son of war

KOUEN REN from MAGI: LABYRINTH OF MAGIC

very stoic and serious, extremely confident in his own abilities

for good reason, he’s ridiculously tough

the mangaka literally said she finds it hard to draw him with different expressions

he really likes his goatee and he thinks it’s stylish

has very poor fashion sense (see above)

a major history buff! described as greedy about knowledge by his siblings

his siblings are his life

knows he’s a good general, doesn’t think he’d be a good peacetime emperor though and would gladly give up the throne to someone more capable

picks up other languages easy? knows a super difficult language in his world. not that it matters much here but he’ll be doing his fair share of research

has three djinns, that’s a lot for power for those who don’t speak magi

Well. The Kouen he knew was good at understanding things with little explanation. He’d say what his next ‘task’ was, and Kouen would easily know the network of reasons behind it. The prince’s cunning was a problem for the Organization, but lately, they shared goals. So it worked. The same had been when he had assisted Kouen conquering the first three companies when he was still a child. 

“Yeah, that’s how wars are fought now. Buying companies and threatening them to get the biggest share, tampering with their profit, drowning them and offering them a hand. Y’know, no one can resist when they have the tidemark in their necks.” He smiled again. Ironically, this wasn’t that different to what Kou and their ‘printed money’ did in Balbadd. 

“Oh, so back there you also let ‘em have fun.” He took a step closer to Kouen, peering at the screen. 

“I supposed you need to master that thing to become a worthy opponent! Y’know, I don’t care to help another Kouen so my Kouen gets entertained.” 

He turned to face him, smiling wide-eyed.

“We need war.”

No, it wasn’t different from Balbadd at all.

Admittedly, once he could wrap his mind around the technological part of it, it did make sense. There wasn’t much explanation needed beyond that, but what this Judar said was true: if he had any interested in ruling over this place, then he would have to learn. Even that other island.

...If he wanted to. There was no real need, even if this ‘Kouen’ had felt there was.

“I believe your Kouen and I would be fighting two different wars.”

“He may use a blade, but in the end, my flames would simply consume him and his gadgets. His partner is not a god, his allies of the same name as my own are simply mortals. I could not destroy his market, but I could destroy his building on my own.” He shrugs lightly, “It would hardly be war. I have no assets for him to seize, save my weapons, and those weapons would serve him none.”

If anything, he had already destroyed at least an office belonging to the other.

Oh, Kouen didn’t find it funny. He never did. 

“Heh,” but he would never fail to praise his abilities. Judar rose both hands to his side, purposely feigning innocence. 

“This world is ruled by computers, and I control the R.U.K.H. My codes can manipulate and destroy entire databases! Even mess up with the prices of markets or top secret data.” The young man looked back at Kouen, his red eyes blazing with amusement. 

“I’ll hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pyjamas before my first cup of Earl… than that idiot in the battlefield!” 

He was smiling, enjoying each word, waiting to see Kouen’s expression change ‘before his power’. 

“I’m sure you’re planning to take over some company too! A man like you can’t just sit down and live without war.”

Sorry, Judar Alter, he doesn’t seem to understand what you’re talking about. This Kouen takes out his phone and shows it to Judar as an example. “So this is more important than the blade? I know my counterpart does, however, carry a family blade as well.” So wars were fought this way - not on the battlefield. Still...

“I imagine this Kouen finds market manipulation useful when others move out of line, particularly in the Fibonacci ward. The war here is simply fought in a different way - for the most part.” Again, he could not help but note the martial prowess of his counterpart.

What Kouen says is shocking– there’s really no other way to describe it.  And yet, Koumei isn’t shocked.  Not really.  Each fantastical and impossible thing that his older brother says is merely confirmation of what Koumei himself has either already discovered, or at the very least, suspects.  While it’s true that some revelations have come to him more readily than others, and reasonably, the biggest piece has only just fallen into place with the older man’s words, it all fits.  It all builds a clear picture.

Which isn’t necessarily a good thing– but it is what it is.

Just because he isn’t shocked doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the weight of the information that he’s been given; and he does.  He doesn’t bother to hide it as his thoughts on the matter race across his face transparently.  He doesn’t consider it a waste of time to have dug in as deeply as he did.  Rather, the best way to approach things from here on out might just be to simply consider it all a job well done, and rest.

Maybe.

❝If that’s what you’ve learned, then there’s no need for me to question it,❞ he finally answers. still turning Kouen’s words over in his head.  There’s plenty there to sink his teeth into, and he fully intends to pick things apart.  While his brother isn’t typically one to speak at length, everything he does say tends to be impactful.  This is no different.

So, where to start?

❝Well, I do want to try to understand better, anyhow… What can you tell me about the absence you mentioned?❞

He was aware it was a lot of information to gain at once, and based on Koumei’s expression, he could confirm that he had sent his brother’s mind reeling. However, given Koumei’s position as his most trusted of his advisors - and knowing Koumei their entire lives - he was more than confident that Koumei could take and distill this information into logical answers. More so than Kouen Ren simply moving with the motions in the most efficient and effective way possible, Koumei could make a plan.

“I trust you can take this information and use it to our advantage. I can elaborate on any of my other experiences as needed.” He responds, hoping (and it was a little weird to feel as though he were actively hoping for this) that Koumei would understand his trust and confidence in the younger Kou Sibling.

“The absence - there is not much to say, which says much in and of itself on how this place works.”

This wasn’t the Kouen he knew, or was he? The rightful heir to a shady corporation, one who was intimately related to the ‘Organization’ for which he worked. 

And just like the other siblings, Kouen was one of the few actual motivations he had for cooperating with them. Each one of them had the potential to become the most powerful businessmen, their ‘empire’ would rule the world, and Judar would gladly help them.

Different, but still the same, like mirrors to another world, this version of Kouen still possessed that inherent powerful demeanor and authority, one which had impressed the childish side of Judar. It didn’t matter in which universe or version of themselves, certain things would remain the same.

“Eh, no.” He stated, bluntly. “And better stay that way. Ain’t dealing with a guy.” And then he grinned in that way Kouen would easily recognize. Identical to the Judar he knew, but also identical to Gyokuen. 

“I hacked his account and it was hilarious. He’s locked out of most of his stuff! And he has no idea how to fix it, haha! I bet he’s been trying to find me.” He then looked up at Kouen. 

“You won’t tell him, right?”

“...Yes, he is probably trying to find you.” Was all he could say at first. While they looked the same - similar, something about them was off. Frowning, he considered the troublemaker for a moment. He was unlike Judar on the outside, but still similar on the other on the inside. This one likely had powers too, much like his own and Ichimoku’s doubles.

His brow furrows, considering the rage Judar may be in due to all of this, but also at his ignorance over the sheer force that their doubles can bring to bear. Despite the childlike glee on this Judar’s face, he was likely dangerous.

“I cannot imagine that social media pranks is the extent of your powers, given the abilities of your comrades from your world.” Even so, the smile on his face, while likely bespeaking some measure of danger, was still a bit more similar to Judar than he could feel comfortable with. That childish quality that caused his own Judar, much the younger brother to him, to follow him around various enterprises like a duckling.

A whimsical smile threatens to tug at the corner of his lips, mirth fills his visage and his rib cage blooms with nearly uncontained laughter. He anticipated an encounter such as the one described to him would happen, but to ear it with his own ears tickled him. Mirth sets his brow high and settles into a calming warmth full of admiration and love for his Kouen. 

“I might’ve guessed he’d act so rashly, were the tables turned I imagine you would’ve behaved in the same way. I don’t blame you for mistrust, it must be disconcerting seeing someone else wear the same face as your love. I am Ren, but yet I am not your Ren, Just as you are Kouen, but you are not my Kouen. It’s.. odd.” In a show of compliance Ichimokuren brings his hands together and holds them in front of himself

“If it puts you at ease, you may bind my hands. I will answer any question you ask.”

“...“ He lapses into silence at Ichimokuren’s words, frowning as he observes his expression. There is no hint of deceit, and yet his hand remains on the hilt of his blade. “That will not be necessary. And given your Kouen’s abilities, I can only imagine it would not matter.” Such transformations had no place in his own world, or so he had originally believed. Exhaustion tugs at his features as he finds a place to sit, practically falling into the chair.

“Why are you all back?”

“And what do you all want? We have nothing your world does not have. In fact, one could argue we have less. I cannot transform, neither can Ichimoku. None of our children can, either.” He laces his fingers together, elbows on his knees as he observes the other, hand finally leaving the hilt of his blade.

His dreams that night were filled with visages of crowned princes and princesses, yet despite the unfamiliarity Ichimokuren felt sense of fondness for them. He couldn’t explain why but in his dreams he wanted to reach out and call them family. He has never had a family before.

How odd. 

Normally he’s the first to wake, rising silently to the soft glow of the morning sun and waiting patiently for his sight to slowly adjust to their room. Yet when he’s shoved awake Ichimokuren hardly budges, his body heavy and solid lays firm against the mattress. 

“Nh.” He grunts, fluttering his eyes open and– blinks once. Twice. A third time. He couldn’t remember the last time his vision was crystal clear. 

How very odd. 

“…” Sitting up, Ren glances over at himself and ruminates over the position he’s in, or rather, not in. After a brief moment of silence he scratches his chin, feeling coarse hairs against his fingertips. 

“Mm.. En? I don’t feel like myself today.” 

“I believe that is because you are not yourself.” The grace with which he speaks - his usually deadpan voice instead sounding serene as he looks at the other, Ichimokuren’s confusion odd on his face.

Or, well, as serene as he feels, the power itching at his fingertips is hard to ignore. Particularly since he only just recently felt that power in himself. Although this way was...More potent. More present. His only concerns, really, were pushing the god further than his body could actually go.

Even if he was at his full power, Kouen still held reservations about accidentally damaging the god with his own powers.

A single eye cautiously scans the living room he now stands in before flitting his attention towards Kouen. Not his Kouen, but one that shared the same face and carried himself with the same poise and confidence befitting a general. In a moment of silent recognition Ren is unable to keep himself from smiling despite the threat of harm thrown his way. It hardly surprises him that he’s met tense hostility, but it wouldn’t be Kouen without any of the spice and bite he’s come to know ( and love. ) 

“If my intent was to cause you harm, dearest Kouen, then your home would’ve already been swept away in the torrent that is my tempest. I bring no storm but only the humble offer of protection. To you and especially your children. ” He takes the time to slowly brush a strand of hair behind a curiously pointed ear, his movements are cautiously kind and considerate. 

After all, Ichimokuren does not fancy being impaled today!

“What are their names?” His soft complexion suddenly tints a subdued rosy hue. “Ah.. forgive me. I should mind my manners.”

“Your own, actual dearest Kouen, greeted me in much the same manner as you described. Showing up at my office, blasted my windows open, and attempted to attack me along with some ice demon.” His hand still rests on his blade. He knows better than to trust that calm - twas the calm before a storm. One with the potential to rage and ravage his home.

Eyes narrow, still, at his question: “So your memories do not extend that far? I would prefer you answer my questions before I give you any information. An exchange. Business.” And if his answers weren’t satisfactory, then he would not reveal such things. Nor if he did not trust him.

He would rather encounter a raging storm, blade in hand, rather than trust someone he aught not to.

Different.

Something was...Off, about him. One of his allies, his advisor - there was something in those eyes that was just not...Judar.

And so he felt odd saying his name aloud. “Judar?” Even stranger than Ichimoku’s other self - where the difference was obvious, horns and ears and all - this difference felt minute. Small, but it was there.

He couldn’t help but keep his hand on the hilt of his blade, which had been brought with him along with the weapon given to him to help deal with CPNs. The sky was eternal night, and there was...

It felt like a pressure. The same pressure that had emanated from his other self when he had attacked his office all those years ago. “I do hope you’re here to help, even without a weapon.”

“...Are you?”

Not the one he knew, not the god who ascended with the winds. No, this one was...Well, more similar to how Ichimokuren had been before he regained his powers. Without the horns or pointed ears, a bit frail. At least, compared to how he was now.

Whilst he had come to wreck havoc and destruction last time he had met them, instead now - even with all of his abilities, he found himself descending to loop an arm around Ichimokuren’s double and pull him into the sky, away from the CPNs who had been gaining on him.

“Are you alright?” He carried the other with one arm, sword brandished in the other. Of course he was simply defending his future kingdom, but it was well worth it - and odd. An odd feeling - to distract from that to grab the other Ichimokuren.

“Some of those form your world have come armed. Do you have any such armaments?”

Their faces were the same, but the horns that curled at the top of his head like a crown were a clear giveaway that it was not him. The being that curled around him - no, this was one from that other world. The world where he, himself, became a being with a fiery haired flying being that had shattered his office window.

Thus, he had to ask: “I do hope you do not intend to shatter my home windows in your attack. We do have enough going on.” His family sword at his side, the CEO and boss looked at the other warily, hand on the hilt.

“If you’ve any trace of Ichimoku in you, then know that we have children, and I will do what it takes to protect them. I care not what sort of being you proclaim to be.”

It was Judar...Right?

The Judar in his other self’s memories - brief, but there. That was certainly his name. Except, he finds, upon seeing the other, that he is completely lost. Gone is that grin that was so characteristic upon Judar’s face, and instead was someone quite serious.

At least he knew that he, essentially, looked quite similar to his double. Right...?

“Judar.”

“Or, I suppose, the Judar of this world.” He looks up at the tall building they’re in front of, and then back down to the other Judar himself. “Have you run into your own double? Admittedly, he is one of the few I am tracking down. Other than that, I seem to have appeared near this world’s Kou Empire headquarters.”

He looks back up at the building, and frowns. “You, however, seem odd to me. It is odd.”

The First Imperial prince would never be found sleeping between the branches of a scarlet momiji tree, there, in a park. The image would have been outrageous had that been Kou. Even the veiled priests of Al Thamen would have been disturbed. Oh, if they could see their magi was not their magi but the Prince. 

But this wasn’t Kou. And this wasn’t fun.

Judar stared at his own hands, now calloused, the consequences of his swordsmanship, added to the weight in his body, muscle, elegance, fit for the warring emperor he envisioned. 

“AH!” Judar grabbed his face, just to recognise the accursed goat beard. 

“Ah, well, whatever,” he dropped from the tree, without grace. Even the elegant crimson hanfu looked dishevelled, almost a shoulder exposed. To anyone’s sight, he’d look like Kouen in the morning after a heavy night of drinking. 

The first thing he did was to check the sword and unsheathe it, in the middle of the park, causing the bystanders to avoid him. 

Weird. He couldn’t see the glow of the eight pointed star, but he knew Astaroth was there.  

A grin spread through his face. One which was an exact copy of Kougyoku when channelling Vinea’s magic, or Kouha. They were tragically similar. 

The hand rose to the sky, calling forth the same words he had taught Kouen years ago, when he was still a child.

“The Spirit of Terror and Composure, Astaroth!” 

A sigh as Judar shouted for Astaroth, who...

Was already responding in the way he can. Transforming and flying. Kouen flew up to talk to Judar in his body, his usual lack of an expression looking odd on Judar’s face. “You can use Phenex to heal, too.” Judar’s voice sounded odd with his flat tone. If Judar was looking to use him to conquer this island, he would have a long time to wait.

The only slight concern was that Judar was now aware of his weakened state, although he would hardly be able to blame the boy for any future betrayals. Of course, there was already one pending betrayal.

“But nothing beyond that. This place, likely sensing my impending conquering, has deigned to keep me restricted. I have had a taste of power - Ichimokuren’s to be precise - so there will be no limits at some point in the future.” He points to Judar in his own body.

The feeling that overtakes Koumei when he reunites with Kouen cannot easily be described, but can, perhaps, best be likened to the first full breath of air after one spends far too long underwater.  Just a month– just one month, such an incomparably small time– since he’s last seen his brother, to his understanding, but it feels like it’s been a year.  There’s been so much to learn and adapt to, all with no information on the wellbeing of his family.

His family that, to his understanding, had been poised to race headlong into war without him.  But with Kouen here, it’s yet a different scenario entirely.  He thinks the world of Kouha and Kougyoku, but…

Eyes closed for all of the two seconds it takes to bow, he takes a deep breath.  It quivers a little, but he maintains his composure.  (And really, even that much is embarrassing.)  Truthfully, he’s relieved above all else– and perhaps that’s the best word for it, after all.  But even as that overwhelming feeling passes, his brain is already leaps and bounds ahead of him.

(War?  What war is there left to fight?  Perhaps this way, their younger siblings will simply be allowed to walk away.  He doesn’t suspect so, but then, perhaps there’s an even more important piece of that puzzle held firmly in the teeth of Kouen’s statements…)

Questions?  Of course he has questions.  A hundred, a thousand, and more, after he fully registers what his elder brother has said.  He builds his own picture in his head, but why bother with theorizing when the answers are only a conversation away?  Why even expend the energy on speculation when he needs only to ask?

❝My brother and king, I’ve been scouring this city for any and all information I can get my hands on, trying to make sense of it.❞  He pauses, considering how best to phrase some of the things he wants to say the most.  He’s sure he wears the hallmarks of his sleepless research like a proud uniform, as ever.  He feels it too, lurking at the edges of his vision, pressing down on his shoulders, turning his blood to sludge in his veins.

Someday, when there’s more hours in the day, he’ll learn not to let study be self destruction.  Until then, he’s thankful to be used to it, at least.

❝I think I’m beginning to understand the way things work, so… I’ll be direct.  Just how long have you been here?❞

There it was.

That odd feeling returned. How long had it been since he was addressed as such? Brow furrowed as he considered the situation, and he considered what to say. Firstly, he supposed, he could answer question. Yes, he supposed, that was a good place to start.

“Hm. A few years now - with some absence in between. It is a unique place, with reading from myriad countries - and worlds.” He scratched his chin. The usual demeanor of the king would certainly seem different to his sibling and advisor, whose exhausting is worn upon him like a cowl. En looks at him, and shakes his head. “And no matter what your research will uncover, something new and unexpected will happen. There have been alternate renditions of ourselves, scenes in the woods in which we were forced to live out the worst moments of our lives - and the lives of others. This place is an island of colliding worlds. Each new person you meet will have a different tale, a different source, a different language.”

Pale hands were held out, and a long black braid fell down his back. A small sign, and he realized based on all of it exactly who it was.

“...This is...Far more complicated.”

At least Judar can fly, and luckily for Judar, Kouen was more than familiar with flying. Launching himself into the sky, he began to search for his own body.

And luckily for Kouen, with Judar’s sight, he could see everything, including where his body was. Landing gracelessly before ‘himself’, he stood, with a lack of expression uncommon on the magi’s face.

“Judar.”

Longer, still, counting this place. Looking back through this place, it had been...

Indeed, it had been a long time. Approaching his brother, he nodded in greeting. “It has been a long time. For myself, in any case.” He already felt himself speaking more, head tilting as he considered that for a moment. Even if not, he considered for a moment that he so rarely thought overmuch about his demeanor.

“...”

“If you have any question, do not hesitate to ask them. I have been here fairly consistently.” His hand rested on his blade, and he observed his younger sibling. How...

Odd.

He was quite happy to see him again, even if he did not wish this distance on any others.