Let's Shoot for the Stars!

dreamtofbluebirds‌:

These placating words were acceptable, and also stirred a part of him that wished he could have said the same. It was too much, too hard to let light in what was so thoroughly locked up… No. He would leave those cobwebs for another day, perhaps never. Even if playing with fire every day could make it his last…

He unlocked the door again, this time stepping aside and motioning outward. A quick silencing gesture was given, then nothing else as the door was locked behind the haggard trio–Kaito leading in front, and Shuichi taking up the rear once more with reversed directions leading back to the office. A few eyes were on them this time, but they didn’t dare to tempt his temper–not when they figured he was keeping more pets.

A shard of insight into their minds reveals little, but they weren’t stupid. Shuichi kept his cards close…. and his friends closer. If he was holding onto Kaito, then it must be insurance–if he was holding onto Miu, then it must be doubly so. Brainwashing, use, control–all sorts of thoughts came to them, but the only relevant deduction was that whatever the case, do not interact. …Of course, not everyone shared the same desire to stay trouble-free–some felt entitlement.

Once back at the office, he didn’t lock the door behind them. Instead he stayed there, gesturing for Kaito to set Miu on the bed and then turning toward the door to leave. “Strip her and help her wash up. I’ll get fresh clothes for her and replace your bedding and towels. She needs food, so I’ll get a meal for you both. Neither of you get to eat until she’s clean.”

“D…Don’t-”

Miu’s mouth moved, barely enough to form the slurring words that came, pleading:

“-don’t go, Shuh-Shuichi-” The hand that wasn’t dangling limply to the side caught itself on Kaito’s shirt, pulling herself upright to mumble something intended for another recipient in her delirium, her eyes hooded-

“-kiss me-p-please, like-like last time-” Her open lips quivered against Kaito’s as she sank forward, closing the distance, “Mmph…”

Her fingers twisted tighter in his shirt.

He had barely been able to process the implications of Shuichi’s command, let alone Miu’s delirious whine, when her lips were shoved against his own. His mind went blank, unable to grasp what was occurring.

So caught up in... whatever this was, Kaito certainly didn’t notice the soft click of the door behind him closing. Finally, some sort of consciousness returned to him, and he pulled his head away from Miu’s.

For a moment, all he could do was flap his lips uselessly, trying to form words but unable to get anything out past the lingering sensation of warmth. All he could do was stare into Miu’s clouded eyes, and it was then that he reached a conclusion.

She was absolutely out of it.

The tension in his shoulders released, and a shaky sigh pushed its way out of his chest, lungs demanding relief after being forced to hold air in for what felt like eons. His eyes slid shut, and he took a deep breath before opening them again.

The role of caretaker wasn’t an unfamiliar one. Framing Miu as a sick and injured girl, rather than a very attractive woman who just kissed him, would make what was to come easier to swallow. It was possible to go through the motions clinically and detached; it wasn’t like he’d never seen a naked woman before. Sure, he’d never had to bathe a woman his age, but...

He repeated words of affirmation to himself over and over as he carried Miu to his bed, gently lowering her down onto it and bringing his hands to hers to uncurl her fingers from his shirt. Damn, her grip was tight, despite her weakened state.

“Alright,” he breathed out. “Alright.” He ran a hand through his hair; his forehead was covered in sweat, and he could feel his face burning from lingering embarrassment.

fuckin-rabbit‌:

The door was open and shut more quickly than she was accustomed to, and Miu startled from her pitiful sleep in delirium, eyes adjusting to the sight of them.

“Kaito…” Her voice creaked as she forced herself upright, breath catching and a hand flying to her side as she tried to support herself. Through labored breaths a weary, fragile smile emerged. He didn’t look to be in terrible shape: maybe slightly disheveled, but…not hurt.

Shuichi hadn’t needed to hurt him. Hot shame flushed her cheeks as envy stirred her heart, and not even necessarily for the physical aspect of what that meant.

Her eyes drifted to Shuichi’s set and stony face. She longed to feel his hand on her cheek again, and her voice got away from her, panting around his name, feeling it roll across her tongue like she’d bitten into a capsule of ink and couldn’t do anything but drink its poison.

His name was all she managed, but she hoped it’d prompt him to speak to her, to give her heart something to hold onto.

“I, ahh, hnh-” The pain was great, and though she longed to bridge the distance, to beg for his touch, it seemed it’d have to wait until she was moved. “I-I’ll do anything-I’ll do what you say-”

Please, I’ll prove myself, I’ll do it, her eyes pleaded.

Shuichi took note of Kaito’s wide-eyed hesitation and breathed out, more to steady himself than anything, but also relief in that Miu was… alive, and no worse than before. Delirium pulled the inner workings, clearly, but this wasn’t much different than before.

All the same, he hated to see it.

His original idea had been to have her walk with Kaito as a support, but he’d begun to doubt whether that was possible–she was enfeebled and always did seem to have trouble keeping her legs locked tight beneath her. Right now, he really could just assume she had none of the ability…

“…You’re going to have to pick her up.” He couldn’t keep the flux of worry from his voice, not in front of these two. “I’ll help with getting her situated in your arms. And Miu, stay silent when we’re in the hallways. That’s an order.” A dash of a hard look at her and he could only hope she recognized the threat.

Now came the hardest part of this ordeal. Lifting her. He moved behind her, pulling her upright fully with her shoulders, and then scooping his arm beneath her to lift her. Nobody would expect him, especially malnourished as he was now, to manage this–but he did all the same with a grunt of effort. His body protested a little, but it was more of a passing dizziness that he refused to acknowledge. “Alright.” He was ready to move her into Kaito’s arms.

It took some dusting away at the cobwebs of his mind to fully recognize the fragile and broken woman before them as the Miu Iruma he’d known so long ago. Even once he could piece together the broken picture frame and see the similarities, his gut violently refused--how could the loudmouth and haughty inventor be reduced to...

But no, she’d always had this weak spot within her; assertions of authority had a way of reducing her to a whimpering mess, so with Shuichi how he was now, Kaito could clearly see how she was mentally overpowered.

Before he could respond to Shuichi’s assertion of the task before them, the other had already stepped forward and decidedly scooped Miu up into his arms. Worried about her falling, Kaito hurried forward as well, hands ducking down underneath to receive the pass. He was relieved when she was easily passed to him; it seemed that he might’ve overreacted, but it was better safe than sorry.

Once she was in his arms, her degraded state made itself even more evident. Her skin was pale and cold, despite the flush in her cheeks. Her clothes were soiled and her body covered in grime. She whimpered as she was moved, face twisting in pain; his heart clenched.

He chose not to comment on her state, instead focusing on keeping her steady in his arms, as to not cause her any sudden additional pain. She wasn’t heavy, or at least, wasn’t at a weight where she would overburden his body. He felt confident in his ability to carefully transport her.

“Yeah.” It was a simple, unedited reply. He brushed his hair from his face, feeling along the scars a moment before breathing out.

“She has a broken rib. She’s not sleeping sitting up like I asked her to, so she’s placing strain on it unintentionally when she gets up and down. Nothing is punctured but she needs moved.” He couldn’t blame her for wanting to lay down. It was natural for humans to do that, and in the absence of any other comfort, it was all she really had. It didn’t make much sense to try ‘persuading’ her. “I’ll need the space soon, anyway.”

Rising from his seat, he approached the metal cage Kaito resided in. His eyes fixed on the other and his guard went up, although to him it was as necessary as his hat in maintaining his image. “When we leave, don’t speak unless it’s yes sir. If she speaks, I might need to gag her until she’s here. Once we’re back, you can speak freely again. I’ll give further instruction then.”

For the first time in quite a while, he unlocked the door despite Kaito very much standing up and nearby–and the vulnerability wasn’t lost on him. The other was tall and his body was honed, lacking even the faint baby-fat he’d had at Hope’s Peak. If he wanted, he’d be able to turn the tables far too quickly on Shuichi and he knew it.

It’s why a gun was still cloaked in his jacket, and it was still hard to truly turn his back to him.

“Stay in front of me.” He gestured toward the door in front of the ‘office’, unlocking it and motioning for the other male to move ahead of him.

His lips thinned, tugged down into a small frown at the revelation of her injuries. A broken rib was nothing to scoff at, and if left untreated... Well, it wouldn’t kill her, hopefully, but it most certainly would cause her a lot of pain if allowed to get worse. An inference could be made that since Shuichi was too busy to monitor her condition and ensure she was resting properly, having her in the same space as Kaito would allow for a more reliable set of eyes to watch over her.

He didn’t react to the opening of his cell in any manner--in the recent days, he’d been thinking less and less of looking for opportunities to escape, and in this particular situation, he was too focused on Miu’s condition to consider using this as a chance to get the upper hand. Even if Shuichi hadn’t accounted for that, it certainly played a hand in Kaito’s cooperativeness.

“Yeah, alright.” He nodded at the directions, making a mental note to convey as such to Miu when they reached the cell she was in. Being gagged seemed like it’d be more of a hassle than any of them would want, so hopefully she’d take the warning seriously.

He followed the next set of directions without comment, slipping in-between Shuichi and the door. He led the way out, but didn’t go far before hesitating. A strange feeling settled upon him as he realized this was the first time he’d left the room in... god, how long had it been? A month? Longer? Time had become too vague to actually gauge how much time had passed since his own capture.

Closer…closer…

And…

Feigning hesitation, she extended a slender arm until her hand fit into his.

She had his hand now, and that was enough.

She pulled, knowing the illusions would crumble like sand before him, that the appearance of her blackened sclera framing the light of two brilliant glowing eyes would be revealed to him in a moment: translucent, lace-like wings seemingly sprouting from her back in the same hue.

Her arms wrapped around his back, tight and desperate, as she pressed in against his chest and gazed up at him, eyes dreamy.

“Don’t be scared-” She warned, preempting his line of thought. Countless vines coiled back towards their source at her feet from their web-like protrusions through the forest, banding together to form a shell around the two of them, blotting out all light aside from that emanating from her wings and eyes. More vines twisted and turned around their legs and waists, and even more on his arms, suspending and supporting the two of them in such a way that she could lay on him like one would lay in a hammock. “-I’ve looked everywhere for you, waited so long…”

Her shimmering wings trembled with contentment, and she brushed the back of her fingers against one of his cheeks.

“You’ll…stay…” She intoned, more telling than asking him, nuzzling a cheek against his chest with something reminiscent of exhaustion. “We won’t get lost again, it won’t be cold anymore…”

The situation changed so fast, and it took him more than a few seconds to realize that the sudden drop in his gut was his body yelling at him that he was now in danger. He blinked, only catching a glimpse of her face before it was pressed into his chest--not quite enough to process what he thought he’d seen. But the warping of his surroundings told him more; it told him that this was no longer a maiden in distress, but rather...

“W-What are you?” His voice shook, his lack of understanding sending a tremble through his body. Now vulnerable and exposed beneath her, he couldn’t focus on anything but the deepness of her eyes--not even her hand on his cheek was enough of a distraction to pull him away.

Was he going to drown in them?

That question remained unanswered, thankfully, as she again lowered her head to his chest, breaking the spell that had fallen over him. His immediate reaction was to struggle, but as he looked down to her... He couldn’t bring himself to move. Though he couldn’t understand the meaning behind her words, he could feel the weight behind them.

Anxieties swarmed in his chest like a wasp’s nest, eager to bite into his soft flesh no matter how thickly he placed armor upon himself. His constitution was never suited for something like this and he knew it–the weakness in his bones reminded him of how human he was.

But he refused to lay down and take it any longer. This world may be rotted and grotesque, and he might be fighting from all the wrong angles to any sane person, but if it was either give up and die or ensure that maybe, just maybe, someone survived unscathed as a result of his interference…

…He pushed himself forward with this horrible incentive. He’d never see the good fruit of his labor, would he? Only the corpses and blood soaked so deeply into his gloves that he could smell it. Always, he could smell it.

He was letting his mind wander too much once again, wasn’t he? The silence of his office and his folded fingers gave a moment too long of respite and reflection. Sometimes, he considered the overall picture of this destitute scene–and more often then not, he was pulled back in by the reality at his fingertips.

Right now, that became the pull in his stomach to move Miu to somewhere he could more easily keep an eye on, and keep prying eyes off.

Kaito was typically awake when he was, give or take an hour, and so he spoke up.

“I have a problem I need to solve.” His tone lacked the commanding strength he so often showed–it seemed that today, he felt no need to wear a mask in front of the other. “Miu is an innocent, like you.”

Kaito would’ve been aware he was going after her, but nothing had been said to him after her capture no matter how hard he tried to push for more information.

“Every bed we have is taken by the staff, and she’s… injured right now. I don’t want her in the cells any longer. I’d like to avoid giving any guards information about this. If I were to unlock your cell and lead you to her… Would you help me bring her back here? She’d have to share quarters with you.”

- @galacticluminary

He’d woken up to a silent Shuichi.

Not that that was unusual, but there was a rawness in the others face that made it clear to Kaito that there was a more tangible cause to it this time. His mouth had opened, ready to question Shuichi, then closed--he could see the gears wildly spinning behind his eyes, hands tensed and digging into each other. His gut told him that an answer would come.

That proved true faster than he’d expected, Shuichi’s tired words reaching out to him in need of support. Support that he was always more than willing to give, when it didn’t involve blood being spilt.

The reveal of Miu’s capture surprised him, but not as much as Shuichi’s claim of her innocence did. She’d been missing for so long that it was hard to imagine anything but her falling into despair as their classmates had. But Shuichi wouldn’t say that without proof, so he accepted that as fact.

He considered the request, eyes flickering to his bed. It wasn’t designed for two, but sharing certainly wasn’t impossible. If it proved difficult, there was always the option of sleeping in shifts.

He had no objections.

He rose, an answer in itself, though he’d still verbalize it. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” He paused. “She’s hurt?”

Why give him the chance, indeed? To say he knew Kaito wouldn’t wasn’t exactly true. There was a possibility, just like how his own nature had been upheaved. Kaito was capable of this and more as long as he saw a chance to do the right thing. Everything he’d said so far, he’d refused to give up on him. It was harder still to believe it was all a lie and that he secretly plotted to kill him.

Ah, but that assumed killing was what the opposition would desire. Reformation and capture was another possibility. Would Kaito attempt to sell him out…? If he couldn’t convince him it was no longer an option, then…. No, no he couldn’t afford that.

His body would betray him, the tensing of his muscles and the battle within between logics readable, though subtle aside from the way he gripped the front of his uniform.

“You’d never… ” He faltered, trying to find the words that refused to reveal him so starkly though only a short sigh came out. His trust was so dangerously high for this man he barely knew any longer. No… Damn it, even if he tried to act distanced, he wasn’t. “…I can’t tell you. I just do.”

It wasn’t hard to guess some of it. There was a lot Kaito wouldn’t do to someone else, under any circumstances.

“I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. I need to go back to administrative duty.” He reached for his hat, thumb grazing over the sweat-lined interior.

Conflict began to show itself, and then the doors were pulled shut. Kaito was only given a glimpse, but it was enough to tell that his query had gotten him somewhere. There was still the question of if it was actual progress or just an illusion of it, but Kaito’s heart would affirm the former.

Hope.

Dammit. His damn heart cried out at Shuichi’s retreat, pulsing through his veins and urging him to reach out through the bars to pull him back--despite the fact that Shuichi was nowhere near him, and that this retreat was the rebuilding of emotional walls rather than increasing physical distance.

His hand reached up to his forehead, collecting his hair between his calloused fingers and combing it back. There was so much more he wanted to say. His heart yearned for the days when they would lay in the grass under the stars, sweaty and worn from working out rather than broken down from the horrors of war. When the nights lasted forever as words never ceased, conversations warm and welcoming instead of a struggle for footing on a perilous cliff.

Wasted. He’d wasted those precious years.