"Ah... Totsuka-san, you...shouldn't do something dangerous like that..."
"Don't worry, don't worry! I'll film him if he tries to get retribution!"

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@musing-lullabies-archive
"Ah... Totsuka-san, you...shouldn't do something dangerous like that..."
"Don't worry, don't worry! I'll film him if he tries to get retribution!"
It feels strange, to be looked over so thoroughly. It’s as though his being was being bared, stark and naked, to a pair of intelligent, bright eyes that see him so transparently. Did he resemble the person the man was looking for, perhaps? He couldn’t know.
"An’ you’re still waiting for him? Poor bastard, I don’t want to know the kinda punishment he’s gonna get for making you wait." A loud sigh, though strained, pushed past his lips as he leaned back on the bench, hands unceremoniously stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He can’t stand looking at that face, that echoes too much sadness. Mikoto did not consider himself a particularly perceptive person, but there’s something in that crease of the brow that he can’t mistake. And it hurt. More than the stitches. More than the sore, post-op buzz. Something much more internal.
"Mm." Mikoto was sorry as well, but apologies could not fix present deeds. He merely shrugged his shoulders in gratitude for the sentiment before he wiped his lips with his wrist. "M’ dying for a cigarette. The doc says I can’t, though." And then, with a melodramatic but at least genuine little smug smirk, he punctuates his thought with a light pat over his shirt — over the incision — and a chuckle. "How will I ever leave?"
If he knew, he would have stopped. The redhead was much too sluggish and relaxed for Reisi to realize - no. Reisi was much too bewitched to let up on his stare. At times he glanced away and those were times when the heartache showed most prevalent on his face, foretelling memories that hurt more than comforted.
Damn it. He was usually so well-put-together. One man and all the devastation surrounding him could bring such a composed man such as Reisi to shambles.
"I like to think of myself as not so brutal. So long as I know that he will arrive, the wait is no trouble." The words felt like poison in his mouth and Reisi subtly clenched his jaw for a moment as he swallowed. Ah, such fibs hurt, but he liked to try to cushion himself. No one liked to hurt, after all.
An amused shine showed in those violet orbs of his and Reisi cracked an apologetic smile. "It's a shame that I cannot offer you a cigarette. Such an addiction could prove helpful to encourage a speedy recovery, yes? Though perhaps such an incentive doesn't work for the restoration of memory." Some things were better left forgotten. No matter how many times Reisi told himself that, blindly hoping that Mikoto would remember everything but that, he knew it was futile. He would know, one day, he would remember.
He prayed that, when that day came, Mikoto wouldn't harbor any regrets. Perhaps that, too, was just a reverie.
The unremitting stare did not go by unnoticed, but Mikoto simply let it be as it was. He should have been curious, should have asked why there was such underlying misery in those heliotrope eyes, but he instead closed his eyes tiredly as he so often did and gave a languid yawn.
"It’s no problem." He drawls, voice heavy, watching as he sits, and he can’t help but feel an unbidden twinge at his core at the tone he takes. His mind reels and then breaks harshly, bringing nothing but a nostalgia without justification. "Huh," Suoh’s chest bounces slightly as he scuffs. "He sounds like an ass, then." A smile breaks from his lips before the question enters his ears, fingers curling into the collar as he peers into the article of clothing.
"It’s just this damn thing. I got surgery not too long ago. Can’t remember a damn thing before it." He’s clearly dejected. "It’s a bitch."
Somehow there was a familiarity in Mikoto's behavior. Of course, his personality and mannerisms didn't change; Reisi would be astonished if they had morphed into something unlike him. No, there was something intrinsic in how the redhead failed to verbally acknowledge Reisi's own conduct.
It was like before. Grief, stop him before he starts fantasizing.
Reisi's gaze combs over Mikoto meticulously, lingering on his chest for a moment as the other examines his sealed wound. The joints in Reisi's fingers ache in that moment and he folds them together on his lap, crossing one leg over the other like he does. Sparing a snicker, the bluet nods nonchalantly and lets his gaze stray from Mikoto for the first time. "He was quite a character. Still is, I imagine."
Maybe his expression forbade further veneers as Reisi was most definitely not conveying surprise at the amnesiac's words. His head bobbed once again and he smiled a plain one, ill-suited for his face. "So that's the case? I'm truly sorry to hear that."
"True enough." Curt and unsure, his words wander out like a large cat stepping out of its den, fur bristled as it attempts to assimilate its new surroundings. "Guess there’s no helping it, either."
He’s not daft, so he catches the sliver of hesitation before he adjusts his glasses, and all he can do is watch, lips pressed into a thin line as his own hand hovers over his chest — over the stitches that burn. “‘S fine, I’ve got no problem with it.” Dulled golden eyes turn over in curiosity, however. His lips and throat cry for a smoke which he knows he can’t have. “I’m guessing you’re better off than me, though. Who are you waiting for?”
Through his words, Reisi's eyes never leave the red-headed male. He almost scolds himself before instead justifying that after that day, seeing those golden eyes gleaming with life is something he should take advantage of. Twice now they'd nearly lost their light and Reisi didn't want to watch it happen again for a long time.
He wants to respond selfishly in a voice he knows the other no longer finds familiar, but instead just chuckles. After all, what Mikoto says is true; there's no helping it.
"Thank you for having me," Reisi says in a warm tone, seating himself across from the amnesiac. "I suppose you could say that. I'm sure my old friend - the person I am waiting for - would be terse with me for having such an attitude. He's very proud like that." The bluet tilts his head in curiosity to match Mikoto's, but it's a facade to fuel the conversation. "Is something the matter with your chest?"
His eyes light slightly, but not enough, as he peers at the just barely familiar stranger. He’s grasping at straws that fall entirely too quickly through his hands, like ghosts. “… Not really. It makes my head hurt to try and remember. Weird, i’nnit.”
"It’s no good to go and strain yourself like that then. It will come to you in due time."
He almost gives in to an urge to grip his chest, but catches his rising hand’s trail and instead adjusts his specs. This was much more difficult than he had imagined, though now that he was here, he wondered why he thought it would be any less arduous to begin with. “Do you mind if I join you here? I just so happens to be waiting for someone myself. It would be nice to have company until they arrive, hm?”
"Someone, m’think. … I’m pretty sure.”
"Ah, is that so? Do you recall who by any chance?"
"Oh, good!" She placed her hand on her collar.
It occurred to Raine that they hadn’t exactly had a structured plan in the lab that day. Normally they would greet each other in the morning, talk about what tests they would run that day or how far they were if they already knew what they had to do. So…what was he going through that book for?
Raine looked over his shoulder as he flipped the pages, one after one, catching words and phrases of the margin notes both had added in there, being reminded of the small steps in their experiments over the past few months as things popped out at her.
Then, there was one page that she didn’t remember ever showing to him— she’d marked it with a bright green sticky note, and her hand act on impulse as the brunette passed the page, shooting out under his arm that sat firmly on the desk and pointing to the note.
"Sorry! Have you seen this part yet? I might have forgot to mention it last week. We might have something big here if we use this as a basis on our current project, you know!"
But then the professor withdrew her hand, seeing as she got a bit too close while pointing. Her head was hovering just above his shoulder, seeing as how he was leaned over the desk to look into the pages. Excitement always got the best of her.
There wasn't a particular reason for flipping through this book, per say. Some of the content was pertinent to their projects, but he'd entrusted the half-elf to glean information they would find useful out of it. Sure, Jade had read through parts of it himself, but not thoroughly and through using the glossary for specific words.
He'd noticed the tab placed in the book, but he disregarded. Didn't Raine always tell him about her findings? Usually that was so.
"Oh?" he blurted quietly, eyebrows shooting up as he flipped the page back and lifted his free hand to adjust his spectacles. This particular article in the text was detailing the physics of fonons in various conditions. Theories that were sprinkled through it spoke of something that had, prior to Raine's unpredictable arrival, been hodgepodge. Excited fonons could bend space, a theory that Jade had been so tickled by as to laugh outright whenever it was brought up.
Seems he'd been wrong.
Tilting his head slightly, he skimmed over the words, humming quietly under his breath. Yes...yes...ah, yes, he'd read this before. It was a while back that he'd done so, perhaps a few years or so. This text was dated, but it was still a viable source of information.
"You suppose that we could use this to our advantage?" he inquired uselessly, turning his head slightly. Ah, Raine was rather close and naturally the colonel's eyes scanned her face from brow to chin. His inspection was over within the second and he smiled, meeting her blue gaze.
"You know," he started off, tapping the article with his index finger and looking back down at it, "Ironically enough, this was nothing more than an idealistic dream of theorists just two years ago. In fact, when it was initially proposed, the Church threatened to have its founders locked up." Jade waved his hand in a flippant manner, chuckling. "Most scientists and fonists snuffed it, even I, but now we're eating our words thanks to you."
Chuckling, Jade sat back, his shoulder knocking into her collarbone.
She just shook her head and gave the mechanic a small wave when he entered the room as if to say ‘Sorry’. The half elf gave a small huff and rolled her eyes at his ridiculous story. She’d heard this one many times before. I’m too old for this, I can excuse from doing “x” and “y” because my back will break or I will become crippled. Still, Raine couldn’t help but give a skewed smile as soon as Dist left go back to his desk. Somehow, she’d gotten used to that kind of humor— and she stopped paying any objections to it after awhile.
"Just be careful Jade. Soon enough you won’t have to worry about arthritis if they’re broken for good." Raine let out a giggle, pretty much taking all threat out of what she just said.
"You seem out of focus today," she gave him a blank stare and raised her eyebrow before returning her gaze to the book on the desk. It was a pretty big volume, but that didn’t seem to be why he dropped it either.
The muscles in the half-elf’s shoulders twitched and stiffened just on that one side. She glanced for a second at his hand and then checked the book to see if any of the papers had come out of the binding, since that was where she’d been keeping some of her notes. None had.
"Did you get enough sleep?"
The threat - though, really, it wasn't much of a threat - left Jade chuckling. Raine at least had a sense of humor that could counter Jade's. Dealing with his sarcastic and snarky nature proved to be too much for others, but Raine seemed to deal with it accordingly.
Jade's grin died down to his usual smile as he released her shoulder. The half-elf's concerns amused him, though the fact that she voiced them without a coarse tone was nice. Usually he would only hear that from Peony, which turned insistent and annoying in an instant. Coming from Raine, even if she were to press, Jade didn't seem to mind.
"I'm doing just fine. No cause for concern, I assure you." Jade took a half-step back and reached behind him to adjust his own chair. Rather than sitting down to face his desk, he rather positioned himself to sit facing Raine's desk. Sitting forward, he moved the textbook he'd 'dropped' and started flipping the pages.
Silence passed between them and Jade simply leafed through the book. Something about the air around the colonel was immature and mischievous. The smile from before morphed into a muted smirk, just barely playing on his thin lips.
Shuffling sounds, the crinkling of paper, and the tapping of boot soles against the linoleum floor of the lab. Usual sounds. It was habitual to ignore them as they always occurred.
FWUBAM--!!
Even in the next room over, despite the sound being buffered by a closed door, Dist jumped in his seat and snapped the fragile joint of a robotic arm. There was a loud swear and a couple of metallic twangs - Dist throwing his broken mechanism - before the white-haired male's face appeared in the door window. What'd that noise been?
Dist's annoyed expression was met with a passive wave and shit-eating grin from our favorite bespectacled colonel, who had his hand on a thick textbook on the surface of his research partner's desk. His other hand was on the tense shoulder of said researcher. The other male grumbled and returned to his own desk on the other side of the door.
Still grinning, Jade turned his gaze down to Raine.
"My sincerest apologies, Raine, it slipped right out of hands. You see, arthritis does horrible things to one's joints and those of the fingers are no subject to better treatment," he cooed. The colonel raised his hand and adjusted his glasses, turning his head slightly to peer at her from behind his fingers.
Bullshit.
yuan, you never said happy birthday to martel. such a mean future husbando.
IT'S MUN'S FAULT, MUN IS TAKING FULL BLAME.
slap's 'happy birthday' onto seri's ass
"AH--! H-hey!"
Happy Birthday, Seri!
"Kusanagi… bake a cake! Let’s bake a cake."
"Why’s that? Ya’ve had plenty of sweets darlin’, let’s wait awhile, ‘lright?"
"Not for me… for the pretty lady that comes to the bar."
Read More
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SERIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII smooches
"Thank you very much."
Tough Luck, Sweetie [Izaya & Saki]
Saki watched as Izaya had easily taken down the two delinquents with his switch blade. She only hoped that he’d be able to take down the one who had been holding her hostage. Why did she always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Upon seeing Izaya hurt one of the fellow thugs, the one that had been holding Saki hostage pulled the blade closer to her neck. It had been a shot in the dark, maybe Izaya wouldn’t even care about this girl’s life. Though for now he still seemed to be keeping Izaya’s attention.
The hoodlum simply shrugged, “Maybe so, but you should that’s what the street life’s like..” he ran the blade gently along Saki’s neck as she struggled to break free. “Don’t move! You’re just gonna make it worse for yourself…one slip of the blade and you’re a goner.” he turned his attention back to Izaya, “Besides, what does it matter to you if this girl lives or dies? She’s just on a school trip right? I’m thinking maybe me and my guys could hold her for ransom. Sure maybe her parents don’t have much money…but she’s cute. I’m sure someone would pay for her. You in?” he offered Izaya as his two colleagues joined their leader at his sides.
One was writhing in pain as they tore a piece of their shirt off to try and stop the bleeding, while the other remained crouched down. Both had already been beaten and bruised enough and looked as if they would call it quits any minute.
Saki looked at Izaya with pleading eyes, was she really going to rely on a stranger to save her life? The talk of ransom had been ridiculous, her parents owned a small liquor store in Inaba and wouldn’t have been able to offer much to them anyway. This was it. If the stranger decided not to help her than she would end up dying or being held against her will in an unfamiliar place. ”P..please…” Saki whispered softly before the head hooligan had silenced her.
The lead guy had some guts. A ransom, he said? Izaya's wide smirk didn't falter for a second. This guy seriously thought that a ransom would be worthwhile?
"You're better off selling her to the human trafficking business in Ikebukuro. Putting her up for ransom isn't going to get you much; people go missing in Tokyo all the time. They're almost never recovered, either," Izaya drawled monotonously. This wasn't very interesting anymore. Repeatedly, the black-haired male clicked the blade release on his knife.
"Pluuus, you Yellow Scarves are high on the 'wanted' list. You have gall acting out in public like this, even in Shinjuku. You're causing me a lot of trouble." Izaya lifted his hand with his knife harmlessly, folding in the blade and releasing it with a click several times in a row. With his eyes fixated on it, he expected the troublemakers to also watch it.
Human nature was lovely.
"Why would I help out a couple of thugs that are ruining business for me? I make more money a day than you'll expect to get from this country whelp, you know?" Izaya pointedly spoke to the rhyme he was drawing and withdrawing his knife blade. "You'd be better off letting that whole idea just...drop."
Punctuating his last word, Izaya intentionally let his knife fall from his grasp, sure of the fact that the hooligans were still entranced by it while waving his opposite arm. Materializing from his sleeve were plain steel throwing knives, which served their purpose the moment the primary blade hit the cement. Blood, once again, was drawn.
In a matter of seconds, Izaya had the lead male, the one with the blade to the girl's neck, reeling from three projectiles stuck in his forearm and had grabbed the girl in question by her hand, yanking her away and taking off in a sprint down the alleyway.
Hey, Mister Raindrop! [Anna & Saruhiko]
"I want to play to get the lion." she looked up at him with a complicated expression. Did that statement really get him ticked off? She just simply wanted to play the game. She fell silent again with an uneasy flicker in her eyes.
"Oh." she tilted her head in return. Well, obviously she would be dragging him there against his will. She could just tell him to go back to Scepter 4 if he was going to only be miserable when he got there. She didn’t want to force anybody into anything.
She stayed more or less quiet through the duration of their little trip. Her bright red shoes slipped and sloshed in the rain at the parts of Shizume’s streets with less drainage, and pushed through crowds of taller men and women when the walk signals turned and traffic stopped for the passing pedestrians. She had to make sure she stuck close to Saruhiko so she didn’t a) lose him amongst the citizens, and b) get drenched in the terrible weather they were having.
It had taken around twenty minutes until they rounded the corner onto the street that Anna recognized held the arcade. For the time being, the rain had settled to a light drizzle, so the snow-haired girl could stand to wander from the umbrella a little farther. She quickened her pace, and her eyes lit up when she saw the neon signs on the arcade door.
"Are you coming in Saruhiko?" she didn’t turn to face him, but she did speak louder than she usually would so he could hear her. She told herself not to get her hopes up—that the rain would probably be stopping soon and he was close to his work, so there was no need for him to hang out with a little girl in an old smelly place like that.
Well.
Maybe she couldn’t play air hockey with only one person, but there were enough things to keep her busy until someone came to collect her if he chose to leave now.
So there had been an objective for that claw machine. Saruhiko wasn't particularly surprised by her toy choice, but he let the ironic thoughts die as they walked along. He didn't care that much.
This weather truly was shitty. Saruhiko's boots were waterproof and tall enough that moisture didn't slip down to his socks, but the hem of his slacks did get wet and they clung to the ankles of his boots, tugging at his waist. It was annoying, but with one glance down at the Strain girl, he almost felt bad. Hopefully she was minding herself around the puddles or else she'd have soppy feet. He wasn't responsible, but he knew the irritation behind that predicament.
Saruhiko made sure to keep his eye on Anna as they navigated through crowds and across streets. It'd be a hassle if she wandered off or got separated from him. Thankfully, their entire trip didn't see such a catastrophe occur (and it truly would have been if he had to call Kusanagi...).
The arcade's flashiness and the kids that were occupying it currently brought back memories. A group of high school students wearing Ashinaka's uniform noisily made their way past Saruhiko and Anna and the bluet watched them go passively before turning his gaze to the girl at his side.
Well, no, Saruhiko didn't particularly want to go in, especially not with his work uniform on. He could draw unnecessary attention and not to mention if he were caught here, he'd probably get lectured by the lieutenant. On the flip side, Anna here? Alone? Saruhiko sucked his teeth lightly and folded the umbrella closed.
"For a little while," he relented, tapping the top cap of the umbrella on the ground to shake excess water off before leading their way inside.
Of course she knew about her husband. He had killed himself years before that half-elven witch came for revenge, but that didn’t change the fact that she would always be better about every day after the Oracle had told her that she would be forced to bare the new Chosen. What she didn’t know was that Zelos had almost been driven to be killed too. It happened later in life, obviously… there was a lot she needed to learn. A lot she needed to catch up on. She was growing increasingly more agitated that there was so much she didn’t know.
Mylene had never been stupid, she was well-educated and from a middle-class family, but she had always carried such a high pride. She hated inconveniences and people looking down on her. She hated the upper class. She was forced to be a part of the upper-class. She hated herself.
I’m just a tool used for someone’s own gain. I have no life of my own anymore. I’m a nobody who couldn’t even escape her own prison.
"The world is a sick place. Show me some place with a brighter future and we’ll see if that isn’t destroyed too." she said quietly. She waited for her son to descend the ladder and hop down. When he closed the manhole the tunnels and piped entrances dimmed even further.
"I’d like to believe in fairy tales the way I used to when I was younger. Love and protection, I may not know what kind of horrors you’ve gotten into, but I have a list of my own. We deserve better than all of this." And yes, that included him for once. She was looking at it from a different angle for a change. She didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for this. It was the rest of the world that hung over them like some sort of cruel puppet master.
Her cape was hanging too low to the ground, so she took it up and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl before it could get anything else on it. Chances are she’d just be throwing it away sooner or later anyhow.
Both mother and son started walking down the paths of the sewers. Mylene followed the redhead seeing as he knew where to go. Their shoes clicked and clacked against metal grates and rats scampered past them on the ground, making the blonde shiver and lift her leg until they ran by.
Somehow, hearing that from his mother both irritated and made sense to him. Zelos had no right to blame her for anything, to be honest, and that’s probably what frustrated him the most. Perhaps he didn’t understand fully the devastation and hate that his mother experienced during her life in the upper levels of Meltokio, but growing up there himself had given him quite the pungent taste.
"The world still has its problems," Zelos noted passively, looking side to side and scanning the walls. This place was as dank and grimy as ever… "We just resolved a…massive problem a few months ago. Maybe I should buy you a rewritten history book."
Zelos didn’t particularly want to stick around to explain everything…
"I deserved better back then, that much I know for sure," Zelos sneered under his breath. Speaking up, he made a turn and brought them to an area more easily navigated with a sturdy board and a good sense of balance… "I’m pretty happy with my life. I go where I want now and no one makes me kiss royal ass. I don’t have to go to gaudy parties with women wearing disgusting perfume and too much make-up, I don’t have to worry about assassination, and best of all, I got my sister out of that abbey they locked her up in after you died."
Almost at the cost of his life, however that wasn’t something Zelos would expand on. He’d really rather not.
Zelos moved around, made some noise that sent rats scurrying, and disappeared for a few minutes before returning with what he thought of before: a board. Hefting it over, the redhead lowered it across the gap. If only it’d been this easy before… “Go ahead. If something happens, I’m about sixty percent sure I can jump this if I try hard enough.”
That answer made Mylene freeze on the stop. She stopped and gave her son a long, silent stare, her eyes opening wide in shock. He wasn’t the Chosen anymore? Was that a title that could just be thrown away? There was no way. In history, there had always been a Chosen one. Once the Chosen died, a new one was made from the best candidates. A curse her genes had placed upon her. She couldn’t help if her mana signature was “ideal”.
"You’re…?" she started, but then bit back her words. She gripped at the hooded cape she wore, the fabric right above her breastbone. Did they not think he was a good enough candidate? Maybe they just threw him away like yesterday’s news and made a new Chosen. It couldn’t be possible that there was none at all now, right?
Mylene collected herself and stayed silent on the subject.
"Are you happy with that? Your father basked in the glory of knowing he would be famous for being the father of the Chosen.” There was poison laced in her voice. She sneered bitterly, recalling all of the times she had wished to kill either him or herself. She just needed to know whether he grew up to resent it as much as she had. Maybe…that could redeem her son for her, if only but a little bit.
Upon coming to the small square, she crouched down to the spot she was directed to and opened the cover of the sewer system. As soon as she did so, a foul smell rose to her nostrils, making her feel acid work it’s way up her throat. She covered her mouth and nose with her palm and forced it back, her eyes watering from the stench.
"This city is disgusting." she repeated coldly under her breath.
She started climbing down the ladder, making sure to avoid any sludge or grime that was easily visible on the rickety metal thing. It was dark down there—dark and damp and it made her skin crawl, but thankfully every so often there would be service lights that flickered so they were not stumbling in complete darkness.
Zelos felt his fist tighten as his mother spoke. That tone she took...made him want to vomit. The conflicting emotions regarding the woman tore him up inside. On one hand, he hated her. Truly and dearly despised her for how he treated him so unfairly and condemned him for who he was. However, on the other hand, he loved her... As most children at their core, he loved his mother because it was natural and right. She created him, brought him into this world.
He wouldn't cry for her in sickness or in strife. Not even his dying musings would utter her name or show her face. Despite, he did love her...and he did hate her.
To hear her speak so vilely of his father and his old title reopened wounds. Wounds that he'd forcibly stitched up for the sake of his friends and, more importantly, his sister. Zelos had fallen and wallowed and betrayed and allowed himself to be yanked back to his feet. He was walking on his own now. Never before had Zelos been so proud of himself.
His past wasn't something he cried over anymore. The past twenty-four years of his life had been a learning experience, and a damn hard one at that.
"Father killed himself because he was the Chosen. I damn near waltzed into an early grave because of it, too. The world's changed a lot, mother, more than you can imagine." Swiveling his head, Zelos looked down upon his mother, expression hard. "You'll figure it out for yourself; it'd do you good to witness it firsthand like I did."
Meticulously, Zelos tore and tied his knapsack so that it hung tightly around his waist, the contents tucked against the small of his back. This would make it easier to go down the ladder, but mostly for travel in general... Going out in the field would require a ready hand in case of thieves or monsters.
As his mother made it down the ladder, Zelos followed suit, ducking down and tugging the manhole back over the entrance to shut them in.