hero of restoration.

“How I’m doin’…. ?” 

Of course.

Of course Ryouma remembers and expects his old friend to just willingly take the gift. But he’s obstinate at first, glowering at him with an unusually pained look. Of all the people to remember… – of all the people to meet on a day where he expected to be all alone, it had to be him, like a knife slicing into a perpetually open wound. But it should be him, and that’s also why it stings so badly – for Izou can’t help but be fragile when it comes to the subject of Sakamoto Ryouma’s existence in general. “Tch. Take one look and that’ll tell ya all y'want.” Ragged and rough, and with new tears in his hakama. Another scuffle? “… and? It’s obvious yer not just here to ‘check on me’ all chummy-like.”

Whoops. The cat’s out of the bag. Or should he say the frogs...? “Ahahah, you caught me.”

As per usual, it’s just best to be honest. He knew, they knew, all three of them, the answer to that question. It’s nothing that should be voiced, needed to be. Though he does believe Izou is able to fetch for himself and can be left to his own devices, the idea he wouldn’t come to check on him without second intentions is a bit hurtful. 

Ryouma is just-- busy. Just busy, is all. “... It’s true. Ah, well, kinda true. It’s definitely not all, but that ain’t an excuse.” As long as Izou isn’t dripping in blood and being chased around or even worse, it’s a victory. “’s been a while. Since we last celebrated yer birthday. Honestly, I never thought we’d be able to spend it together again, but this is pretty unique, ain’t it? So I thought it’d be nice. To drink and party again like we used to.” Like we used to, again. Always putting band-aids over old wounds, he is.

It's an opportunity he is not likely to miss, for neither of them can be sure if there will ever be another. With the money they have gathered, a rather popular brand of sake is purchased with a red bow around it, together in a bag with Oryou's special handmade Frog Choco. All meticulously prepared for this singly day, one he has never forgotten, never allowed himself to forget. If Ryouma is luck to find and talk to his old friend for even a minute, he already considers the whole thing a success.

“Frogs are slimy and gross, unless it’s the kind you kiss to turn into a prince!”

“Hm?”

“Wait, do I get him as a free gift if I buy all the chocolate?” Ah, she’s pointing at the dapper man standing next to Miss Tall and Tattle-y.

Ah, she really is pointing at Ryouma... ------

But before he could raise his hands defensively and deny the clear human-trafficking about to happen between these two ladies, ❝ That one is my possession. He isn’t up for sale, human. ❞ Of course, Oryou comes defensively. There’s no way she would give him away just like that, after all. Not even for a million frogs ( or so he hopes ).

❝ Listen closely, humans! With all of this talk of Valentine’s Day, Oryou-san is feeling kind, so she’s having an unique sale! Oryou-san’s special ‘Frog Chocos’, now for $50 each! You won’t be able to find these anywhere else, so think twice before turning Oryou-san’s offer down. ❞

@renaissails 

“ oi, rider — ” he greets them, giving the man a friendly pat on the shoulder. the occasional spotting throughout the wards, mostly found window shopping like so, leads to a direct approach from lancer.“ standin’ by the windows all the time ain’t gonna make things any cheaper, y’know. why dont’cha actually get somethin’ for a change ? ”

“Lancer.” Both a greeting, and an unexpected surprise. With how closely behind his back his partner would often be, now that she stands curiously glued to the windows of the many shops, it leaves his behind quite vulnerable.

@renaissails

     Undulating darkness akin to a demon – perhaps it was such a thing, with the way it seemed to swallow the world around it. It moved how it wanted without a care to the space it occupied. As if strung and woven from a starless night sky itself, Viy…

     – Of course it wasn’t Viy. 

     Still, Anastasia found herself staring at the woman’s hair for far too long, either mesmerized or caught in a trap of nostalgia. The intent was lost, either way, as now the woman’s gaze had caught her own, as did the man’s who she floated around. They might appear as an every-day couple on their way to the beach, but Anastasia knew better, knew this intuitive sensation of another Servant’s presence.

     To stay silent might have been misconstrued as a declaration of malice, and the princess was in no mood to fight. 

      “…I’m searching for the owner of this scarf.” With the hand unoccupied by her doll, Anastasia shows off a large, red scarf. A bit worn and muted in color. “If you don’t know anything, I won’t trouble you any further.”

It - ashamed as he would be to admit - does catch him off guard for a second, the item presented at the pair. It’s reminiscent of one he has never paid much attention to, but that’s all it is - reminiscent. Not the actual thing, and though the woman by his side had known first and could have prevented that sudden feeling from sprouting ( whatever feeling it was ), she chooses not to, for she knows her partner to be wiser than that.

Instead, and she knew it as well, the human of the pair pays attention closely to something else much more peculiar. This one, who contrasts his companion so perfectly in almost every shape or form ( personality, yes, but their color scheme above all ), is one from his memories, though one he has never quite approached much. At the end of the day, even in a space such as Chaldea - not the physical space, no, for it is long gone -, the Hero of Restoration finds himself at the company of his partner above all, secluded from most out of habit.

But he pays attention, of course. He has always had, and always will.

“She’s hiding in the playground, you said? I will try talking to her. Ah, but would you mind staying here? I’m afraid she might try to attack you again or run away... Oryou-san, would you mind looking after Sakura-chan for me?” ❝ Leave it to Oryou-san~ ❞

Izou swallowed and placed his fork down on paper. 

“You? Settle down?” It was the perfect time to lean back and light one up amidst the comfort of food and friend, but instead he opted to slide out of his seat and gesture for Ryouma to follow. The sweets were nice, but any deeper conversation deserved a better view. It was true that the house itself was fancier than anything anyone would think for Izou to live in or own: all thanks to the aggressive tact and taste of his wife. French doors on the side of the kitchen opened and gave way to a neat wooden porch with a starry view, and Izou sat once again with the liquor and two glasses that clinked together. He didn’t even wait for the other to sit before pouring them a cup with a fun, twisted grin.

“Just picturin’ you making my sides feel like they’re ‘bout to burst… still, what’s the point in you crawlin’ around the city so much, Ryouma? Yeah… get a place nearby. This area ain’t so bad, and then you won’t be able to worm yer way out of stoppin’ by all the time. A chance to make up for all the times I was bailed outta trouble… – look, I’ll look after ya.”

“There are... some things I need to take care of, is all.” And he leaves it at that, in hopes that this particular topic would die out and drown together with the many glasses of alcohol the pair would share. It’s nothing Ryouma would want to involve Izou in.

They would drink, and drink, and laugh and then drink, and forget any and all issues that occupy their mind, and it’s like they’re young again. He doesn’t look for Izou to clear his mind of stress, but it has been a side effect for as long as Ryouma remembers. Sometimes he catches himself just across the street, wanting to stop by, but he continues walking.

Ryouma has responsibilities, and a desire to make life for others better than it is. Sometimes, he catches himself feeling a bit of envy, too. 

And he would get up, but the distraction of food and drink are enough for Izou to accept the dog-like command of “sit’.

It’s sweet, but not sweet enough to make your features scrunch up. “Ohngh, not badfh –” and he really shouldn’t talk with his mouth full, but conveying that joy was just far too important. Ryouma knew he had a soft spot for confections as well, but it wasn’t the sort of thing a guy like him would openly voice or indulge in around people he didn’t trust.

He would’ve said something about don’t speak with a full mouth, but this is supposed to be his moment to relax, and to see Izou so pleased is a joy on its own. “Careful not to choke, Izou-san. The castella isn’t going anywhere, and there’s more in the kitchen.” Not something he’d particularly want to bring home, and it could be a gift, he supposes. Sweets like that are more delicious when shared with someone you like. 

Of course, Ryouma can see through him, but doesn’t say anything, either, because he didn’t see this one coming. It isn’t their holiday to celebrate, not something they had in life, but the festivities might have made Izou feel a bit lonely, and perhaps a bit reminiscent of the old times with how the atmosphere has been.

Ryouma can only give a warming smile, excited at the prospect of sharing a delicious bottle of liquor with Izou. It’s how their night is spent, gradually becoming more and more intoxicated until they’re only Ryouma and Izou again, not heroes or anti-heroes of history, but close friends of a homeland from far away.

     — ryouma sakamoto. 30 years old. lowkey detective.

born and raised in the lower levels of the canyon in the fibonacci ward. despite the poverty, he always seemed a bit more special than his neighbors, acquaintances and friends.

somehow made his way to the surface, where he attended a prestigious high school and college. he has majored in international business, with a minor in history and marine life.

currently, he has a small detective business that he uses to investigate the rumors surrounding the local church. when he was young, he often saw church members taking kids from his neighborhood away in order to provide them “salvation”. years later, he believes the church uses them as sacrifices at the savior’s respite. he has lost a couple of childhood friends to this.

the truth to his “special” aura is that ryouma has a non-human woman following him since he was small. she is a ghost called oryou who has taken a liking to ryouma solely because he could see her, and was not afraid of her in the least. she claims to follow him at all times to keep him company, when in truth he is the one keeping her company. it is likely she has fallen in love with him.

oryou helps and guides ryouma a lot. he is eternally grateful for her help. though he is seen talking to himself a lot - where in truth he is talking with her -, and therefore is seen as a weird person who most would rather not get close to, ryouma finds no discomfort in that. they have been together for many years, and would never wish to make her sad by being upset over being avoided.

thanks to oryou, or perhaps because of her, his detective side-job doubles as a supernatural investigator. as one who has a keen eye to subspecies of non-humans, he takes it himself to help her as much as he can, either by solving mundane problems, or by confronting ( aka killing ) the more troublesome ones.

To be suddenly toppled to the ground with no prior warning, it takes Azura a moment to collect herself. Hand pressed against her forehead whilst the other stay firm in holding her steady as she pays a look to her attacker.

And then to the poor frog that had now put distance between itself and the two of them, hopping into the lake and swimming away. “…Prey?” The word doesn’t click for a moment until she realizes that the girl had been very much intending to eat said frog. “What kind of person stalks frogs for prey?” She pushes the other off of her now. 

“I don’t think I’d taste very good. You may want to look elsewhere.”

❝ That’s something for Oryou-san to judge. Maybe she should take a bite of you to know. ❞  What kind of person stalks frogs for prey? A good question. She isn’t a person, after all. It’s her own instincts as a predator - rather, shouldn’t this woman be grateful that she isn’t her prey instead? Humans have truly changed little.

THAT snake woman wasn’t here? Izou’s brow furrowed with discontent, like a summer storm were approaching and only the long road stretched out ahead. 

“You…” 

“… you remember what happened the last time, you… ” Everyone knew. Everyone knew, and that’s why even now, despite all the hostility, there was hesitation and a hint of complicated worry. Like a ‘you should know better’ and bit of gravel that rounded out his tone, as if saying and acknowledging it outloud scratched at his throat. He was revealing too much, probably – that just a few weeks spent in that white-walled headquarters had managed to weaken him this much, and the fact that no matter how obstinate and angry Okada Izou was, he could never stop wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

He rubbed his cheek with the back of a palm, still tense. “And? What d’ya think talkin’s gonna do at this point? Make everythin’ between us all chummy again? Don’t be gettin’ too friendly now, Ryouma. Keep yourself from crossin’ that line and it’ll keep your head from rolling, got it? … and don’t go leavin’ yourself so vulnerable anymore, idiot, so that Master of ours won’t end up losing somethin’ he cares about.” Him. Him, and not Izou.

Last time.

Everyone knew.

Ryouma better than anyone, that finishing blow almost too nostalgic against his body. Yes, how could he forget? Oryou hadn’t agreed with it at first, because last time she had been away, and last time it had been her mistake, and last time it had been her regret, and last time turned into a spiraling guilt, 

-- and Ryouma had still asked such of her.

I’m sorry, he would say over and over, and yet repeat the same actions, ask of his partner - who so willingly had sacrificed her own freedom to remain by his side - to relinquish in something too close for comfort, and he knows what effect such story and memories have on her; and he’d say I’m sorry, Oryou-san,over and over, but I need you to do this for me. Some would argue on the manipulative value of the sugar-coated venom he spills, and Ryouma... -- 

“... Mhm, I suppose I have asked something a bit too delicate of her. But, ah, it’s not like I’m being chased this time. I have reassured her there’s nothing to worry about this time.”

-- is aware of it, of course.

HE hadn’t – it was true. Hadn’t even bothered to approach that boy who glowered all over with things he’d never been able to achieve in life, the one who never treated him like a tool or a monster, and Izou felt the guilt sting him straight to the core. Ah, that’s right. His own accusations made no sense once the chessboard of blame had been flipped.

But when Ryouma raised his arms, it was right. It was right to do that and it felt right and everything was right and in place. He was hitokiri, after all – a killer, and not one to be taken too lightly. The kind whose name carried on hushed whispers through the streets and through the blood that dragged on his soles. 

So why… why did it twist a knot in his stomach to hear Ryouma’s crestfallen and familiar tone just moments after he’d threatened him? Stupid. It was stupid – this feeling and this frustration.

Izou paused as he lowered the blade, down and away.

Allies. That’s what they were, now. Not friends. Not friends. Not two boys sitting at the riverbed’s edge as they watched the sun mindlessly skip across blue. Just Heroic Spirits and fellow members of Chaldea. Nothing more and nothing less.

“… tch.” He tugged at his scarf. “Don’t go changin’ the subject on me, Ryouma. You went and left first. The hell were you doin’? And the hell’s this place? Some way or another I ended up followin’ you here, and Master… I’ll talk to ‘em on my own time. Last thing I need is to listen to ya lecture me… I’m Hitokiri Izou! I’ll do what I want on my own time.” There came a pause, and a furrowed brow. “Where’s that bitch? … you injured or somethin’?”

That wasn’t on me, though -- is the answer he should give whenever the accusations of him leaving are brought up, but Ryouma refrains from it. It would change little, he knows, and at worst even make things darker for his side. Whether he was forcefully brought to this place first, with or without a notice, doesn’t matter. It’s not the real point, here. It’s simply the fact he had left at all. 

Some things just couldn’t change between them. They will remain the same, and it will always be his fault.

“Hahah, you’re right. ... The truth is, something is wrong with this particular place. I mean, you can see it too, can’t you?” He turns as he speaks, and gestures to that wooden sword that doesn’t belong there. Almost too reminiscent of times of old, if they lingered on it, but it’s not something that suits hitokiri Izou any longer. “At first I thought it had been something to do with the Counter Force, but... Well, I guess not. A little beyond us, but hopefully not beyond our Masters’ abilities.” And that’s that. That they are here, and not summoned doesn’t quite make sense still, and for Ryouma not to have figured out what it truly means in the time he has been lingering around speaks volumes.

And at the very end of the road, it’s there. Izou’s concern, and Ryouma couldn’t help but be a little touched that his old friend would even inquire on his partner’s whereabouts. It’s one of the rare times they are by themselves, and there’s something there, in the air around them. Something that almost makes it seem like time has stopped and they could be allowed to go back to the old days, just like that. 

        「 ⋮ ✖ ⋮ 」–– The unknown assailant had someone landed on her before she could defend herself, something that made her more frustrated at herself than the girl since it was embarrassing to be caught so off guard. Her words didn’t scare her, evident from the way she was glaring back at her. “How the hell is that my fault? I’ll be the one to eat you instead if you don’t get lost.”

❝ Hmm. Aren’t you a bit too loud for a human? Maybe Oryou-san should just eat you already.❞  Even though... hm. Something doesn’t seem quite right, and the floating lady squints her eyes at the other - looms around her as well, almost akin to a predator circling its prey. Though her appearance is quite reminiscent of a human, her smell... isn’t quite. How disappointing.

A small frog, whose jump had been too far, too tall, and Oryou had unknowingly launched herself against a stranger, taking both to the ground, the animal now away.