tiny hiatus.

The confession of the older one kinda surprised Yusaku,  but only a little. It had been quiet obvious, that Link Vrains had been important to Hanoi’s leader, maybe always a lot more than just because of that mission his father had put on his shoulders when he’d been way too young. More than the crushing guilt that Ryoken had been carrying way too long. 

“I’m glad you found your place then.” he replied in the end, a small, soft smile on his face. “I just hope you know that you don’t have to do this. It’s okay to explore other aspects in your life.” A lesson he had to learn the hard way himself, but eventually had gotten around to. Or maybe he at least wanted to believe that he had. 

In the end he frowned slightly though. There actually was the possibility that Kusanagi and the others would be happy to see him, even after disappearing like that. After all Yusei and the others had been too. It seemed like that was a mistake he still was prone to make. 

A sight left his lips, before his expression soften again. “Maybe you’re right. I guess I’m not used to it.” he replied eventually.  If Revolver decided to be honest with him, than Playmaker could return that favour at this point, right? After everything they’ve went through together.. 

“Yeah… kinda just…happened I guess? Did you hear about the WRGP taking place currently? My … brother decided that because I never really used the flat he got for me while staying in Den City I now at least could participate with them to make up for it.”  

What Playmaker mentioned was a topic Revolver still struggled with. Exploring other aspects of his life — what would that entail? Was he even deserving of such freedom?

Frankly, he was still lost, in that sense. Rather than arguing about that, however, Revolver would only nod in response. He wouldn’t want to give Playmaker a reason to worry about him, after all. 

“Perhaps, you should start getting used to it. I’ve only seen so much of your interactions, but I doubt your allies — or friends, would give you up easily.”

Not that it was a bad thing. In fact, Revolver was sure they could help in one way or another, and would benefit Playmaker on his path to closure.

“WR...GP?” The seemingly random arrangement of letters felt strange on his tongue. Revolver had no clue what that acronym could stand for and it was quite obvious, too. He tilted his head to the side in confusion, earrings clinking with the motion.

Quietly he was listening to the other ones words, eyes out on the ocean, while he still felt the others arms around him. Kinda…grounding. It proved that Ryoken really was here. That this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare.

“It’s not your responsibility to fix this.” he spoke up eventually. Decided not to comment on the rest of the other’s words, as it wasn’t quiet what had mattered here. Ryoken had told him to leave. Not to leave him alone and maybe it was stupid, but for him, who had been send away, left behind so often it was a rather important difference.

For a moment he stayed silent, even though ocec Ryoken mentioned he hadn’t meant it like that, when Ryoken asked him to come back inside. If Spectre was honest to himself than he actually preferred staying out here. With the endless ocean around the space seemed endless too. Free. Royken was right when he was saying their current situation wasn’t the best, was only temporary. And they had to work with the little they still had but that boat really was small and small rooms never had been something Spectre could easily deal with.

But Ryoken was asking him…

A sigh left his lips, before he eventually allowed himself to relax slightly, to lean against the body of his friend behind him.

I feel like I’m suffocating down there…

But again, those words didn’t leave his lips. Instead he turned his head slightly towards the other one.

“As you wish. But please stop making all of this your responsibility. You need to take care of yourself too. If you’d die…”

There’s nothing I’d have left.

Ryoken was beating around the bush, really — he was very much aware of what mattered and what did not, and he understood what had gone wrong. Yet, he couldn’t say what he had wanted to express, despite wanting to scream the words out into the world, at the top of his lungs.

“I got us into this mess,” Ryoken would remind Spectre. He was certain of it; the Tower of Hanoi failing was his fault and his fault alone. Thus, it was his burden to bear.

Once Spectre relaxed against him, if only slightly, Ryoken’s hold would lessen, too. However, his entire body remained tense, his knees threatening to buckle with the sudden exertion they were exposed to. Not that Ryoken cared — not that it mattered, with how he had hurt Spectre. The resulting guilt could drown him. It seemed all Ryoken cared about was destined to be ripped from his grasp, by his very own hands. He truly wasn’t a good person. Far from it.

“I won’t die,” Ryoken was quick to reassure Spectre now, unlike before, “and if you… really need fresh air, you can stay outside. I won’t force you to lock yourself up in the boat all the time, but... be careful. And...”

I can’t lose you.

He was reminded of his earliest and favourite memory, just then. Laying on a vast field filled with flowers, staring up at a clear blue sky until his parents — both of them, would call him for lunch. Back then, Ryoken enjoyed living and was excited for what else he could see and discover. Upon meeting Spectre, some of that joy had been given back to him once more, despite the complicated situation. And now...

...there was no use in dwelling over the past, but briefly, Ryoken ever so childishly wished for these times to return. Wished for his parents to return. Wished for the two of them to be innocent and carefree again. Tears pricked at his eyes, prompting him to lower his head, if only to hide them. Ryoken didn’t want to be weak. He didn’t want to break. His father wouldn’t have wanted to be the cause of that.

Time was passing like a blur. Or wasn’t it moving at all? Spectre couldn’t tell. It felt like he just had left Ryoken’s room and yet as if an eternity had passed. Had it been mere minutes? Or had it been hours that he had spend there?  There wasn’t much going on in his head right now, mind empty, trying to push back several thoughts, feelings, memories from a time…a life he had wanted to forget long, long ago. 

Please leave. 

He didn’t noticed how Ryoken joined him in the cold night, didn’t noticed how his friend got closer, not until two arms were wrapped around his body with a force that almost could be described as hurtful. It caused him to blink, but not to turn, eyes soon enough settled on the waves in front of him. In front of them. He wasn’t alone any longer. 

Slowly Ryokens voice reached him, the realization, that Ryoken had followed him here. Why was he here? It wasn’t making any sense, right? Ryoken had send him away, told him to leave, so there was no reason for him to be here right now and yet… 

“You told me to leave. But I don’t know where to go. I’m sorry.”

Pale blue eyes would narrow once the words reached Ryoken’s ears — and the question how he had managed to communicate his feelings this badly arose once more in his head. Him struggling with words and emotions was unbeknownst to no one, but still. When had it gotten to this point? 

“You… have your own room, I made sure of it. We also have a kitchen and a... some kind of a living room. It’s not the best, I am aware. This is nothing but a temporary solution. I’ll fix this, all of this.”

Ryoken pulled at Spectre’s arm, trembling fingers digging into the poplin fabric of his grey vest. It was a plea for Spectre to finally step away from the rail — Ryoken himself failed to notice how he was holding onto the younger teen’s arm for dear life, fearing this being the next inevitable tragedy: losing his childhood friend, his one and only.

Ryoken had already lost his father due to his own mistakes and had left Kyoko in prison’s grasp. He couldn’t lose anyone else. Not now and not anytime soon. What exactly was Spectre even thinking? Did he truly believe Ryoken didn’t want him in his life anymore?  

“Come back inside, Spectre. Please. I didn’t... mean it like that, I...”

Haruto wasn’t so sure if there even was anything close to good about this whole situation, but he wasn’t even in the right head space to question anything about it. Instead he only nodded, trying to figure out whether or not it was save to stand up at this point, but in the end he decided that it was just a risk to take.  He wasn’t so sure what caused that accident right now, but with everything that had happened in the few seconds before - things he still tried to catch up with - the green haired teen was kinda sure that it hadn’t been exactly an accident.

What if there were other cars coming towards him? Sitting on the ground would mean no way to jump out of it’s way.

In the end the stranger said that they had to go somewhere safe first and if Haruto hadn’t suspected that something about this situation was … well fishy, than he had realized it now.

So he really wasn’t safe here, was he?

Still, with his past part of him really wasn’t up and about to just go with a stranger, no matter whether or not they seemed close in age, so the following words were kinda reassuring to him.

Hospital , hu?

Well Haru was sure he wasn’t hurt that badly but… it certainly sounded like a safe place, right?

“O…okay. With the sirens getting closer I feel like some ambulance will arrive to take us there soon anyways?”

Ryoken was relieved to hear the stranger comply with his request. Despite him not being all too keen on going to the hospital, it was the only remotely safe building that currently came to his racing mind. Only afterwards did he even take notice of the persistent, deafening shrill that pierced through the air — sirens, of course.

He turned his head to search for the direction the ambulance would soon approach from, and heaved a sigh.

“We should tell them we know each other,” Ryoken quickly concluded, facing the other one again, “my name is Kogami Ryoken. Let’s pretend we are classmates.”

Certainly, he wouldn’t have to worry much about anyone asking them questions, considering this incident appeared to be the result of a faulty car. Or, perhaps, a drunk driver, depending on what the company preferred to share.

Still, Ryoken thought it would be easier to pretend to have a connection to the almost-victim.

“We went out for drinks, if anyone asks.”

"But only because we failed you." he was quick to reply. After all... if the other knights...if he would have done the job right, than Ryoken never would have ended up in a situation like this. So part of him wasn't really able to understand why the older one was seeing the blame in himself, not in them like he should.

In the end, Spectre wasn't so sure about what Ryoken was saying. Sure, there was a rather good chance that the commanders would go on with their plan like nothing would have happen but him? Spectre was rather well aware of the fact that he was here for Ryoken. Because of Ryoken. His loyalty was with his friend, his savior. There was no reason for him to stay when the older one wasn't around anymore and honestly, it was a possibility that scared the teen more than Spectre would like to admit.

Being lonely...being alone and without purpose... he knew rather well how much that hurt. How painful it was to struggle with his life.

So if possible the young man became even  paler with every other word Ryoken was saying, until he kinda spaced out in the end, wrongs echoing back inside of his head.

Please leave.

So Ryoken was sending him away too, hu? After all those years they had spend together Spectre had dared to believe that he actually had found a home in the other one. A place where he belonged, unlike all those foster families he'd seen come and co during his time at the orphanage. No one ever had seen any potential in him. Everyone always had left without paying him a second thought so Ryoken had been different right from the beginning but now... now it seemed like the disappointment he'd become for the other one had been too huge to ignore any longer.

"Please... Ryoken-sama..." he tried to argue, but his voice cracked slightly, caused him to fall silent again, before he lowered his head slightly, caused his eyes for not even a second before he was able to put up his mask again.

"As you wish." he finally ended his sentence, even though there was some quiet undertone in his voice that he wasn't able to hide, before he turned around to leave the small room. But there was only so many places where he could go stuck on a ship like that. How was Ryoken expecting him to leave in a situation like this? Spectre wasn't sure, but he also wasn't up to face Genome or Aso right now, so in the end he left for the outside, sitting down at the rail of the tiny boot, letting his eyes wander over the endless seeming ocean.

Please leave.

But where was he supposed to go? Where, when the only option around seemed to be the cold embrace of the ocean?

Ryoken hadn’t thought twice about his request, neither had he thought about his choice of words. All he wanted was to be left alone with his laptop, really — after all, it was always easier to distract himself when met with a storm of emotions, rather than facing it. Frankly, if Ryoken hadn’t already spent the majority of his life with Spectre, he might have been oblivious to the small change. 

Spectre had wanted to argue. Ryoken could tell, yet his voice seemed to break with the tension. Instead, silence lingered between them. His eyes widened after it seemed to last an eternity, a fresh wave of guilt crashing down on him. Had he unintentionally hurt Spectre, this time? 

Such a realisation prompted him to tear his gaze away from the screen, and his friend was already on the way out — but there was something else in Spectre’s voice. 

Something that left him staring at the door after it was pulled shut, something that worried him greatly. Ryoken wouldn’t be able to tell why, really. It felt different, so very out of place and unusual. He all but jumped from the bed, head spinning with the sudden motion. Time seemed slower whilst Ryoken needed to let the dizziness pass, before he could hurry towards the door.

A search began, then. Despite their significantly smaller residence, Ryoken was unable to find Spectre. His room was empty and so was the kitchen. With every door Ryoken pushed open, only to find nothing but furniture, the beating of his heart increased. Spectre wasn’t there, he had left. 

When the leader stumbled into the Knights’ small conference room, Aso was immediately surprised to see him. Ryoken paid him no mind, wouldn’t even let him utter a single word. There was only one thing echoing through his head:

Spectre isn’t here.

A small, rational part of him that barely managed to have a say in his almost panicked state, assured him Spectre couldn’t leave. Hanoi’s base was a mere boat, now, trapped on the ocean. There was only one last place Ryoken’s childhood friend could escape to, one place he hadn’t checked yet. 

Ryoken’s stomach dropped once he stepped outside to be faced with the gentle breeze of the ocean and a view that absolutely terrified him.

His body acted on its own. Ryoken sprinted towards the rail and wrapped not one, but two hands around Spectre’s arm, embracing it with the tightest grip he could muster. His lungs screamed for air that seemed out of reach.

“What are you doing?”

Too close, you’re too close to death’s sharpened claws.

Fine. Takeru would leave their impromptu argument at that much, ending this round of their confrontation with another small sigh as he’d let his shoulders drop. If Ryoken wasn’t here trying to scoop out something on Playmaker or snoop around Cafe Nagi, then he couldn’t be that much of a threat – if Takeru could trust him.

He definitely still had his doubts when it came to Ryoken and his sincerity sometimes,but more importantly than that-

“ Have you two actually been talking lately though? ‘Cause I feel like he’s still trying to keep himself on the down low, even from friends like me. I mean, it’s been a couple days since I’ve seen him last. ”

And that’s why Takeru was here. Hanging around Cafe Nagi was the next best place to try and intercept Yusaku if he wasn’t at school, especially when his phone calls had gone unanswered. Yusaku must’ve been deep in some kind of project to put everything on total ignore like he was. 

Once their conversation seemed to steer towards a different path, Ryoken would relax his posture, too. In fact, he approached Takeru, taking a seat across from him - and propping his right elbow up on the wooden surface of the table to rest his cheek against the palm of his hand. Ryoken suspected he would be staying longer than expected.  

“I haven’t spoken to Playmaker since we bid our farewell at the harbour, right before the duel against the Dark Ignis. And I haven’t seen him around, either, nor did I expect to stumble into him anywhere.”

That might just be the reason why he had considered - and decided - to stop by Café Nagi. Ryoken wouldn’t say he deliberately avoided Yusaku, yet, at the same time, he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t play a significant role in the young teen’s life anymore. It was for Yusaku’s own good, really.

Nausea hit him quick. For that entire moment, he had forgotten how to breathe. 

Tsukiya was never the best at standing his ground. Resolving things with least conflict was his go-to tactic and- well. Ryouken’s intimidation was working. It made the poor teen shrink into his scarf. Eventually, he gave in and spoke.

“I don’t… Know the why.”

Was that a hint of anger laced in his tone? Perhaps. The reason for these gruesome consecutive incidents was beyond him and if anything, that’s what he wanted to know. 

“I don’t really know the full ‘how’ either.” Tsuki bit his lower lip. It was an attempt to stop himself from shaking.

“I was just… Forced to go to a ‘Duel Boot Camp’, barely having recovered from the…” 

If Tsuki wasn’t already pale enough before, he was now. He was as white as a sheet. After a gulp of anxiousness, he finished ever so softly.

“…Operation.” 

The answers he received weren’t quite satisfying. His lack of knowledge confused Ryoken, until he reminded himself of Tsukiya’s case having a significant difference to his own one; Tsukiya was a victim. His father’s victim.

This was already a step in the right direction, but still. Briefly, Ryoken would look around the place, relieved to see it relatively empty. He wasn’t completely oblivious to the effect this conversation had on Tsukiya, after all.

“Then, I suppose you are trying to discover more about it, too.”

Those last words would elicit a different reaction. Ryoken’s eyes widened, if only slightly, and a chill raced down his spine.

Oh? And so they were back to the other one’s speaking pattern of three. Well Lightning had to admit that it had been a while since the other one had done so. It kinda reminded him of the small human the other one once had been.

In the end he let point one slide. Part of him urged to ask the other one if he would compare his own death with the death of an human. With the death of the other Ignis. But he felt like they just hadn’t reached that point yet and the answer might disappoint both of them.

“Well even if it was for your goal, it means it was for your purpose right? So I honestly can’t see a difference.” And yet he had to admit that the teen was right. He was supposed to be better than the other one, right? Better than humans.

But Revolver decided to point out the one weakness Lightning wasn’t really able to get right now. He was different. He wasn’t as developed as the others. And even though the other one wasn’t saying it like that, still leaving it open if he ever realized about that…it still hurt. And made him angry at the same time.

At points like this he really preferred having Ryoken around.

“You’re right. I am the worst of us all. But aren’t you too? Little human ready to kill thousands of innocents because daddy told you so. I still can#t see any difference between the two of us. It’s why were partners after all.”

A brief moment of vulnerability would slip through the cracks of Revolver’s carefully constructed mask, voice quiet and fragile as he spoke; “Was it for my purpose?”

The lines blurred and merged, there. He couldn’t tell, not anymore - Revolver wasn’t the same back then as he was today, and his mind was already compromised by this cage he was kept in, this grand castle. 

“I never said I wasn’t,” Revolver was quick to fire back, “I never claimed I am a good person. But I’m certainly not the same as you. And I’m certainly not your partner and never will be.”

He would never stoop low enough to be comparable to an Ignis - to this Ignis even less. But Revolver wouldn’t stop there - as soon as Lightning mentioned them supposedly being partners, he was immediately ready to argue against that statement.