#exiledatrocity

He isn’t sure how long he sits there. He hears Dazai leave, not saying goodbye. He sees the sun setting, the orange light hitting his eyes briefly through the window.

All of a sudden, he stands. His own heartbeat in his ears has grown so loud. His hands twitch, his legs ache.

He can’t take it anymore.

As he stumbles into the hospital room, the bedside nurse glances up at him.

“I’m afraid visiting hours are over, sir,” she says, but he moves past her, barely looking her way.

He sees his face, eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped over his mouth. And he wants to say so many things.

“I’m sorry.” “If I had been there this never would’ve happened.” “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you all this time.” “Forgive me?” “Please wake up.” “Open your eyes, Atsushi.”

But he says none of those. Instead he grabs Atsushi’s hand, gripping it tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Atsushi,” he whispers, voice cracking, as if his own desperation were trying to break out of his throat. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

He wants so badly for there to be a response. For his eyes to snap open, for him to sit up in bed and smile and tell Ryuu everything would be fine, like he always did.

Nothing. Silence, aside from the nurse’s insistence that he leave, which grows slightly more forceful every time she says it. But her voice might as well be miles away.

So Ryuu stands. This is why he hadn’t wanted to come, he reminds himself. He didn’t want to see him like this: gaunt, pale, monitors and wires latched all over him as if he were some sort of machine. Face falling, he pulls his hand back.

But he can’t.

Suddenly the world stops spinning. If the sun had crashed into the moon, Ryuu wouldn’t have noticed.

He only sees, only feels Atsushi slowly grip his hand, thin fingers pressing into his palm with weak muscles.

Ryuu’s eyes dart to his face; it doesn’t move, eyes not twitching, no change in his breathing. But his hand holds Ryuu’s as if clinging to life itself.

“Do you hear me?”

Ryuu whips around, only to see the nurse glaring at him.

“If you stay another second in this room, I’m calling security!” She snaps, grabbing Ryuu’s shoulders, pulling him from Atsushi’s side.

“He heard me,” he murmurs, looking back at him. The nurse forces the fakest smile he’s ever seen.

“I’m sure he did,” she says, her voice sweet to the point of being acidic. “And you can see him again tomorrow.”

As she closes the door, Ryuu sees him. He sees Atsushi’s fingers grasp at the air for a moment, only to settle back down on the thin hospital sheets, falling still again.

In the hallway, Ryuu holds his hands to his chest as if he could catch his breath by clutching at it.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he whispers, knowing Atsushi can’t hear him.

Hendrik is able to guard the way for Nova to get Jade and Erik to the cabin door–Jade is still recovering from Octagonia, and Erik barely knows how to hold his knife right now, let alone fight one of Mordegon’s finest. It’ll be worrisome, not having them in his sights, but it’s safest for them to stay out of this fight. 

Nova isn’t having anymore casualties if he can help it. “Will you be alright?”

Jade is more composed, as she so often is, so he directs the question to her. Confident as always, she offers him a smile. “I think we’ll manage.”

Leave it to his sister to ease his worries. Nova smiles back. “We’ll be done before you know it.”

“I should hope so.” Jade beats him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “It’s your turn to help me with dinner tonight.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nova turns to Erik, who’s looking at him with such impossibly blue and wide and terrified eyes, and it breaks Nova’s heart but he has to hold it together. For now. For Erik. 

“I know, it’s–there’s a lot happening. But you’ll be safe inside with Jade. I promise.”

Erik starts to say something, and Nova has to pretend he doesn’t see it and turns away. He isn’t going to lose himself now. Not to Alizarin. Not to heartache. “I’ll be back soon.”

He hefts his sword in his hand, and prepares to charge back into battle, but a hand clamps around his wrist and pulls him back.

Nova knows that hand. He knows its touch, its strength, its warmth, and he wonders if maybe Erik remembers Nova in the same way, if that’s what made him reach out. “Erik?”

“I–Nova, you can’t go out like this!” His voice is so unlike him, so unlike the Erik that he knows, but his name on Erik’s tongue sends Nova reeling all the same. “What if he knocks you over again? You’ll be killed for sure!”

Two weeks prior, Nova might have welcomed that. Two weeks prior, he might have wondered why that first fall overboard didn’t kill him then and there, might have wondered what right he had to live after how badly he’d ruined the world he was born to protect. But two weeks prior, Nova didn’t know he was in love with Erik, and now he knew he couldn’t die until he saw Erik smile one more time.

“I won’t die. Not that easily.” Nova speaks with conviction. Love of many kinds gave him strength, and this was no exception. “But I need you to stay here, okay? I got this.”

Nova smiles, and raises a fist to Erik. “Trust me.”

Amidst the storm and swells in the ocean, Erik stares at his fist like he’s on the verge of something. It takes him a minute, and Nova can see the way his hand shakes in turn, but Erik raises a fist of his own, and knocks it against Nova’s hand. 

Gently. Timidly. But surely. “Okay.”

Nova nods once, of understanding, of relief, and Erik turns tail himself, back into the cabin where Jade waits by the door. Once he’s disappeared inside, Jade looks to Nova with a knowing smile, and flashes him a two-fingered salute, before closing and barring the door.

Despite everything, Nova can’t stop smiling. 

“And you’re sure about this, Your Majesty?” Hendrik has gotten better, but Nova supposes he couldn’t expect him to forgo all his knightly training. He would expect no less from the captain of the guard. “No one would think ill of you, should you need more time.”

But Nova shakes his head, wizened and serene. “No. If I keep pushing it aside, then I’ll never be ready.” He pauses a moment, to brush his hair back behind his ear. He’s been letting it grow out since then, brown tresses now only ghosting over his shoulders. “I have to let go of the past.”

Before Hendrik can speak again, the roaring sound of propellers cuts the conversation short. Above the castle balcony hangs the Salty Stallion, preparing to dock amidst the growing crowd, eager to see the upcoming show. Everyone in Dundrasil could do with some excitement. Everyone could do with some new, happy memories.

Nova looks up to the ship. Sylvando is at the bow, waving down at him with a grin so wide it could be seen from the heavens. He returns the gesture with gusto.

It won’t ever be the same, Nova thinks, his heart still heavy but healing every day, but I have to move on. Just like he taught me.

~

It is unsurprising, what the play chosen for tonight was going to be.

Nova isn’t sure what else he thought Sylvando would have organized, back when this whole event was scheduled. “It’s your favorite play, darling,” he had said, “and to be fair, we never did finish the show proper for your birthday. As far as I’m concerned, we owe our king this one!”

Nova had wanted to argue, but Sylvando is always insistent, and there was little point in fighting him. And when Sylvando steps out onto the stage front, he’s beaming with that same enthusiasm he had in the weeks prior. 

It sets Nova’s heart at ease. Some things don’t change, he supposes.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Sylvando begins, “Tonight’s performance is a story that takes place long, long ago. Our heroine, Princess Serenica, is torn from her lover, Erdwin. She attempts to flee the castle, only to be captured by her father, King Morcant. Tonight’s story begins when Erdwin and Serenica decide to run away together.”

Sylvando begins to step back at the light dims, flourishing his exit with a bow. 

“And now, Your Royal Majesty, King Nova; Lord Hendrik; Lady Krystalinda…”

He rises up, both arms extended, and the crowd begins to cheer.

“…noble ladies and lords, and our rooftop viewers! The Soldiers of Smile proudly present–’I Want To Be Your Canary’!”

~

The play proceeds as expected, and Nova cannot express how happy he is to see Serena in the lead.

He supposes it’s not that surprising–she’s much more soft and sweet than her sister, better suited for such a bespoken role–but from the start of their travels, she was complacent in letting Veronica take center stage. Serena came into her own right through trials and error and tribulation, her voice stronger than ever before, and Nova is so proud to call her his friend.

“Erdwin?” She calls from the stage’s castle wall, coming down to the center stage to meet a man coming from the right. He’s cloaked, heavily so, and Nova can’t discern anything about him, but he’s seen the Soldiers of Smile before, and he knows it can only be Faris under the cloak.

“Sweet Erdwin,” Serena lets herself fall into Faris’ arms, and he cradles her head against his chest, “I fear I love thee more than I should!”

“Princess…” Faris speaks now, his voice more powerful than Nova recalls, but he thinks he has Sylvando to thank for that, “Wilt thou be happy, married to a lowly peasant such as I?”

“Prithee, call me ‘princess’ no more!” Serena lifted herself from Faris’ chest. “Erdwin, wilt thou truly cherish me, the king’s only daughter? Or is such a desire too dear to wish for?!”

Her excitement seems to be getting the better of her; Nova can see the way her lips curl for miles, even as she speaks such serious, sad words, “After our nuptials, shall I become no more than a puppet? A mindless puppet–never to laugh, never to cry?”

Her head shakes, and Serena turns her face to the sky. “I wish to live my life under the sky. At times, I shall laugh, and at other times, cry. For no life is more insincere, than that lived as a masquerade.”

Faris laughs, and raises a hand from Serena’s shoulder to her cheek, drawing her face back to him. “Such consideration thou hast given it! But worry not!”

He draws Serena back into his arms, so soft, so eager. “Cast aside thy trappings of royalty, and I shall swaddle thee in a gown of pure love. Never again will I part from thee–pray, my love! Make me thy canary, to keep forever in the cage of your bosom.”

Nova hears the swoons from the audience below loud as day, as they both part once again. 

“Let us embark on the first ship tomorrow,” Faris continues, “before dawn can can tell of our elopement.”

“All my fortunes at thy feet, I lay,” Serena answers, “and I shall follow thee throughout the world!”

Faris begins to tread backward, to leave the stage once more, and he holds Serena’s hand as long as he can. “No cloud, no squall, shall hinder us!”

He releases her reluctantly, reaching for her even as he departs, leaving Serena alone on stage once more.

“O, love is the sweetest joy, and the wildest woe.” Serena falls to her knees, hands clutching at her heart. “All I wish… is to be by my sweet Erdwin’s side.”

She speaks wistfully, longing in her voice, and it’s strange, because suddenly, Nova truly understands those words now. And it stings all the more now, because he knows how this play ends.

On stage left, crouched behind the backdrop of stars, the wheels of this tragic tale have already begun to spin–but what Nova isn’t expecting is that Faris is the one to turn them.

“Fie!” He curses, and now Nova can’t even imagine why he thought he was playing Erdwin, “It shall be war again unless this marriage is stopped. Ne’er will I let their plan come to fruition.”

He stands from his hiding spot, and comes to center stage alongside Serena. He bows. “Good day to ye, Highness.”

Serena, rising from the ground, curtsies, cautiously. “Good day…”

“Wist thee of Erdwin?”

“Erdwin?!” She crosses the gap between them without a second thought, “What news dost thou bring?”

“This!”

Faris reels back his fist, and sends it down into Serena’s stomach. It isn’t a real strike, clearly, but the chorus of gasps from the audience make it seem all the more lifelike. And as Serena cries out and crumples into Faris’ arms, the stage goes dark, leaving Nova with far more questions than he’d anticipated.

~

When the lights come back on, they shine on Sylvando, who strides on stage every bit of the imposing king he’s meant to portray. “Where is she?!” He shouts. “Where has mine only daughter gone?!”

It doesn’t surprise Nova–even if the theatre troupe is a front, Sylvando has always taken that front very seriously–but it is strange to see such a jovial man so serious. He must be enjoying himself tonight, Nova thinks.

Faris enters the stage once more, descending from the staircase, and Sylvando turns to greet him. “Faris, good man! Hast thou seen Serenica?”

When Faris reaches the stage, he bows assuredly. “Worry not, Majesty. I shall make sure Serenica marries Prince Drustan. Be thou at ease.”

“At ease, sayest thou?” Sylvando retorts, “How can I rest, not knowing she is safe? Could it be…” He eyes Faris with a glare, “thou hast betrayed me?”

“By my troth, sir,” Faris asserts, “I betrayed none other than poor Erdwin!”

“Thou had the gall to betray thy dearest friend.” Sylvando snorts, and steps closer to Faris. “Would thou not betray me as swiftly?”

Faris takes a step back, panic beginning to fill his eyes. “Stay thy hand, I merely…”

But Sylvando does not stay his hand. He draws his sword, and strikes Faris down. Even knowing that it is fake, Nova cannot help but wince at the sight, as do many others in the audience below.

As Sylvando walks away from Faris’ crumpled from, Faris cries out with his last breath, “I merely sought a lasting peace between two kingdoms!”

Jade and Veronica arrive from both sides of the stage; Veronica’s hair has been hidden away into her hat, Nova notes, most likely to separate her from her sister.

“The traitor is dead!”

“O, cruel fate!”

But Sylvando does not give them the time to talk, and addresses them with a wave of his hand. “You two–quickly, find Serenica and bring her to me!”

Each girl addresses him with a bow–”Yes, Your Majesty.”–and are off just as quickly as they came.

“Wretched daughter!” Alone once more, save for Faris playing dead on the floor, Sylvando turns to the audience as the stage turns black again. “How dare she disobey her father’s wishes!”

~

When the stage lights again, the play is in it’s final scene. 

Or at least, so Nova believes it to be. He knows this play so well, reading it cover to cover endlessly over the course of his life, but this scene, with the painted sky of two moons and the encroaching dawn, are unfamiliar to him. Erdwin–who he can only assume now is being played by Dave, because Nova can think of no one else–awaits on stage, alone, for Serenica. 

Sylvando, it seems, has taken artistic liberty, which isn’t uncommon for a play so old. Nova supposes he understands the excitement now.

“The time for our departure is long past.” Erdwin speaks. “Where is Serenica?”

As fate would have it, from stage left comes Dave, and now Nova is finally out of options for who the leading man is. Perhaps it’s someone new, he thinks, someone he hasn’t met yet in the time since their journey ended.

“Erdwin!” shouts Dave, “The ship soon embarks! Board ye this boat alone, and peace could come to both kingdoms, as Faris so said.”

Erdwin says nothing, and Dave implores again, “Speak, Erdwin!”

“…she told me should could not live without me.” 

The melancholy, performative as it is, is still almost too much to bear, even if Nova does not know the words this time. Erdwin turns his back to the crowd, to face the painted sky; shadows of birds now dance along the coming sun. 

“So, the sun is our enemy, too. The eastern sky grows bright. Will we not spread our wings, as yonder birds in joyous flight?”

“Hark, Erdwin!” Dave pleads, beginning to run off stage. “They cannot wait any longer! The ship departs!”

But Erdwin does not move, now alone, gaze trained to the birds above him. “Could she… have betrayed me?” He begins a pace across the stage, desperation in his every move. “Nay, ne’er would my love speak false–I must have faith! She shall appear, if I only believe! As the sun lends me no ear, I pray instead to the twin moons!”

His stance now strong once more, Erdwin turns to face the painted moons, arms raised in prayer. “I beseech thee, wondrous moonlight–grant me my only wish!”

He lowers himself to the ground, and for a moment, Nova thinks he is preparing to beg. But then, Erdwin’s hand grabs at the bottom of his cloak, and tears it up and away from him–and when the first thing Nova sees of this man is a blue tail, he all but jumps to his feet.

Erik throws the cloak away from him, chest heaving, face grinning, hand outstretched to the throne. “Bring my beloved Eleven to me!”

~

Everything else after that is a blur.

Nova stands on the balcony dumbfounded for what feels like eons, but when he finally registers that yes, he isn’t dreaming, and yes, Erik is alive, and yes, Erik is waiting for him, he dashes to the doors, and if not for Hendrik and Krystalinda holding their arms out to block the way, he would have barreled through them without stopping.

Nova does skid to a stop, though, and is prepared to command and plead his way through–but the two push the doors open for him without a word.

He looks to Hendrik, who smiles, and nods. He looks to Krystalinda, who chuckles, and bows at the door. He wonders if they knew all along, and then decides that he doesn’t really care.

Nova gasps out a hushed, “Thank you”, and runs once again, down the spiral staircase, tripping on the last stair but refusing to fall. The guards at the front door jump away when he charges ahead, and he pushes through into the crowd below.

The sudden burst of sunlight is blinding, and Nova finds himself bumping into a man before pushing through, past noblemen and women and all sorts, none of whom are prepared to see their king stumbling through the crowd as fast as he can. 

And the crowd only begins to part for him when cries of his presence begin to rise and carry like a wave, and by that point, the goal is in sight. Erik is stepping down from the stage waiting to greet him, and when he sees Erik run a hand through his hair with a shy grin, Nova throws his crown off his head onto the ground, and all but leaps into Erik’s open arms.

He almost knocks Erik off his feet. Serves him right, a part of Nova thinks, for leaving him alone like that for so long, but the rest of him is too caught up with the feeling of Erik’s arms wrapped around his waist, tight as can be, spinning him in circles before finally setting Nova down. And when Nova looks at Erik in the eyes once more, he realizes that it’s through his own tears and held back sobs.

He brings his hands to cup Erik’s face, and Erik gives him an apologetic look. He puts a hand between them, and wipes away a tear from Nova’s cheek with his finger.

“Sorry it took me so long,” Erik says, or at least, he might have said it, because Nova had pulled Erik’s lips against his own before he even had time to think about it.

There was so much that could be said, so much that had to be said still. Everything they all saw and felt that day Erik parted from them. Nova had thought he’d said them all on that fateful goodbye, but as he kissed Erik, and Erik squeezed his waist and kissed him tenfold in return, he realizes that he’d still been holding back. Nova always knew he had been, he supposes, but it a gentle lie like that had been helping him along to heal. He would have faced the full truth, one day, when the past was truly behind him.

The past is behind him now. Behind all of them. And in its place, a brighter future Nova couldn’t have dared to dream of.

There is still so much he wanted to say, and could only say between desperate lips and hushed voices, but Erik pulls Nova away from him, and knocks their foreheads together. In the distance, Nova can hear the cheers of the kingdom, and their companions, but he’s far too lost in Erik to give them much thought.