision.

But right now, more than anything, that was what he wished to do.

Right now, he wanted to prove to himself that the effort and hardships had not been for naught.

He just wanted to prove himself, to himself.

All thanks to a girl who helped him understand himself.

His gratitude was hers, now and forever.

It might not have been much for her, but it was for him. And he would remember that for as long as he lived.

Even if that time period would span only the next couple of hours.

Raiju for his part remained silent, simply flying above the city as he headed towards the Babel. His face revealed little of his thoughts but he was flying slower than usual.

They had argued for hours on end regarding Fuzen's decision, after all.

One wanted to do it, the other was vehemently against it.

It was understandable, too.

If Fuzen died, Raiju would cease as well. And he was telling that sentient Magic to simply stand back and possibly count down the seconds he had left to live.

"...It's going to be alright." Fuzen voiced.

"...Your legs are shaking." The dragon replied in what would usually be Fuzen's tone: monotone and lacking interest.

In the end Fuzen had won the argument.

Little else remained for him now but wait and see.

They were nearing the Babel and Fuzen began his Chant. Once the last words had been uttered the dragon grew in size.

Not the titanic size he had used on his assault on Altena. That was a...special case.

He changed into the size he first manifested in instead. Enough for the task at hand.

He flew closer to the ground and into the entrance to the inside of the Babel. Once inside Raiju flew in a wide arc close to the circular wall. The few Adventurers still ready for diving or returning from the Dungeon at this late hour stopped to stare at them.

Raiju had become a familiar sight in Orario over the months since his first manifestation and so no panic or fear erupted from the masses down below.

Then the dragon flew closer to the centre of the room, where the three staircases and the large hole in the ground were located.

The staircases themselves were what the Adventurers used to dive down into the Dungeon, while the large hole was actually a lift, used to transport carts to the 1st Floor when large-scale expeditions were launched, and also used to bring back the Monsters captured by the Ganesha Familia for the yearly Monsterphilia.

Once Raiju was close enough to the hole in the ground Fuzen jumped off while the dragon stayed behind. He made sure no one was near the staircases and slowly began to descend to ground level until his serpentine body wrapped around the only paths in or out of the Dungeon.

"Dungeon's off-limits." He informed in his deep, draconic voice.

All the while Fuzen was sliding down on the walls of the lift, quickly reaching the bottom. When he was close enough he jumped and landed down on the ground. He inhaled, then exhaled.

":..Lightning Drive."

And then he sprinted off at speeds unheard of.

He didn't use his life hack to cut through the floors to reach the Floor below: that would take up much more Ki than sustaining Lightning Drive. So he ran.

From the 1st Floor to the 2nd.

From the 2nd to the 5th.

From the 5th to the 18th.

Monsters on the way he only fought if there were too many of them to allow easy passage, but instead he just ran.

Naturally, his destination which were the Lower Floors were still a long ways off. He had still required somewhere around two and a half hours to reach them. It had drained him a little of energy, but the loss was acceptable.

The first time he had met the man it had taken place on the 30th Floor. If he understood the man half as well as he thought, then it would take place further down.

Slowly, steadily, he descended two more Floors and then walked. By now, at least two more hours had passed. This was simply how massive the Dungeon was: even at his fastest it was still a gigantic structure.

'That bastard's field should span at least twice or thrice my own, if his deep Ki pool is anything to go by. I'll let him sense me and come to me, instead.'

He continued to walk, and walk some more.

The silence was eerie and madness inducing. Here in the Lower Floors the presence of Adventurers was scarce, thus making it a very desolate place indeed. Besides the Monsters he slew with single strokes of his sword, nothing else existed here.

Except him.

Fuzen stopped as he felt the man approaching his position from a nearby passage. He inhaled, then exhaled.

It did little to help his shaking legs.

But still, he drew both of his swords out and lowered his head, eyes staring daggers at the path up ahead.

Then the man came out and their eyes immediately met as he slowly came to a stop.

A long moment of silence passed, then they both walked forward and towards the other.

When roughly ten meters remained between them, they stopped again.

The man's disappointment was clear in his eyes.

Coward.

He no doubt thought to himself.

Sorry. I'm back now.

Fuzen gave a mental apology.

Another moment of silence, then the dust rose in the air.

The sound of bones cracking echoed and the boy was sent flying back, but he did well and maintained his footing. He slid some three or four meters then spit a mouthful of blood.

The man looked down at his exposed upper body: a small cut was visible on the lower part of his upper left arm, another cut on his left ribs. They were shallow cuts, barely drew a bit of blood.

But they made it through.

A small nod followed before the man brought his hands in a low guard. "Sakda."

"Fuzen."

And then they dashed forward once more, fists and swords at the ready.

XXX

Obviously, the good ol' cliffhanger needs to pay a visit.

And oh boi, am I going to go wild with the next fight scene. My own twist on things this time around might pleasantly surprise some of you.

Also, my thanks for a certain someone (I see you, D) who helped me indirectly write Seiji's relationship with Fuzen through their own writing.

You got my thanks, mate.

Besides that not a lot to say. Just two POV changes this time around, from Seiji to Alicia and Alicia to Fuzen.

Feels refreshing to not change the POV so much from time to time.

But that's about it.

Leave some reviews if you feel like it (you know you do), and I hope the read was enjoyable.

With that said, see you all around.

Kay bye.