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Chapter Text

~~~
(Jin)

Three days. Since the Aftokrator invasion three days had ticked by and no one, save the emergency nurses in the medical ward and agent Amatori, had so much as glimpsed Yuma. Jin had only seen a few future pathways where their success hinged upon Replica's sacrifice. The initial success and retreat had somewhat surprised him; the tidal wave of relief had been an adrenaline rush all its own. Even still, he had a feeling this may hit Yuma harder than he intended; a theory he fully meant to confirm but was rapidly having problems verifying. After recovering from his laughing fit in front of the enemy, Jin took a bit more time fully processing his surrender, aka destroying his trion body as the man refused to accept his new situation. He'd likely be staring at denial through his cell walls until his transfer to Tamakoma. While he hadn't personally told Rindo yet, Jin knew once his boss caught wind of the situation it would only be a matter of time until a deal to pull the youth into their sphere of influence was breached. The current state of Headquarters just wasn't suited to Neighbors.

Knowing Osamu's condition was unstable, but not having seen a future where he succumbed to his injuries at this stage, Jin was not feeling overly inclined to pay a visit. He would, of course he had to take care of his precious new recruits, but there were other tasks he could understandably busy himself with first.

Round after round after round. He notified Director Kido the invasion was over, but still spent a solid sixteen hours after confirming and double-checking. In all that time, he gleamed only efforts to rebuild, complaints and concerns from the citizens who survived, most of them the ungrateful blocks, though a similar story could be said for the agents. Nearly all survived though many grumbled that they wished to have fought someone stronger or not fought at all or had arrived to party a bit sooner. Everyone harbored regret, and part of him was grateful that so many people were reflecting on their performance and thinking of what to do better for next time. But in Jin's mind, there was only one person who had a right to complain in this moment and he couldn't find him anywhere. Didn't see him in anyone else's future paths. By the time the dawn of the fourth day rolled around, he was starting to worry it wasn't just Replica that had vanished through the gate. He had, unwillingly, since when was Konami so strong, taken a nap for nearly half the day which slowed his search.

By the time he awoke and wandered into the too quiet Tamakoma kitchen, Shiori and Rindo were waiting to debrief him. Another needlessly long ordeal. The Branch Chief could see him getting impatient. His eyes crinkled in the corners at Jin's increasing number of repressed sighs, distant glances, and his bouncing knee. Rindo didn't comment on the agent's appearance or behavior. Jin suspected he was fully aware what worried him so and likely held similar concerns. By the time the de-briefing and report exchanges were finished, Rindo asked what had him so bothered.

"Replica may have just been a floating data-bank to Border, but to Yuma he was his guardian, his partner, one of the only constants he'd ever had- I'm willing to go so far as to say there hasn't been a moment in time where we've seen Yuma apart from Replica."

"Hm... While you may be right, what could we possibly do about this now?"

"Even if we know it's a wild goose chase going in, it's important that we stand with Yuma here."

"A side effect suggestion?"

"There weren't many futures where Replica left, but of those not much else seemed too different, so I'm guessing we have more sway here than I initially thought. This is more elite agent advice than anything."

"Interesting. I personally think this may be a silver lining so to speak."

"How so sir?" Shiori pushed up her glasses with a frown; not quite offended by the suggestion but a bit perturbed with the lack of apparent connection to positivity.

"If what you say is true, and Yuma has been relying on a trion soldier for years, then this could be our chance to gain his trust a bit more. We relied heavily on you and Mikumo to recruit him initially, but the more people he trusts within Tamakoma the better. He's been fairly cooperative thus far but Yugo was a finicky man and I don't doubt he raised Yuma similarly. Never without reason, but one minute he's getting along great with someone and the next he had publicly humiliated them."

"Really? I sincerely doubt Yuma is the type to do such a thing."

"I'm not so sure. That is more or less how he met Midorikawa from what I've heard."

"Granted, such actions were never without reason; my guess is it had to do with Yugo's side effect, but he could be more close-lipped than Jin when it came to that sort of thing."

"If this is about his father's side effect, what does it have to do with Yuma?" Rindo fished a cigarette from his pocket with a sigh. He preferred not to light up around the kids but when certain topics rolled around he couldn't help himself. His former mentor was definitely one such topic.

"His eyes. Many of the lower ranked side effects, one's oriented towards sensory enhancement or side effect's based on minor constitutional differences, will occasionally result in physical deviations from the norm as well. Yugo had white pupils. When he lied or was in the presence of someone who spoke a lie, his pupils would turn black. Now, I haven't personally seen Yuma's pupils turn black, the kid's quick to close his eyes and play indifferent with a duck face, so he's either aware I know or suspicious by nature, but I'm willing to bet it works the same as Yugo's did."

"Do we know how he got this side effect? To my knowledge, they aren't genetic. Similar to trion levels, while those of your parents can influence the result you could just as easily get incredibly high or low levels out of nowhere. But once you're born those base stats are set. Do you think he somehow inherited it? Or did Mr. Kuga find a way to transfer his own side effect?"

"If that was the case, he must have transferred a substantial amount of his own trion as well."

"It really is a shame we can't collect the data from his fight with the neighbor but I'm sure the secrets of his black trigger will reveal themselves in time. Until then, Shiori, I'd like you to pacify Yuma. Given your extensive knowledge on trion soldiers, he should be quick to listen to your judgement. Until he comes to terms with Replica's absence, or Mikumo wakes up to speak with him, please try to help him however you can. The longer we can keep an eye on him, or keep him at base, the longer he is out of trouble."

"You got it boss!"

"Even with the high survival rate, everyone is still reeling from the fight in their own way. Jin, I order you to take another nap before you go working towards whatever future you deem best. I heard the report from Director Kido. This was the second or third best outcome, right? You did amazing. Please take a well-earned break agent Jin."

"Second or third best for Border maybe. For Mikado city at large too. But not for our agents. Our new recruits were hit especially hard. I'm so sorry."

"If you really feel the need to apologize do so to those you feel you wronged. I won't retract my initial statement or order. You did amazing Jin. Your job is to navigate the best future for Tamakoma, Border, and Mikado city at large. You did your job flawlessly. Agents will always be at risk by nature of our job. You all did amazing. No casualties in our branch. Only six communication officers in HQ succumbed to their wounds from a black trigger user; they never stood a chance. Please rest, now."
With a sigh and a heavy heart Jin retreated to his room. Shiori offered a sympathetic wave but no warm words to save him from his fate. The Boss' voice carried him towards the steps.

"I mean it! I better not see you down here for the next five hours minimum!"

~

Jin was only able to toss and turn for a few hours before he just couldn't take it anymore. After Shiori graciously agreed to the Branch Chief's orders, Jin had glimpsed Yuma. A phantom in her potential futures. Sturdy, unblinking, he stood by her. More fixture of the room than child awaiting a verdict, as Shiori typed and typed and typed. Unfortunately, the computer systems kept in the basement training area had no sense of time. By design of course, but for everyone's sanity Jin really wished he had any context at all for how long the two could be holed up down there. He'd have to offer snacks but got the feeling all he'd be asked to offer was space.

At least Yuma was there. Coming up on five days without seeing snowflake smiles or a disgruntled duck face was wearing away at his patience in the worst way. He refused to let this trip him up however, he was an elite. An elite agent wasn't afforded the luxury of 'having bad days'.

He knew at some point Yuma would have visited Osamu at the hospital. He likely spoke to Chika as well, given those two were his current motivators in life and anchors to this world. Jin didn't doubt that Yuma would prioritize the safety of those two over nearly all else. Jin also didn't doubt that the guilt he would feel within the proximity of the three he claimed to care about most, yet placed the most pressure upon during the invasion, would be near debilitating. He would have to be quick about this lest he be dragged into his own mind.
When he reached Headquarters, Mikumo had already been transferred to Mikado General Hospital. At least four eyes' condition was stable. The more time between him and the adrenaline rush that was juggling futures during the invasion, the easier it was to breath. But the easier to breath, the more time there was to reflect. He said this was one of the better outcomes, but was that something he believed? The longer he went without seeing Yuma, the more guilt grew and festered.

By the time he reached the hospital it felt as though there was a knot in his stomach. He steadfastly ignored this and, with a few flirtatious exchanges with some of the nurses that felt as though he was pulling teeth but got the desired effect of skipping paperwork, was soon brought around to Mikumo's room. He was greeted by a wall of machines, laughing, beeping, shouting that he didn't do enough to help four eyes so they were holding him together instead. His gaze darted away only to catch Chika. Statuesque in her seat, gaze fixed on four-eyes. She would be so tired by the end of this. Jin tried to fixate on her relief at Osamu waking up, but through her he saw Osamu's own guilt and regret boiling up. And here he thought these kids were a mess before. He glanced to the left at the table of presents and cards, balloons and flowers; all evidence of others who were more forthright in their care, more steadfast in their dedication to being present than he was. He who personally recruited the other two agents in the room. The two agents visibly suffering because of him.

"How's it going Ms. Chika? Glad to see you in the flesh."

"Oh! Mr.Jin! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in! I'm doing alright, thank you for asking." For the first time in as many days, Jin was almost grateful for Yuma's absence. Almost. But seeing his eyes narrow minutely at the lie would have been far preferable to the hole opening up in all the places the boy should be. Instead of calling her out, he crossed over to one of the empty seats beside her.

"How's four eyes holding up?"

"He was brought over from HQ and transferred out of the Intensive Care Unit yesterday. Since then, some people from Headquarters have been by along with everyone in Tamakoma. The doctors say he's going to be just fine though! Apparently, they're waiting for him to wake up, but no one's sure when that'll be..." Only two to four more days based on his foresight, but a forty two hour margin of error was pretty abysmal and would likely just wear down those desperately waiting to speak with their friend. Instead of offering faulty hopes, he bit his tongue and fixated on another problem. 'Everyone from Tamakoma'.

"He'll wake up soon, don't you worry."

"...That's what Yuma said too." This was the problem with his side effect. As powerful as foresight was, it provided no clues for others' past. Of course Yuma would have been by to see his friends. He'd suspected as much days ago but didn't think to visit himself. He hid behind the excuse of sleep deprivation while skirting closer to the issue at hand.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"No, I'm sorry. He stayed by Osamu's side the whole time he was at HQ. Now that his condition is stable though, he went out to look for Replica." A coldness clamped down on his chest.

"I haven't heard anything since, though."

"No worries at all. You're handling this very well Chika, especially for someone so young. I'm so, so sorry that you had to go through all of this."

"Ah, no need to apologize! I've been chased by neighbors all my life, this is normal to me. I just feel terrible that so many people were dragged into my problems this time and because of me- Because of me Osamu almost-" Jin dared not to interrupt her. The woman who barged in the room had no problems doing as much.

"Chika, I told you this isn't your fault. Those who injured and attempted to abduct you are to blame. It's always the neighbors' fault." Jin looked up to see a young woman standing firmly in the now open door. With grace, she closed herself in with them and clicked her heels over to the seat on the shaking girl's left.

"Mrs.Mikumo, I-"

"I know Chika. You've been so very brave throughout all of this. Thank you for supporting my son. You don't have to stay you know. You will be among the first I call as soon as he wakes up if you want to head home. I could even give you a ride back.

"That's- I really appreciate it Mrs.Mikumo, but after everything Osamu has done for me, I'd really like to stay here, at least until he wakes up..."

"I understand. He is incredibly lucky to have a friend like you. Won't your parents be worried though? I know if my child wasn't around for a few days, I would have the whole city out searching." Another wave of cold creeping dread tightened around his chest. Most parents would always look for their missing children. What about the children who were missing without parents? He had an incredibly valuable side effect, should he ever disappear, Border would similarly take to the streets. In Yuma's case-

"Ha ha ha, I'd believe that. It's alright though, I've been keeping my parents updated and I was with them for the past few days before Osamu was transferred here."

"If you're sure then." Seemingly satisfied that Chika wouldn't continue to beat herself with blame, the woman finally directed her eyes at Jin himself.

"Hello, another acquaintance of my son's I presume? I'm Osamu's mother; Mrs.Mikumo is fine." Acquaintance. Right.

"I'm Yuichi Jin; something of a mentor to these guys. I'd like to formally apologize for all the pain you've both been through. None of you should have ever be in danger that extreme, especially the younger agents. As their senior on the field, I take full responsibility for their safety and well being. I know this doesn't mean much now, but if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. I'm sorry I didn't act differently. Next time, I will be doing more to make sure everyone gets the best possible outcome. "

"I appreciate your kind words young man, but the doctor's assure me it's just a bit of a waiting game at the moment; not much can be done. And while I accept you're apology, there's no need for one. You weren't the one who hurt my son, after all."

'No, but I may as well have been.'

"Still, I'm sorry you have to deal with this. I know everyone's lives have been disrupted by the attack but tending to the injured is no easy feat."

"We all do our part Jin. Everyone survived thanks to the efforts of Border."

He looked at the glasses-less figure bandaged on the bed. He thought of all the photos he'd seen staked on Netsuki's desk earlier; the missing C rank agents. Thought of the similar stack on Kinuta's desk for all the non-combat personal who had perished or were injured when the Black Trigger rampaged through headquarters. He did not dare glance at Chika who had bottled her self-blame back in a jar to analyze in the interior of her mind. While he appreciated the placations offered by Mrs. Mikumo, some people just had to air their grievances out else they would fester and rot and grow unrecognizable in the recesses of their own mind.

"Heard loud and clear. Since you ladies have this under control I'll let four eyes get his beauty sleep. Sorry again, for all of this." He slid the door soundly shut behind him. With a quick breath, he flicked his sunglasses up and set out on his search. He may not be an entire city, or all of Border armed to the teeth, but he was an elite agent. Whether that title was self proclaimed or not, he would wield it and everything else within his power. There was still a missing person, after all. He prayed Yuma wanted to be found.

~

It was more difficult than he had expected. Not long after his initial search began he called in a favor with Ayatsuji, operator of Arashiyama squad, who was thankfully off-duty at the time so he could at least narrow down the zone. After she talked him through all the quadrants in the forbidden zone that had been swept by defense agents lately, none of whom had seen the boy, and looking back through the paths charted by the C-rank agents during the attack, he was able to narrow his search down to five different areas. A couple more hours later his third spot yielded results. Almost six hours after he left the hospital, Jin accomplished his goal of seeing Yuma.

He heard the sounds of debris shifting before Jin saw him. Yuma was curled down amidst asphalt and broken support beams. What was normally white fluff nearly blended into the rubble from the amount of dust caked in. The school uniform he left the base in four days ago was dirty and ripped in multiple spots. His pants completely worn through at the knees likely from constant crawling and kneeling. He moved another block aside to half bury his arm beneath a beam. Jin watched as the boy blindly felt about the dark for something they both knew wasn't there.

"Hi, Yuma. Are you planning to search the whole zone?"

"Oh, Jin." He halfheartedly brushed some dust from his pants as he arose from the destruction they were currently cradled in. He did not deign to speak further. Jin didn't blame him, but for a fleeting moment, he wished he could run from that gaze; haunted and knowing too many heavy truths to value a lie, and most of the pathways that parted from him. He blinked down at the boy before him.

"I can help if you want. It's not much, but if I think back on all the places I saw Replica in my visions, maybe we can figure out a map of places he may have been. No fine detail." He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned; hopefully honesty was all he'd given off. Just in case-

"I really would like to help, though. If you'll let me."

"...Okay." Quiet yet steady. Yuma knelt back to where he left off. Jin took a deep breath, closed his eyes and prepared for the day to be a bit longer. He had already inhaled three bags of fried rice crackers and an energy drink from a gas station he'd used the bathroom in an hour back. Didn't seem like he would be getting a break anytime soon.

Initially, his only concern had been finding Yuma. He tended to think that so long as he had eyes on someone they were safe. Doubly so with his side effect since not only would he receive advance warning if someone would be in danger, but he could also keep track of people through their interactions with others in visions he saw of them. For example, he rarely saw agent Amatori in person, yet he saw her frequently in Yuma and four eyes' futures, so he rarely worried about her. Since they parted ways in the Invasion, Jin hadn't seen heads or tails of Yuma in person or via others' futures. Never re-assuring. As soon as he had eyes on him however a whole new wave of worries washed away the old ones. There were a scant few future pathways he saw where Yuma was... Yuma? That felt an odd thought given how little he had known the boy for, but he had always been amicable if a bit withdrawn by nature, or necessity. Yet as soon as he saw Yuma, got close to him, he felt farther than ever. In nearly all the futures he saw the boy was by himself. Alone in the restricted zone. Alone on a ledge. Alone in a room. Alone in spacious and narrow halls alike. Drifting from no where to no where. There were waves of smiles, washes of others. But those waves of 'fun' faded faster the further forward he looked. Had he already lied to Yuma?
He helped him search for as many hours as the day provided. The two mostly stayed apart. Always within periphery of one another. A few times, he thought he lost sight of the kid, only for him to pop up from behind a wall or walk away from a sign. Once he saw Yuma wandering back after actually having drifted too far and tried not to celebrate that he was choosing company in this moment. Somber in their search, the silence stretched, punctuated by a poorly placed pebble or the clatter of buildings resettling. At seemingly random moments Yuma would decide an area had been searched enough, or that some other spot was better. He'd turn to Jin, point at a place only he could see, then trudge off across the ruins. Jin would follow. Occasionally he caught up to point toward a place that seemed familiar. They would stop, turn over all the visible piles and kick across shadows until Yuma once again set to drift toward the next spot. When dusk descended, and Jin could no longer safely walk without tripping over chunks of cement, he broke the uneasy silence.

"How much longer do you want to search?"

"Until I find him." Yuma trudged on. The boy had personally shared his past of fighting on and on and on. He also shared that his current body was made of trion. He never got more specific, but there was a lot Jin could infer from these two facts alone. The present and future reality before him spoke volumes about his past. He would have felt sick had he not continued to remain in a trion body himself; a fact he was initially thankful for until he realized Yuma probably hadn't felt such sensations, however unwanted they may be, in years. A whole new wave of unease washed over him. But the band-aid had to be ripped off. A continued search would yield nothing and they both knew as much. He spoke soft and definitive.

"...We're not going to find him, Yuma. Not here."

"Then where...?"

"He was on the away ship to Aftokrator."

"...I see."

Yuma stood still as a doll in the wreckage of the world. Jin watched his ruby red eyes continue to traverse nooks and crannies even as his head and hands stilled; starting to wind round the reality that further action would be futile. He didn't dare look away as the boy beside him gathered up the scraps of hope he had clung to, as a parent would a child's hand in times of need, and let them go with the wind. He had never seemed so empty, so close to a kid, than in that moment. 'I did this to him. I sent Replica away. I told him he's not coming home.'

"Shiori may be able to help."

"You just said we wouldn't find him."

"That's true. But just because we don't succeed today, doesn't mean we can't help. It's not much, but maybe she can scan what's left of him. Try to find some sort of tracker, or lingering communication channel, or even just a way to tell if he's still functioning." Yuma stared into Jin; eyes hollow but pupils white; bled dry of color and life alike. He hadn't done that to the boy, but his actions were perpetuating that look. There wasn't a future where he could figure out what was going on in the kid's head. He wasn't brave enough to cross the no man's land of silence that had shrouded those small, stiff shoulders.

"Sure." He caved, expression unchanged. Jin offered a smile.

"Alright. Let's go home." It took a few seconds before he heard faint footsteps behind him. Any placation or reassurance he had been throwing at others for the past couple days died on his tongue. 'This was the second or third best outcome' didn't hold up well to the weight of the boy's stalwart companion being taken and his first human friend in who knows how long being in a coma. 'Everyone did their best' was assumed, to speak such would only incite doubt even if he spoke honestly. 'It wasn't your fault' while true, may just break something lose in the boy. Whose fault was it? Yuma was very much like himself in that the rational part of his brain all but smothered the emotional; he clearly favored action to hypotheticals. So to rid him of a target for the grief he was no doubt running from would be-

"Where exactly are we going?"

How long had it been since he'd eaten? Since he slept? He knew most people wouldn't be overly happy with his own answers to those questions, but he was almost twenty. Yuma was so small...

"We're going home."

"...I haven't had a home since I was five." He didn't sound bitter necessarily, but there was an undercurrent of accusation in his tone.

"Back to Tamakoma Branch, if you want. Shiori has the equipment to analyze your mini Replica there."

"Okay."

"We can also get something to eat-"

"No thank you."

"Yuma-"

"I'm not hungry. I just want to focus on finding my partner. I don't need any distractions right now."

His heart plummeted to his stomach. 'Taking care of yourself is a necessity.' 'Your well-being matters; it's not a distraction to take care of yourself!' 'Is this what Replica would want?' Instead of spewing forth any of the truths that fought to leap from his chest, Jin chose not to push him any further. The pair returned home, to the military base they currently occupied, in silence.

Chapter Text

"We're home!" Jin sung out. The base was empty. Even Rajinmaru had better things to do it seemed. Yuma's trion visage trudged after him regardless: straight as a board, numb as an ice block, mind recessing in the wake of a maelstrom. Not a thought, not a care. He felt nothing at all as he all but floated into the kitchen after the agent who had begun to busy himself with a hum.

The amenities were small, only a few agents operated under this branch after all, yet they were high quality. The stronger the military asset, they better they were treated. He had not lied to Chika about that. He avoided lying whenever he could these days. Same as he did his reflection as he glanced toward the bright Meeden- Earth- void beyond a fragile square of glass. At least with darkness settled there would be stars tonight.

"There's not many people here at the moment; Konami and Karasuma are on defense duty and Rindo and Yotaro are out."

"Reghi?"

"He's here but downstairs guarding the prisoner I took in after the invasion. He shouldn't cause any problems just regulation stuff."

"Chika?"

"Ah. Agent Amatori has been staying at the hospital these days."

"Oh. I see." So Chika had taken the role of guarding Osamu. Surely he had a support network though; a safety net of parents or grown ups who cared enough to stop him from trying to-

"How is he doing? Osamu?"

"I'm surprised you waited this long to ask."

"Well if there was news one way or another you likely would have said as much from the start."

"You've got me there."

"So Osamu is still asleep?"

"He was stabbed multiple times, relatively small, recoverable injuries, but puncture wounds all the same. He needs time to heal."

"I know that. I know that just-"

Not everyone gets to be made of-

"Shiori? When will she return? You said she would examine mini Replica." That hadn't been a lie but whatever Jin had his hands full with in the kitchen now clearly didn't involve Yuma's search.

"She's out with her parents for now but having told her about the situation, she should be in first thing tomorrow morning. Seven at the latest."

He was supposed to wait ten hours before he could even start to learn anything about his partner? His guardian? His first friend? The only constant he'd ever really had in life and death and whatever in between his existence was now? What would he even do for all that time? The fighting was over. He had no other skills. Jin, the former S rank, current elite with a powerful side effect, he not only defeated his enemy but captured him unharmed on both sides. Clearly a top notch warrior. And a cook based on the sizzling smells that drifted from the seeming mess the kitchen was becoming. A reliable friend to his fellow agents... Jin had many talents. Yuma had one really and thus was of no use to anyone outside of combat. No wonder Osamu was so frustrated with him those first few days. No wonder Jin kept dragging him under Tamakoma's roof so he wouldn't be endangering citizens. He thought he heard a voice above the sizzling from the stove top but couldn't force his eyes to focus enough to look. The meal would be wasted on him. The boy felt frayed; a burlap bag of grain sliced open yet still expected to hold in all its contents. He wasn't even sure if he had a stomach anymore. The status of his living body was something he left to-

"I'll keep looking then, when Shiori comes back-"

"Yuma. I told you."

"...So? I'm even less likely to find him by doing nothing at all."

"Yuma..."

"It's not right to just sit around when my partner needs me. I have- I need to try. Something at least."

"My side effect has always told me that honesty is the best policy with you Yuma, much as I love secret maneuvers as Konami claims, you're too tuned in to that sort of thing. Even if you weren't I'd feel bad using that sort of tactic against someone I care about. So here's the truth Yuma. At this point there is no version of the future I see where we find Replica in Japan. There's information that people like Shiori with our technology at Tamakoma and Director Kinuta of Research and Development at Headquarters can get from analyzing the mini Replica you have. You'll have to get selected for an away mission to Aftokrator to go look for him with your team."

He took strides back as if burned. Jin refused to move. He watched the neighbor boy with as little judgement as he could hold. Yuma still saw the pity that lurked behind blue eyes. He hated it. Hated how that was one of the more real emotions being shoved in his face. He dreaded the idea of Osamu offering the same look. If- When he woke up would he blame himself? How hard would Yuma have to try to convince him otherwise? Was that something he was able to do? This wasn't Osamu's fault for having Replica's main body with him, or Jin's fault for warning him of the urgency of their situation. This was his fault. Per usual. He told Replica to go. His fault. People got hurt again. Others lost their lives-
But that wasn't really true either. The 'life' lost was merely that of a trion soldier. A puppet. A doll of destruction. (Like himself.) Would his departure be counted among the losses? Did Border even know? Did they care? He sincerely doubted it. From the stiffness in Jin's smile, he knew too.

"Do you see a future where he's found?"

"The future is a complex ever-moving thing; the further away or more uncertain something is the less clear or likely it is. Especially when there's parties involved I don't know about. I really can't say for sure but there are some pathways where I see Replica floating by you again."

Something about Jin's phrasing churned within him; sand from the kick off the bottom of a river bed. He didn't say not, but that was far from a yes.

"How about we sit down and split an early dinner together. Some others will be by later too so-"

"If I agree, will you let me go?"

"...Is that what you want Yuma?"

He just wanted to talk to Osamu. The boy had served as his anchor, his confident, his friend almost since he got here. In the absence of Replica, of his Dad, he wanted Osamu. If only to know he would wake up. To hear his voice again. Alive. Real. A savior to so many. He always helped those in need. He just couldn't help it, regardless of what he said. Just like his Dad. He couldn't die. Just like-

"Shiori will arrive by seven. Please stay until then Yuma. We can do whatever you want here."

What he wanted was a hug from a corpse, the murmurs of a machine, for cuts on his wrist to linger and sting and remind him rather than reseal right away. Nothing he wanted was possible. Hadn't been since Osamu offered hope. He was in a hospital bed, surrounded by people who cared for him. Yuma wanted that so badly. To be hurt. To be given the chance to recover. To be beside people who cared. What he wanted wasn't real. Not for him.

"I want to be alone."

"...Are you sure? There's plenty we can get up to-"

"Thank you, Jin. But I've taken up enough of your time. When Shiori gets here, please tell her to meet me on the roof."

"Consider it done; but only if you promise to meet her up there yourself."

"Okay. I need to stick around in case Replica comes back anyway." Food yet unfinished, Yuma fully detached from humanity to drift towards the stars. Gravity may have locked his fake body to earth but his mind had long since wandered far from here. Maybe if he drifted for long enough he could join Osamu and Replica in their dreams. Maybe if he drifted even further, he may just glimpse his Dad.

~

For the nine hours that followed he sat still. A fixture on the roof; eyes locked on the stars. Left hand encased in the right. His dad's trigger felt like one of those lead bullets that night. He had unknowingly left himself with no sense of time. He knew that after the splashes of color chased away the stars that emerged day was present. But the by hour numerically adjacent symbols ascribed to this planet and the devices used to measure the passing of time were lost to him. That was yet another thing he left to Replica. For as insistent as his partner was that decisions firmly be his own, there was not too much he had directly taken care of when it came to non-combat affairs. Granted, his expertise was valuable beyond the battlefield in adjacent situations: hostile board rooms, intel collection and reconnaissance, negotiations between factions, predicting others movements and patterns; suffice to say if there was an identifiable enemy, his father had trained him to be capable of disabling them. Or at bare minimum providing a strategy that could lead to their neutralization or death. If he had practical use as a military asset he would always be offered food and board, his Dad assured.
Some point after what he assumed was seven, Shiori came to find him.

"Hi Yuma. How are you doing?"

"Shiori. Hello. You can analyze what's left of Replica, right? Will that be able to tell you where the rest of him is? Or how he's doing?"

Her stretched smile shifted shape as the glint across her glasses hid her eyes from inspection.

"I can examine him and try to analyze as much as possible. I didn't think to run any tests on Replica before for a baseline, but I'm sure we can figure out something that helps."

"Hm."

"Will you come with me downstairs? I have the equipment to analyze Replica down in the basement. We could grab some breakfast on the way if want."

He did not reply. Though he did pry himself from the ledge and trudge in the general direction of the door. Shiori's smile upon his approach was steady. While thankful, he couldn't bring himself to offer her one in return.

On the fifth day after the Invasion Shiori began her inspection of mini Replica. For the next two and a half days the pair did not leave the room. Well, Shiori left for a few minutes every nine hours or so to use the restroom and restock on snacks and drinks. Based on the stilted attempts at conversation she made during the first twenty four hours, she was likely speaking with some of the branch members too. He didn't ask. She tried to tell him anyway.

"Yuma, come give this a try! Jin said you haven't eaten much since you got back, it's a slice of peach cobbler pie. Super tasty! Want to try a bite? I can always grab one for you next time I have to resurface. Or you could grab one yourself, the other agents were circling like vultures, there honestly may not be any left later."

"Did you know Border gives awards to excellent agents? Or 'elite's as Jin would say. You got one such award Yuma! So did Osamu, Konami, Jin, Reghi, and Karasuma. They all just got service awards though. Yours was a special service award! The only other black trigger user taken down was the one who infiltrated headquarters. That humanoid required dozens of agents, the subtle use of Border technologies and Director Shinoda himself taking the field in order for him to be neutralized. You took down the other black trigger user in single combat. Quite impressive! May I ask how you did it?"

"Hey, Yuma, I bumped into Reighi upstairs. He was about to take Yotaro to go visit Mikumo at the hospital. Do you want to join them? I'll let you know as soon as I have any updates!"

"Oh! According to this data here, some triggers could have atmospheric effects! Isn't that neat? I wonder if the trigger we confiscated from the prisoner Jin brought us was a prototype for that technology. You've visited Aftokrator before haven't you Yuma? What do you think?"

"Would you like some of my tea Yuma? It'll help keep you focused!"

"Is there anything you want to talk about Yuma?"

"You don't have to stay down here with me you know. Yotaro is always looking for someone to watch things with. You're still pretty new to the idea of televisions right? Maybe you two could watch a movie or something!"

Her positivity never ended. Though as the hours dragged into days the frequency of her voice breaking the space diminished. The last sixteen hours or so, scant a word or look was exchanged. Shiori still smiled when she stretched and saw him hovering. She still waved and told him the meanings of random graphs as she stumbled upon information he may find helpful or mildly relevant to the task at hand. But Yuma never spoke back. He was grateful that she kept up the act regardless, even if only for her own sanity.
Yuma stood stiff and fixated on the screens the whole time. He was a bit envious of Shiori's proficiency with the machines; had he even a fraction of her talent she would not be trapped here pulling back to back all-nighters. Without windows in the room, there was no visible way for him to track the time other than the frequency of Shiori's departures.

Those few minutes felt like agony. The sleepy presence of another was his only connection to reality at the moment. As soon as she left the screens became beacons of deceit; blinding and judgmental of his lack of knowledge. He was begrudging to ask questions, to learn, to properly search himself. Deep down, he knew this was all a fool's errand. A show they were both performing; and for what? Had Shiori been given an order by the branch chief? Or was it a request from Jin who saw the futures where he couldn't take a night truly alone? Perhaps Shiori really was that kind and she wanted to help a fellow agent? He also knew that Rindo and Shiori both asked after Replica's functionality and knowledge after learning about him, maybe they were able to gleam how valuable a resource he truly was and were trying to ascertain the status of their perceived asset.

'A Tropei Autonomous Soldier. How rare to sight one.' The old warrior's voice held brevity. A wondrous sort of reverence. He had known. He had Replica now. Did that mean Aftokrator knew too?

"Yuma?"

'Take a deep breath Yuma you need to center yourself.' Replica's voice played within his head as he puffed out a fake breath. Nice and slow. Even. Steady. Fake, all of it, but his body was quite rigid with subtleties. That stiffness masked the futility he liked to think. Trion bodies were the same as real ones at a glance; built to be lived in for hours not years the truth of their nature was revealed over time. After a few more fake falls of his chest, he took the time to tune into Shirori's one-sided conversation.

"-so next I'll refer back to our original hypothesis and start researching different frequencies."

There was nothing she could do. Nothing any of them could. Still, she took the time to play pretend with him anyways. He was at once brutally offended and profoundly moved by the kindness of her actions. Regardless of what may have incentivized her. He would always be grateful for her help here. Any attempts were still foreign for him. How he yearned for Osamu's steady gaze. Brow furrowed as he whirled through possibilities until he leapt forward having latched onto the one that best served his altruistic needs. Or Replica's steady tone as he helped talk him through a situation; bringing up all the right points and subtle clues to trick Yuma into thinking he reached the conclusion on his own. Did either of them honestly believe he could survive independently? That he was capable of making his own decisions? That was the one thing his Dad tried to teach him in the end. He couldn't be a failure. That would taint his Dad's legacy. The remains of his name. Decisions were for Yuma to make; no matter how horrible the outcome he wrought.

"...Thank you Shiori." Her head whipped back at his voice. Soft and steady. The same monotone drone Yuma always spoke in. This was the first he'd spoken today though his eyes were still focused on something beyond her sight or awareness. She offered a smile nonetheless.

"Of course, Yuma. It's the least I could do after all the useful information Replica was able to provide."

His hands balled into fists. Palms close to cracking from the tightness found within. Of course this was for Replica. Their actions were in solidarity of his father. He was just-

"You know, I bumped into Konami upstairs. She was asking about you. Said she made her special curry with you in mind. I know they have warm leftovers still if-"

"No thank you. This is more important."

"Yuma... You still need to take care of yourself."

"I am. It's not essential for this body to consume food; ultimately, if I have access to trion then I'll be fine. Getting Replica back is the best thing I can be doing right now."

Shiori didn't know what to say to that so she kept typing in solidarity. He suspected that some of the agents had questions about his insistence that food and sleep, water and rest were all the problems of others. The fact he physically demonstrated no signs to the contrary likely helped. Part of him wanted to be pleasantly surprised no one questioned him. They must trust him to make his own decisions. Without even speaking the lie he could taste it on his tongue. A field of ash. He had suspected the moment Jin asked after his 'story' with his dad that the others were told. That his past, deeply flawed nature and poor decision-making had been spelled out for all to see. There was no point in with-holding that information. Out of a dying sense of duty he had answered the man's request. For the first time since the incident, since his fight with Izukacha, he shared his story. The people whom his father trusted, those who cleaned a shrine to the remains of his father's idealistic future of Border, for the people the man clearly meant to have inherit his trigger once his idiot of a son finally, for once, listened. Only Yuma had neither left nor died. Now he was trapped by people who knew his sins. Could point out the stillness to his stance as a by-product of arrogance rather than a disciplined practice. The worst was not knowing who all had been told. Who could he trust? Who was it safe to share things with? Who could see him fall apart and still think there was some semblance of a person trying to hold things together? He felt like a kid clutching the building blocks of a life in his hand. A hand trapped in a jar; unable to free itself until it's finger loosened. Unable to loosen them without letting go of everything that let him consider himself human.

Their fragile routine of fixate and type, drown and depart, realign and offer words came to an abrupt halt two and a half days in with a knock at the door.

"Hey Shiori, Yuma, how's it going in here?

"Oh hi Boss. Like I thought, Replica's design is top of the line and tight with it's secrets. I wasn't able to learn to much from the mini duplicate. But based on the research and calculations I've been doing, and knowing Replica is a trion soldier, I can deduce with ninety nine percent certainty that Replica is still alive. To keep the explanation simple, since this mini Replica is still here, the main body is still in tact and operable. My guess is the main body entered recovery mode or an equivalent safety mode that excluded control of the mini, and or equally likely, because the main body ended up on Aftokrator's ship, now that we're so far away the mini is out of range of the primary body's control. But regardless of the circumstance the fact remains that trion bodies without a power supply or cognitive center aren't stable enough to maintain a form and crumble away. So long as the mini is here Replica is alive!"

"..."

"Great to hear, Shiori! Thank you so much for all of your help and hard work!"

"Of course, Boss! How's Osamu doing? Have you heard anything yet?"

"Right, that's why I came. Agent Mikumo is awake. He's able to talk with visitors and should be discharged by the end of today. I'm sure he'd love to see both of you."

"Of course! He probably needs to be briefed on everything that happened while he was resting."

"I would appreciate it Shiori, but please don't forget to rest yourself."

"Trust me, as soon as I'm finished saying hi to Mikumo at the hospital, I'm going home to pass out. I'll go print those files and get going. Yuma... I bet Osamu will be happy to see you. You should go visit him sooner rather than later."

She offered a final smile and with that was gone. The screens no longer made sense to him. His eyes fell to the miniature Replica left on the desk. Rindo still stood in the doorway. Yuma had yet to speak. Nor look in his direction.

"We've done all we can Yuma. I won't try to rush you, but at some point, Konami wanted to start sparring in this room again. Maybe you can entertain her this afternoon? After you're back from visiting Mikumo at the hospital of course."

"..."

"Yuma-"

The boy trudged forward to pick up the mini Replica from the desk. He turned, wordlessly, and departed from the room.

"Would you like a ride Yuma? To the hospital I mean? Or maybe back to where you've been staying for a change of clothes?"

"No thank you." He still did not look at the man.

"Can I at least get you something to eat?"

"I don't need it. Thank you for offering."

"May I ask what you plan on doing?"

It took everything within Yuma not to snap at this man. He bite his tongue and did wind up frozen mid step. The Branch Chief was trying to stall. A holding action. He probably wanted to prevent him from self destructing. Was he being that obvious? Did he want to stop the implosion as a potential ally or to prevent the loss of a valuable military asset? He had to know his Dad's trigger would never work for anyone else. The people who knew his Dad must know too. Did they figure out the truth of his death as well?

"You don't have to worry. I promised Osamu that we'd help Chika get on the away mission. We haven't even started our climb to A rank yet. I'll be back to train with Ms. Konami after Osamu is fully recovered. Or if you summon us for Border duties, whichever comes first."

"If you're sure then, but everyone needs to eat Yuma, please remember to take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah. See ya." Yuma donned a duckface as he waved and walked away. He heard a ruckus from his left. Caught a glimpse of Konami chasing Yotaro. Reghi's voice echoed deep and steady, attempting to placate the pair while Karasuma chuckled. He heard Jin's laugh too. He assumed Shiori was still printing files whilst Rindo prepared the car. Yuma slid past the cracked living room door quiet as he could. The ghosts who roiled round his mind had yet to tamper down; he had no place in the space as he was. The past couple weeks of training and reconciling felt a lost cause at that moment. This was a room of acquaintances at best. Possible future detainees of his Dad's trigger at worst. His body nearly stopped as the smell of curry hit him like a car. His stomach growled and throbbed while he forced his feet forwards. Whether Jin had seen him then or with his side effect earlier Yuma was unsure but the other boy seemed to call out as he made his way to the front door.

"We're leaving for the hospital in five, plenty of seats!"

"What're you yelling for Jin?! What exactly do you suppose this fight is about if not the right to shotgun?"

"It's my birthright!"

"Can it Yotaro, you're not tall enough to see out the window yet, you couldn't possibly appreciate the honor of-"

He closed the heavy door slowly behind him, so as not to be more of a bother, and just breathed for a moment. Except the breaths were fake.

'You're not fake Yuma. Even if your body feels like a simulation of your original one, that's all the more reason to get it back. There are positive sides to this. It's not easy, but where you focus your attention is your decision too.' Right. Tactics. Methods of approach. He was going to see Osamu. Osamu who saved his life, who gave him purpose, an outstretched hand, hope, a chance. Osamu who was the first person to even attempt to stand up for him since- Since- He forced out another breath. The street he stumbled upon was busy. Crowded by foot traffic, his sudden seizure of movement made others grunt and glare. He was quickly buffeted about as others poorly navigated around him.

~

He let the current carry him down a ways before he turned and trudged the familiar path from the military organization currently employing him and his temporary residence. Upon arrival he went through the routine of making himself presentable, devoured a few slices of leftover pizza and re pocketed the mini Replica before he wandered into a strange world once more.

Except he had not the slightest clue as to where he was going. Another failure. Another breath. Navigating with half baked decisions and another person's goal wasn't going to work anymore. If he could just ask for directions. Surely that wasn't so strange. He could navigate this world properly alone. It had been a month after all. Sure the Tamakoma branch had taken to sheltering him, and he was used to Replica's whispers in his ear, but he had been trained for this. This is one of the things his Dad raised him to do; fight. His Dad didn't make mistakes. He would go to Osamu, reassure him that he would still help them achieve their goals and then-

"Excuse me sir, do you know where Mikado General Hospital is?" Rinse and repeat he asked and asked.

"Haven't you ever heard of stranger danger kid? Get lost."

"I don't know; just look it up on your phone. Creep."

"Yeah, look at his hair. What grade-schooler does that?"

"Didn't your Mom ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Almost a decade had passed since he was given the chance to be scolded by her. Meedenites- er. Japanese were not nearly so helpful as his captain. There was a reason he worshiped Osamu after all.

Eventually, after nearly being chased off the block, an elderly man provided him a general description of the way there. He trudged on and paid extra attention to stop and stand for unnecessarily long amounts of time so as to avoid being hit by a car yet again. He refused to have one of the first things Osamu do be scold him. Soon. He would be able to hear Osamu's voice again soon.

Chapter Text

The world washed over him in waves. Blurry bits of grey. Heads of black. Blobs and-

"Osamu." 'Mom?' A quick glance to his right yielded the familiar fuzzy shape of his glasses. He quickly slid them on and shimmied to sit up right. His body immediately screamed in protest whilst he bit back groans and moans of pain. His mind, while hazy, sharpened at the dull pulses throbbed through his leg and side. Considering he had been stabbed in multiple places, the feeling wasn't quite so bad. His vision wandered towards the form leaned against his mother. 'Thank goodness she's safe and back to normal. Everything's fine now.'

"Chika hasn't left your side, in all this time. Nor has she cried once, despite the condition you're in. I think you should open your heart to her more than you do."

He wanted to smile, yet this didn't feel right. Osamu knew Chika took after him when it came to their tendency to blame themselves. It was something Rinji had scolded them both for often. In his wake, he tried to deter Chika from such behaviors but could never shake them lose entirely from himself. Jin helped though. Jin and- His eyes darted round the rest if the room. The other part of his mother's statement that felt out of place was the fact it was Chika by his side. He valued her as a friend, he was so immensely thankful for even the chance to see her in the flesh once again. So why did it feel as though the wrong person was here? His gaze caught on the table near the door. Near overflowing with trinkets and flowers, stuffed animals and balloons. An array of sympathies spread out undoubtedly over time. But who could have possibly forgotten so much-?

"Those are mostly from Tamakoma members. Every day one of the senior agents would stop by to check on you. While you were asleep others came to visit you as well." At his start of surprise she started to recount the various figures she'd encountered while he slept on. Director Shinoda and his assistant, Arashiyama and Kitora, Branch Chief Rindo and Yotaro, the aforementioned Tamakoma mentors, Kazama, even Yoneya with Izumi and Midorikawa.

"-Also, your tutor from Tamakoma branch was here and he kept apologizing to Chika and I."

'Jin was here? But why would he be-' Movement beside his mother cut both off from further thought. Magenta blinked lazily, dulled only by sleep and the lack of light. She looked the same as always. His frayed nerves sung.

"Osamu... You're awake! I'm so glad! How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"I can still feel my wounds, yeah. How are you feeling Chika? I'm glad to see HQ was able to get you back to normal."

"Mhm! It was all thanks to you Osamu! I owe you my life." 'Thanks to... Me? Owe someone they're...?'

"It was my fault that happened to you in the first place, so... Yeah. Everyone fought hard it wasn't just me. And anyway, I can't take all the credit. Everyone was just doing the best they could..."

"A lot of growing up to do." His eyes shot over to the unmoved mountain of his mother. She slid her own eyes away with a sigh. A concession. There would be mercy tonight. But he had a sinking suspicion that once they returned to the privacy of their home he would be getting a dozen and a half lectures for his actions and decision making.

"Just thinking out loud son."

"Enough about me. Chika, how's Yuma?" Her subtle flinch and retreat spoke volumes. He tried not to over analyze the sudden straightening of her spine when his mother spoke up once more.

"Yuma? I don't believe I've met anyone with that name." 'Not good. Then that would mean-'

"The thing is... Yuma said he had to take care of something, so he hasn't come by lately... But I'm sure now that you've woken up Osamu, he'll be here really soon! Maybe he'll come by tomorrow!"

"I hope so..." 'Yuma...' Last he'd seen of the other he'd disobeyed Kido's orders to save them from two humanoid neighbors. One wielding a black trigger and another whom Jin personally planned to fight off. They were up against elite fighters, did they both come out okay? Not that he doubted them, two of the most competent fighters he knew, but everyone has limits. Had they lost anyone besides Replica in the fight? Were all the agents who were turned into cubes safely reverted back? Did all the C rank agents make it out okay? What about Headquarters? He vaguely remembered hearing it was under siege, did everyone survive? Was-

"Osamu. Everyone else is fine. Your friends and instructors will stop by tomorrow. They can happily answer all of your questions in the morning. For now, try your best to relax. I'll go let the nurses know you're awake."

"Alright." He watched her exit, door closed quietly behind her. He winced, his wounds choosing that moment to throb vengefully. A stark reminder.

~
"Oh, nice you're here." Osamu tilted his head slightly. He understood his operator was quite clearly sleep deprived, even still her choice for parting words was strange. Yet it was not Shiori's form that came from the hall again but another familiar face. Short yet sturdy stance. Blasé smile. A jovial wave despite their current location, situation, the circumstances under which they last parted, etc.

"How's it going, Osamu?"

"...Yuma." The boy stared at him somewhat expectantly. Only after a second or two of staring did he register a question had been asked.

"Good, er fine. I've been better, unsurprisingly but being up on my feet should help. Why don't we head up to the roof for a bit. Some fresh air sounds nice." He hoped he only looked half as frazzled as he felt. Tamakoma's roof had seemed a fitting backdrop for their previous conversation. This stuffy hospital room was hardly appropriate. Not to mention not near private enough. He wanted to give Yuma the space to mourn, to air his grievances. He deserved to be eviscerated and on the off chance his Mother and Chika returned from lunch early he didn't want to risk interruption. Not with this.

He struggled with his coat for far longer than he should have before Yuma wordlessly walked over and buttoned him up. His right arm became thoroughly trapped as a result. Yet despite the myriad of reasons the shorter boy had to enact vengeance, he instead supported helped his friend silently shuffle into the hallway.

"Ah, the elevator was to the right." Their course shifted. The subtle sounds of the elevator felt to be screams. Silence sat thick between them though neither seemed willing to break it before being beneath the sky. Even then, alone together on the empty roof, crisp air calling, the sun waving from above, he didn't have the heart to speak. After Yuma helped to gently and wordlessly slip him onto one side of the bench the other boy did not sit in the empty space. Nor did he occupy the empty space to his right. Yuma stood silently, gaze fixed in the direction of the Border base clear on the other side of the bench. A mile between them. He shimmied and spent as long as he could repositioning in guise of forming words. 'Sorry your only family member is gone?' 'I'm sorry for being too weak to survive on my own?' 'I wish it had been me?' 'I didn't think your robot would be suicidal too?'

"I guess we need to talk about Replica." He didn't flinch. He refused to runaway from this. He was better than that. Yuma deserved better than that.
"According to Shiroi, if Replica was dead then this mini Replica would be gone too. She spent days researching this problem for me so I'm sure she's correct. This right here is proof that he's still alive. Now we have all the more reason to get A rank and selected for an away mission fast!"

He had never seen the other boy's smile stretched so wide. The way he forced his eyes closed pronounced his overly round cheeks in a way Osamu was wholly unprepared for. Yuma had been so young when he lost everything before and now it was happening again? It wasn't fair.
'Poor Yuma. He's trying so hard so I don't feel guilty. Replica....'

"Yuma I'm sorry. Because of me, Replica is gone. If I had... If I had been stronger then maybe..."

"You're wrong about that. Replica was acting on my orders. 'Protect Chika and Osamu' was what I asked of Replica. He followed that order perfectly. That's my partner for you. He completed his mission even after being chopped in half. If anything, you should be singing his praises more." As soon as he saw the other boy throw out a duck face he knew it would be impossible to apologize with words. Yuma was not going to allow him to take the blame for this now, possibly ever. Then who was to blame? What was Yuma supposed to do now? How was he not upset?

Osamu fought off the wave of despair best he could. Yet all he could think of was Yuma's tiny form curled up on the ground a bloody mess. His own injuries throbbed. Yuma didn't have that luxury. The option to heal and recover and feel better. There was no hospital for him to be rushed to when he needed it most. He'd already lost so much. This wasn't fair at all. How had he been so careless with something so valuable? Replica...

"Please don't cry." He lurched forward slightly; unaware he had lost the battle to keep his emotions locked away. Another failure. Another outlet denied to Yuma. When was the last time the other boy cried? Could trion bodies even cry?

"Just the wounds acting up."

~
The subsequent events were a rollercoaster. Naraska pulled him from his room immediately. Yuma helped him with his coat once more. He had to confront the fact everyone mistook his mom for his sister, yet again, then they were off. The press conference was a blur. Initially, a great pain had nearly drowned him. He had been submerged by the story told by the adults before him. His fault. Beaten back. Defeated before he took to the field, before he had a chance to help, before he-

"I can't. If what they're saying is true, this really is my fault."

He felt his immovable mother shift beside him and nearly prepared to hunker down for the onslaught when-

"Osamu. Don't ever tell lies that aren't funny." Green eyes flew open to seek out red. There. Locked on with the precursors of a glare. He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd seen Kuga mad, despite the frequency of horrible situations he often found himself in. Once, when he'd overwhelmed the boy with his insistence violence was not a viable way to problem solve problems in Japan and again when he'd challenged Midorikawa after the boy thoroughly beat him in a solo rank battle. Neither time prior had the hints of irritation actually carved through to his features which leaned more towards glare than duck face. Yuma wasn't just mad. He was serious.

"Yuma..."

"Or did the doctors remove your spine when they sewed up all those wounds?"

Ouch. Now this was the sort of heat he expected from his friend initially at the loss of Replica, not the loss of his own reputation. At this point, the shorter boy seemed to be waiting for an excuse to fight. Osamu had no doubt at this point that violence was one of Yuma's few coping mechanisms and while generally impressive, those skills would only harm themselves on this battlefield. Jin had alluded to this form of fighting at the meetings with the higher ups. Even took the time to explain to him the workings of the various factions involved. He could do this.

"Sorry. You're right." The violent hum below his field of view shifted. Osamu kept his gaze locked on the sea of strangers. He needed a few seconds to steel himself, warmed by the boy's steady smile beside him.

"How do you want to play this Osamu? Want to go out there and kick their butts together?" Osamu appreciated Yuma's attempts at censorship, but still silently bemoaned the amount of explaining he would likely have to undergo with his mother. As important as Yuma had become to him, there was a reason his mom had yet to hear about him.

"No thanks. This is my battle. I'll handle this myself." Kuga practically glowed. He drew courage from the lack of protest or foreshadowed proclamations of death. Osamu stepped onto the field. Lights near blinded him, shouts vibrated his bones and bounced between his wounds. Every step was painful. Before he had even reached the podium the idea of pulling out his own teeth seemed easier. Yet he kept walking. Kept addressing questions. Kept staring down the enemy before him. He could never run away from a fight. Not even once. No matter what form it took.

By the time Kido took the reins and he hobbled back to the safety of his family and friends, Osamu was sure that jelly was more stable than his footing. He leaned heavily against his crutch with a sigh. The buzzing within his veins took the edge off for now, but he was anticipating a long hard nap in the near future. And definitely more training in a trion body once approved. After all this, he was rather disinclined to bring his real body to a trion fight anytime soon. So he'd have to get real good at not having his trion form compromised.

"That was a great speech."

"Speech?"

"That was awesome Osamu."

"Thanks..."

"I thought you did well too!"

"Thank you, Chika."

"Osamu."

"Mom..."

"When you first brought me your enlistment forms all those months ago, I was rather upset. I didn't think you had what it took, and I was afraid you were going to get yourself hurt. But these past few days, with all the agents who've come to visit you, none have ever said you should resign or that you didn't belong. Even with you in a coma, everyone simply waited patiently for your return. I won't tell you what to do son. And I will never stop worrying. But it's your life and your decision to make. I can clearly see now that you have changed for the better. Still, if you ever want so much as a break I'll bring you back home so fast you won't know what hit you."

"Thanks Mom, that really does mean a lot."

"Let's get you four back to the hospital."

"Thank you..."

~
The two boys walked down the hallway elbow to elbow. Yuma had been a bit quieter than usual later, not that he had room to talk, even still he worried about the time he had to spend alone. How was Yuma adjusting in the absence of his stalwart companion? Was he lonely? Would he ask for help if the world became too much? Replica had taken that role previously when he made his request. Who was Yuma staying with and being cared for in Replica's absence? Was there such a person? He did have that apartment-

"Osamu." Yuma called out. Steady as always. He turned to meet his smaller friend beat for beat, smile strained but light. 'We'll talk later was on the tip of his tongue.' Replica was gone. There would be no more late night conversations. Unless-

"Do you have a phone? If we exchange numbers..." The shorter boy's slightly raised brow spoke volumes. Of course. Why bother with any other communication device when he'd had Replica?

"We can discuss that later. I'll see you at school tomorrow morning Yuma."

"Osamu, you were only just released from the hospital. I thought you would want to stay home for a few days."

"I understand however I was hoping you could drop me off early tomorrow, so Yuma can help me. I have a lot of assignments to catch up on, I'm sure, and if I'm early I won't have to fight any crowds."

"I would much prefer you stay home the next few days, not push yourself. You're supposed to be resting."

"I'll rest at school; it'll be nice to get out of bed for a change." Osamu stole a glance from his mother's bear trap blue glare to the fractal of light that finally cracked Yuma's crimson gaze.

"School is a place of study and academic rigor, not rest. Osamu, I won't let you push yourself before you're ready."

"I am ready!"

"You've been unsteady on your feet since you dragged yourself out of bed."

"The doctors agreed that I was ready."

"Contingent upon your continual rest. Healing is not linear Osamu. Keep pushing yourself and you will end up bedridden all over again. Just take the extra time now to ensure you'll have strength stored up for later." Everything she said made sense logically. He had one solid reason for his actions. Yet he dare not highlight a friend's weakness. Not now, not ever. That was neither his place nor his goal. Yet the idea of not hearing Yuma's monotone drawl poke fun at a Japanese custom before bed. Or have mini Replica's reassurances or theories whispered in his ear was upsetting. He wasn't even home yet, living that reality, and already he felt the loss sinking in to his bones. He didn't blame Yuma for staying away in the slightest, having lived like this for a week. Alone. Again.

In the weight of another argument, Chika had taken to wander down the sidewalk a ways, an illusion of privacy provided despite the fact she was Rinji's little sister and no doubt had an ear on them the whole time. Yuma didn't even bother to pretend. His gaze pin-balled between the Mikumos in what seemed silent judgement if Osamu believed for a second he was capable of such. Yuma didn't judge people in those terms from what he'd seen.

His mother bit out a sigh at the forlorn state he'd fallen into. Lost in the tangles of his mind, desperately sifting through words and solutions looking for the one that would get a desirable out come without adverse effects. He was still too worn down for all this. He felt as though he'd fired off the last of his energy during that speech.

"If you're sure. However if I am to drop you off early I will be picking you up early as well. I've still got approved time off work the next few days, so if you need me to come get you at any point I'll be there."

"Thanks very much, Mom. I'll see at the courtyard at seven tomorrow?"

"Sounds like a plan partner!" Yuma smiled wide with eyes squeezed shut. Osamu got whiplash to their talk on the roof earlier.

'That's my partner for you. He completed his mission even after being chopped in half.' He was hit by a second wave in Replica's sympathetically mechanical drone.

'Osamu. This is goodbye. Take care of Yuma for me.'

'Yuma...'

"See you tomorrow, partner!" At his response Yuma's face morphed slightly, a softening around edges that didn't reduce the size of his smile so much as bring life to what remained.

"I'll see you at lunch Yuma."

"See you then Chika."

"It was nice to meet you Kuga. Do you need a ride home as well or are your parents picking you up?" His breath caught in his throat. Osamu scrambled desperately for a way to avoid a total shut down. His friend was finally able to smile again, and now-

"No need to worry about me. Thanks for the offer though." His mother nodded then proceeded back towards the sea of cars beside the hospital. Of course the boy would just brush this off too. He really wasn't sure what he had come to expect at this point. He smiled apologetically and waved to Yuma's shrinking duck face once more before following the other two. Chika, exhausted after staying at the hospital for so long, fell asleep against her seat belt almost immediately. His mother only waited until they were out of the parking lot to start sharing her mind.

"Are you sure you want to go to school so early Osamu? I don't much trust this 'Kuga' to take care of you when he couldn't be bothered to visit you in the hospital before now. Chika would be more than happy to help if only you give her a chance to rest herself. You could use the extra down time as well. There's no need to push yourself."

"I appreciate your concern Mom, and Chika's. I understand, but I trust Yuma as well. He had his own reasons for not coming but we're here for each other now."

"If you say so Osamu. After hearing your speech earlier, and seeing how infatuated with you he was, I trust your judgement. At least I think he has your best interests at heart as well."

"Yeah, me too." He cast his gaze to the sleeping girl beside him. As thankful as he was for her constant support, and eternally gratefully to see her in human form once more, he couldn't help but have his mind drift. For a moment he flickered to Rinji. Then the familiar call of 'four eyes' stirred up his heart.

"Hey Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You said one of my mentors that came by from Tamakoma was overly apologizing. Would you remind me which one?"

"Oh, we never did finish that conversation did we. He was tall, a handsome fellow with piercing blue eyes-" 'Jin. I knew it.' "-peculiar blue sunglasses around his neck and a blue jacket too. He was quite charismatic if a bit somber."

"Right. I know who you're talking about, thank you."

"Oh? Is he another tutor to you?"

"Huh? Well he is my mentor, yeah."

"I see. Make sure he keeps an eye out for you always. Though from what I saw I'm not too worried. You have a great taste in friends. Now if only you'd stand up for yourself a bit more..."

"Mom! Stop saying embarrassing stuff please, Chika could wake up at any moment."

"Whatever you say darling, though I don't see anything embarrassing about a little honesty."

"I understand why you feel that way, but please just wait until we drop Chika off."

Feeling a bit lighter at last, Osamu didn't feel the burning of his cheeks cool down. Sleep pulled him under instead. Deep enough he failed to recall stopping, let alone dropping Chika off. Deep enough that for a minute he forgot about Replica too. Deep enough that he dreamed of a taller figure wrapping him in safety and pulling him toward a brighter future.

Chapter Text

Nearly two weeks had passed, twelve days, since the second invasion and Jin still felt as though he was walking underwater. He had taken to tucking himself away once more. A retreat as the walls thickened and oozed with reminders of the emptiness in the weight of Border's return from Aristera. Empty save the wails of orphaned refugees and veterans, survivors and mourners. A return of weighted silence. A roiling of fog where one wanted, had grown accustomed to, a sunrise. He knew the kids would return soon, as much was visible in almost every future he saw. He saw too much lately. Why was Shinoda's choice of 'reward' time off? To do what? Worry himself away now that all forms of distraction had been snatched from him? He supposed he could start his next amalgamations; start sparking dialogue with Hyuse. There weren't many futures where his overt involvement ended well though. Honestly the more hands off the better with that one it seemed. He knew where his attention was needed. The form he wanted to see least of all. A walking reminder of his failures. This wasn't fair, Jin knew, and yet he continued to struggle as regret rolled within him.

Four-eyes was still prohibited from training until next week. With restrictions on his actions due to doctor recommendations he wouldn't be able to resume his full time duties for a few more days at least. Based on Jin's predictions, he would need every moment of rest he could get; that boy was about to work himself into the ground. For now, he was but a figment; a silhouette in the many channels that played before his eyes alone.

Little Miss Amatori had been quick to resume her training post Four-eyes' release. She showed up after school just as before for personal lessons with Reiji, then over to HQ for group training sessions on the days they were held. She worked diligently and amicably but never lingered long in the absence of her teammates. A periphery waved to on occasion.

Shiori had taken a few days off to recover from her back to back stint of sleepless nights. Once rested, she resumed loitering around the base and offering, support, comfort and a froggy grin wherever she could. Becoming an operator for a team would do her some good. She was A rank in her own right and was unjustly, if self inflicted, benched when she made the moral transfer from HQ to Tamakoma. Unlike Torimaru, who made a similar jump at a similar time for a similar reason, he was able to hop onto Tamakoma-1 and fit into the void Jin left post S rank transfer. Tamakoma-1 already had an operator in Yuri however, so there wasn't much for sweet Shiroi to see to unless another team was formed. When pressed for his two cents on the topic, he simply smirked and asked the others for patience. 'What a payoff it'll be' he shared and nothing else.

Tamakoma-1 had handled everything remarkably well all things considered. All had received recognition, he was quite proud Four-eyes was similarly recognized, in the form of rewards and compensation from HQ. None seemed overly surprised by the kids' slowness to return. Everyone seemed to be settling back into place. Well. Mostly.

Konami was her usual boisterous self. Between wrestling Yotaro and squawking at Torimaru she seemed fine. He knew better than most about assumptions however and made sure to corner her and confront her inner feelings on this. The conversation was stilted and almost scraped something raw. But the wounds were old and had long since scarred over. She had protected her new juniors. At present that was enough.

Reiji was told about his talk with Konami, leaving him and Rindo to smooth out an lingering ruffles. He busied himself with Miss Amatori but otherwise operated business as usual. These days, it took quite the upheaval to spark a reaction from him. Part of him was thankful fo rhis lack of concern in the wake of it all; another part was afraid he just couldn't see the potential consequences. No one could. Maybe his conversation with Kirie should've had a different focus...

Kyosuke seemed to be of a similar piece to Konami. He harbored no ill will towards Jin himself; bold enough in his trust to declare that a request Jin made was known to be for the benefit of Border. Entirely too trusting. He resumed his part-time work soon as he could and stock-piled training regiments for Four-eyes' return. The boy had difficulty finishing what was put on his plate in a day, but with his ever-changing short term battle goals and altering strategies, he was constantly in need of new or re-written routines to practice. And Torimaru thought he had it rough now. He could almost smirk at the notion.

Yotaro and Rindo were largely focused on ensuring the safety of and tending to the neighbor he'd taken in. Rindo was deep in Border politics and scheming negotiation tactics. He hoped the man didn't come to him for advice again; rare but not unheard of. Yotaro, as a neighborly prince himself, seemed to take his role as liaison between neighbors and Japanese culture quite seriously. The chopstick lessons didn't seem near as effective as either party hoped, which was hilarious, but Yotaro could always use more friends and as a prisoner their new guest was of a similar piece. Hyuse seemed resigned to his circumstances but largely obtuse and uncooperative from a military standpoint. He was warming to Yotaro however, and that was already doing wonders to alter possible future pathways; largely for the better.

Yuma... He had been trying not to dwell on him too much. Guilty as he was for the danger he placed upon Osamu and Chika, he felt doubly so about the neighbor boy. Too close to himself. No parents. Guilt-ridden. Alone in an abyss demanded by the presence of a black trigger. The weight of the dead. Mogami was no longer with him physically. He told everyone he was alright with sacrificing Fujin, but would Replica have been lost had he been properly armed on the field? Yet only Miwa had the positioning required to take action. There was no point second guessing his pathing; some factors were beyond his control and he would likely make the same choices again if given the chance. He hadn't been forced to see Yuma adrift in those futures; eyes without light. He had assumed, but faced with the reality of the boy's grief he was left breathless. Pity was another problem that neither party played well with, so he was thankful for the distance.

By the time Saturday rolled around, he felt drained. Today was the day Rindo called the kids back in to refocus on their goal to go on the away mission. To formerly forge Tamakoma-2. What a team it will be. Most likely. The future was always changing after all.

~

At Headquarters Jin wandered into the upper viewing platform for the rank wars, reserved for A ranks and above. Unlikely as the setting seemed, this had been the only opportunity he deemed appropriate for this conversation in the near future; Karasawa was a slippery man after all. Shrewd and resilient. A diplomatic tactician disguised as an economist. He made sure to wait until after the battle was over, the shock of the diminishing crowds and the trickle of lower rank agents beginning their journey from the stadium were best avoided.

"Karasawa, I didn't know you watched the rank wars."

"Nice work on Tamakoma-2's debut victory. I noticed agent Mikumo was absent from the field?"

"He's still recovering after a certain press conference set him back a bit." He sighed and squinted to block out the other. When it came to serious talks, he preferred to not see the speaker so he could focus on their words in the present. Eye contact was important however; especially to get a point across.

"Ha ha; sorry about that."

"Yotaro and Konami were pretty mad. Though mostly at Netsuki and the reporters themselves."

"I see..." The man seemed lost by the details Jin chose to push. He would have smiled, the normal arrogance of being certain, of being right, that he forced to thrum through his veins was a sludge that pulled him down.

"Why did you take Four-eyes to the press conference?"

"It just seemed like a waste to me. All they really wanted was someone to blame. Sitting back and letting him become that person, simply because of others' actions, that doesn't sit well with me."

"Sounds like you place value in Four-eyes."

"I guess. After the invasion, 26 agents quit Border. After the press conference however, we received over five times as many applications. Our number of sponsors has increased as well."

"You think that's because of Four-eyes?"

"I wouldn't go that far. To be honest, most people just seemed excited about the idea of the expeditions to the Neighbors' world. The media is still talking about it. But he was the one to spark this discussion. Such actions come with risks but people who take those actions regardless are valuable. I happen to be someone who values that kind of person is all. You shouldn't look so down all the time. Better of you to be happy and support your juniors. Agent Mikumo has a tough road ahead of him." Karasawa patted his shoulder on the way out; cigarette put out and abandoned in a nearby ashtray.

Jin held his tongue. The man's reasoning had been sound. Steady. Mikumo's decisions and actions continued to catch him off guard even with his side effect. Something else was brushed upon though.

"I'm just not as quick to move on as you are."

"Well, I used to play rugby."

"Okay; that's not relevant."

At least he had an explanation now. Rugby aside. His stomach still churned. A reminder to get it together. Juniors would continue to flock to him. Situations would continue to arise that required his steady orchestrations. He needed to remain focused. Besides. Ever since he made the decision to give up Fujin, he had drifted from his juniors physically. He was a fleeting presence in the lives of every agent. He could show up for them and smile on certain days and certain moments as he did for everyone else. They were no different; this would be normal. Until the right way to word the apologies buried within him emerged.

For Four-eyes he might see a few moments through which they could talk but he had always been receptive, open and respectful, if a bit awe-struck. The bespectacled boy's friend on the other hand, while always appearing amicable, was incredibly guarded and stubbornly distrustful. How Four-eyes managed to capture that kid's trust was a true wonder. Yet another thing he'd be thrilled to ask him if only the fear of regret drowning-

"Have you been avoiding me? Who else am I supposed to trust with my horoscope?" He was ripped from his ruminations by a familiar scruffy smirk.

"Hey Tachikawa."

"Get in a booth mopey. I feel like smacking you around before playing nice."

"Playing? What if I'm not in the mood?"

"That was a declaration, not a negotiation."

"No future is set in stone."

"Maybe not. But I've had to listen to enough rants about probabilities from you to know sometimes the best way is the simplest. Path of least resistance and all that. Hurry up. Gotta get that good outcome of stealing all your points."

"Good and bad don't mean anything, it's all relative. The choices I make are with the best interests of Border in mind. That's the future I have to work towards."

"No, that's the future that we work towards. Getting a bit existential Yuichi. You think you're the only competent Border agent? Which one of us got the special award and which one got the standard issue again? Oh? What was that? That's right; he who can see only the present is more widely recognized as the better agent."

"No one said better. Those awards are slapped on for show and potential for damage. I wouldn't brag about being in the same category as Amo and Miwa."

"And your little neighbor?"

"He's Osamu's stray, really."

"Right, because your prodigy was the one who gave up the black trigger of his mentor to keep a pet."

"Would you stop rubbing it in? And here I thought you enjoyed sparring with me again."

"See, that foresight of yours doesn't teach you a damn thing. Kicking your butt in the ring is all well and good, but what I missed most was our time in the booths."

"Of course, only ever two things on your mind, eh Kei?"

"Yeah, improving my swordplay and getting one overly worried sight seer to snap into shape."

"This isn't a path I chose for myself, just one I have to live with. And if I'm forced to see everyone's futures play out all the time, why not wish for them to be better?"

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Your teammates need to take a vacation so we can use your squad room again."

"Join a team to get your own nap chamber; Yuu almost busted us last time and I'm not risking that conversation again. I think you've been looking at the future too long."

"Someone has to-"

"Not right now. Any big invasions you're keeping under wraps? Any surprise attacks or catastrophes? No? Great. Quite staring at other people and just enjoy the present."

"Sorry Kei, my mind didn't come with an off switch."

"I doubt it came with volume control either."

"Didn't have to, I can't hear people's futures only see-"

"Shut up and kiss me Yuichi."

Fed up with the other's pushiness, Jin latched onto his arm and dragged him down the halls. The solo rank booths tended to be busy after a match; everyone inspired and trying to get some training in. The rooms on the east side were tucked away enough that most of the go-getters didn't find it and the seniors didn't bother. A perfect spot. He locked the door behind them anyway. Their lips met before he could flick the light. Kei's fingers raking through his hair was not, could not have been, in a future he could see. The both of them were blind save for the heat of each other and the door he was slammed against. For a second he was weightless. He was sixteen and just lost a forty round dual to someone ineligible of competing for Fujin. Kei could get him just as riled up as back then with little more than a breath, why bother banging the door around?

"I told you I'm not in the mood. Turn the light on or people will be suspicious. You had to go and make a ruckus."

"That's what you said about training alone and let all two of 'em think whatever they want." Kei caved anyways, flicked the lights on and crossed his arms with a side eye towards him once more. He wordless threw himself into the rolling chair by the desk. His friend seated himself on the bed with a sigh. Every booth had the same layout. The both of them had spent hundreds of hours within walls of this configuration. They honestly didn't need the lights on, yet better safe than sorry. He swallowed again at the thought of Kei's fingers, the shock from their reassuring weight.

"This is the part where we either make-out for real or you tell me what's wrong."

"Do I have to tell you what these rooms are designed for?"

"Simulations. Whatever we want. I want you to stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting-"

"The Invasion went fine Yuichi. Sure we lost a few rookies and a couple civilians didn't make it. But we suffered no real loses and we even got some gains from it. A black trigger user's intel for a couple puncture wounds on a B-rank seems fine. Besides. You wouldn't have picked this pathway if it wasn't what you thought best."

"I can't control every little scenario and differentiating factors and influences for timelines are difficult to judge on a good day. You try doing it in the midst of combat. And we did suffer a loss. A big one."

"I'm sure Four-eyes will be fine-"

"Yeah, that's why he wasn't in the rank war match today."

"The one you didn't watch?"

"..."

"I get the feeling you know I was loitering around Karasawa before leaving to find you and beat the rush of C-ranks flooding the halls. If Four-eyes was going to suffer any long term adverse effects you would've warned someone by now. Avoidance is a nasty habit Yuichi. Kiss or spill the tea."

"As if you're one to talk about avoidance."

"I'm in your face confronting you. In the battle, I was basically hunting for black trigger users. Why not put me in front of one? Worried you wouldn't have an excuse to be mopey then?"

"I'm not moping-"

"I know what an existentially woeful Yuichi looks like; you fit the bill a bit too close."

"What are you expecting me to say? Ever since the Invasion I've been checking on people and apologizing where I could. And everyone eats it up; even if so they don't have to blame themselves for just a moment. Yet to the two who deserve to hear as much the most, I haven't said 'sorry' once."

"If them hearing you say two words is that important to you, you'll make it happen. Sounds as though they don't think you owe them anything either if they haven't sought you out. Why are you really worrying about this?"

"I put them in danger-"

"No, they were going to be in danger anyway. What you did was keep them in danger rather than the belly of death. Spit it out Yuichi. What's really eating away at you?" Kei had been quick to cut him off until now. They both knew this was solely to provoke Jin. The pair could play coy with each other for hours. While fun and jest-ful for training or spicing things up at HQ, when it came to open-hearted conversations their own tendencies got in the way. Once Jin got going however, he would let the floodgates pour out. Tachikawa didn't dare to even move for fear of the other clamming up. He could tell by the glances and eye bags, the fleet-y nature returning and his withdrawal despite being freed from S rank obligations again. He knew the other agent had a tendency to overwork himself but this was something else. He wanted whatever was eating his partner away rooted out now.

"I feel terrible Four-eyes got as hurt as he did, that any of the C ranks and civilians were taken, the casualties... But the biggest loss... Well it involves Yuma; I didn't see many clear pathways for the furture we ended up taking. I didn't know this was going to- But at the same time I'm bitter and frustrated, because as much as I want him to be happy, I don't want to be burdened with babysitting. I know that's selfish, and inexcusable, I know Yuma can take care of himself, but he needs a break and a proper support network and I just don't know if I can provide those things. I already gave up Fujin, like you said. I don't know how much more I can honestly give right now and if it's not from a place of honesty everyone's future could be jeopardized. There's just a lot to think about and a lot to feel through and I don't expect anyone else to have to deal with such a mess."
"I want to help you through this. Whether you reach out to me or not I will be here. Do you regret giving up the wind-blade?"

"...No. This was always more important and having Fujin at HQ opened a surprising amount of potential pathways. Mostly for the better." Jin glanced from Kei's steady gaze to his own blurred reflection within the sleeping monitor to his left.
"You were almost right earlier. It wasn't you I was avoiding but the new kids. I needed to ask Karasawa about something but didn't want to watch the match. They can't control how I think; it isn't fair or their fault just something I need to work through, but as of now they're reminders for me. Of my failures. Of the fragility of life. Yuma especially. He dances with death constantly and also... He's the son of my mentor's best friend. My mentor's rival. He came here looking for Mogami; how can I not feel obligated to stick my neck out for him? But I hate acting out of obligation and he clearly doesn't even want the help. He's stubborn. He's an orphan. He lost his mentor, his guardian. He's a black trigger user. He smiles and- And we're just too alike. It feels like looking at myself and I hate it. I thought I was over all this."

"Grief isn't something you move on from; it's something you live with. As far as the neighbor is concerned, from one monster to another, you don't have to see him. You could hate him, avoid him for the rest of days. In his name, you traded one life for another. You don't owe him a damn thing."

"That's not a fair way to think about this. He never had a say." 'In either situation...'

"We're talking about Black Triggers here; nothing is fair. I know how much- I know what he meant to you. You've done more for this random kid, you just met, than anyone could ever ask of you. Yuichi. You've done enough. If it hurts you to keep up the good mentor facade then don't be his mentor. I thought you passed the brats off to Tamakoma-1 anyways. And you yourself admitted he's more Osamu's stray than anything."

"You're right about me pawning them off. Though I get the feeling the less Yuma and I fight the better, even if only for training. I could never hate him. He was the son of Mogami's best friend. And he's a genuinely nice person. He never complains about others or his situation. He never once blamed me. I didn't apologize. He didn't seem like he wanted an apology."

"But you want to apologize anyway?" At Kei's question he could only shrug. So much was left unsaid to hang in the air yet he felt drained. No tears were shed, no real reassurances given, yet speaking his woes aloud to another had lightened his load somewhat. Somehow his eyelids felt heavier than ever.

"Yeah. I think I need to; or I want to. I think he deserves to hear the words, bit I'm not sure what the right ones are yet."

"Well, if it hurts you to spend time with him, and you can't fulfill your goal anyway, you can always keep him at a distance. I hate seeing you like this Yuichi. You're allowed to feel however you want as long as you share those feelings with someone. I'm always here to fight or listen. Just reach out and I'll answer, okay? Do whatever you need to feel alright within yourself. Now hurry up and get over here. I won't try anything, but you'll hurt your neck sleeping like that on the chair. Lay down and I'll find us some blankets."

"Too warm for blankets dummy." Jin grumbled as he dragged his feet in the direction of the bed. He fell face first before twisting around. He blinked a few times. One minute he stared at the ceiling, the next his shoes were off, sunglasses carefully set aside, and his head was pillowed by Kei's thigh. The man himself was similarly curled up on the bed. He snickered at whatever video was playing on his phone while absent-mindedly stroking Jin's hair. With a slight snicker of his own he succumbed to the darkness of rest bathed in the warmth of another. Familiar. Grounding. Home.

~

He did end up steering clear of Tamakoma-2 for a few more days. He allowed himself to sleep when needed, restock on rice crackers, and even check in on the prisoner a few times. Hyuse. Another interesting case. He'd have to worry about that one later. They had time. Thankfully. He made time.

With this time he recuperated. Konami's and Kyosuke's apprentices re-emerged with the start of the B-rank wars. Osamu in particular had taken to over-working himself within the walls. All as expected. Those visions reminded him so much of Kido and old Border that he deemed to avoid all his mentees for the rest of the week. Rindo, Shiori, or Reiji would come to him if anything serious popped up. It seemed Chika and Osamu would be experiencing some rapid growth over the coming months which was to be expected. Yuma meanwhile was hazy as ever. Maybe his imagination was getting to him, but Yuma seemed to be tentatively avoiding him as well. Still, given his side effect, hiding from him was next to impossible.

In most futures, just as his teammates continued to develop their skill and grow as people, Yuma re-learned how to smile. Instances of clear futures where the boy's eyes held reflections and his smile seemed lighter. He hoped the boy was having fun and re-learning to trust. Then there were all the other futures. The ones where the boy instead fell apart, to dust, to his demons, to time. So many things were capable of claiming Yuma's life in a second. In almost all those futures, he didn't mind at all; red eye still tracking light, smile impossibly liberated. The image had haunted him til two in the morning the night before. Despite avoiding the neighbor in person he was still subject to parallel futures and the pair had plenty of mutual acquaintances. He saw Yuma every day even though he and the boy had not spoken in a week. Eventually he caved and snuck into Tachikawa's place where he was quickly distracted until sleep overcame him. After some rest and a clear head, he felt confident this was the best future for all parties involved. If he spent a few nights a week at Tachikawa's and started spearheading the Hyuse issue he could continue to sneak around Yuma pretty easily. That way, the boy could start to grow a support network within the branch on his own. This would work. It has to work. Just a few more pieces to set up. Just until he could collect himself proper. He just needed to steer clear of Yuma as best he could until an apology was properly formed.

He broke the silent stalemate with Yuma at the end of his training session with Konami. After visiting Hyuse with Yotaro he poked his head into the training room.

"Mind if I have a word with your mentee Konami?"

"Sure, but you'll be responsible for getting him home."

"That is not something I need help with, thank you though."

"Whatever. See you after defense duty tomorrow Yuma."

"Of course. Thank you for the training Miss."

Konami, quick to catch the tension, if only subconsciously, grabbed her sweater and carried herself upstairs with haste.

"Yuma." He looked up. The two really hadn't talked at all since they returned from searching for Replica. So much to say. He wasn't sure he would ever have the courage to voice any of it, though Yuma deserved, likely needed, to hear it. For all his claims of being elite, he wasn't even twenty yet. He had lost everything too. The weight of living, the pain of seeing a loved one's smile every time a weapon meant to wound is wielded, the malicious shadow that perpetually gnawed at a the hole another person once filled. If he had Fujin during the Invasion... With his own emptiness eating at him, this was the best he could offer the last scrap of his mentor.

"You can stay here from now on if you want Yuma. We have the extra space and would be more than pleased to house you on base. I've lived here since I was twelve years old. Rindo has been here for over a decade, and this is basically the only home Yotaro has ever had. You'll fit right in; promise. No bother at all."

Surprising as it had been at the time, hearing that many of Yuma's choices were likely driven by his desire not to be a burden made a lot of sense looking back. He never went out of his way to openly help, to go above and beyond, nor did he fail or falter. Yuma strove to walk a middle path, one of little resistance, present but not sticking out. He rose to the challenge when asked and resisted when others tried to beat him down. Beyond this, the kid wanted to just be another sheep in the herd. Except the flock had black wool and this boy had snow white hair. Norms reversed. Fate changed. Every time he glimpsed Yuma lately he saw a future of him dying. Even now. The boy's expression was placid, neutral, untraceable to the outside world by design more likely than not. Whether on his father's part physically for forming the boy's body in such a way or figuratively for conditioning him into being relatively un-expressive. He saw the boy stew silently in his headspace while possible pathways played out with greater likelihood as seconds stretched on. Yuma being buffeted around by trucks as he fell onto the highway. Yuma floating back up in a body of water. Yuma falling off what looked to be a school roof. Real pathways where he took measured steps. What words would weigh on the boy's heart enough to divert them? Ever since Osamu invited the boy to join his team, the number of futures where Yuma flung himself from things greatly reduced. The odds were never zero however. There had always been a haze around the boy. He struggled to see more than six months at a time for him where most peoples' lives stretched into a few years worth of possible futures easily. As long as he could reduce the odds of the boy's present self cutting things short that should be enough for now.

"...Okay."

Little fanfare was made of Yuma's move onto base. Jin walked him to the same guestroom he'd stayed the night he enlisted in Border's Tamakoma branch.

He knew Yuma would wait until late in the night to sneak to the roof; dangle his small feet from a ledge stretched stories into the sky. Jin could join him. Offer a drink. Ask for another story. Share a story of his own. What would Yuma want other than a real explanation as to why his guardian was no longer here? Instead he waited to here the subtle creak of the door. Yuma had yet to learn where all the creaks and squeaks of the old building were. Jin had had a feeling picking up those pockets of alarm would come quick and quiet to the self-proclaimed ex-soldier.

He stewed in the screaming silence of night a few minutes after the roof door creaked closed before he rose himself. Shoes slipped on. Phone in pocket. Sunglasses around neck. He slipped down the stairs and pulled the door just slow enough to avoid the rust alarm. Osamu was the one who got Yuma to stay, to pull Yuma back. Four-eyes could do this. He was the one to win the boy's trust, he could care for what remained. He would have to trust Four-eyes here.He was barely staying focused himself. The 'what ifs' wouldn't allow his mind to rest. Every time he so much as glanced at a person his consciousness was bombarded by vibrant channels; windows that spelled a story often irrelevant to his own. Yet there was one that kept budding back. A person more circuit than channel. A place to close his eyes and feel rather than see. A night a Tachikawa's again would sooth him. He'd return to normal soon. He'd get around to talking to Yuma soon. He'd apologize to Four-eyes soon. He'd feel alright again soon. For now, he felt entitled to indulge in the messy more than friends rivalry that had subsumed him and Tachikawa. A romance re-kindled by the surrender of his trigger. One of the few silver linings. He would be in his boyfriend's arms soon. He would feel like himself again soon. Everyone else needed the strength to find their own paths. They would be alright soon too.

~

Chapter Text

~~~
(Yuma)

"You can stay here from now on if you want Yuma." He glanced up towards Jin. Red on blue. A fish lost at sea. The first time they'd properly spoken in-

"We have the extra space and would be more than pleased to house you on base. I've lived here since I was twelve years old. Rindo has been here for over a decade, and this is basically the only home Yotaro has ever had. You'll fit right in; promise. No bother at all."

"...Okay." No fanfare was made of his decision as the guest room was already set up. He brought his backpack of stuff from the room Replica got him; though he fully intended to keep the space under his name, at least until those funds ran out. Just in case things went wrong with Border. You never know when someone could turn their back on you. While that was one of his Dad's rules he tried to hold close, Yuma was also ready to leave if only to avoid the pain of being left yet again. He got the feeling it was only a matter of time. He knew, logically, that death came for all. Yet he couldn't help but notice the prominence of death's presence around him as opposed to his peers. Was he the sort of person people left? Incredibly unlucky? Did he merely attract death?

Yuma spent that night on the roof. The stars were his new night wards, he supposed. No one came for him that night either. Neither to talk or take his life. Both were a fight either way. Dad said to always be prepared. Replica's favorite pass time was to badger him for not maintaining a vigilant guard.

'Just because you're immune to most forms of damage at the moment does not make invincible. Besides, you don't want to form any bad habits that could be fatal once you return to your real body.' Replica knew him well enough to not bring the truth up often. Sometimes, his partner shared how he felt afraid though. He never pitied Yuma, but sometimes... Sometimes he worried. He had been Yuma's chaperone. Was. The boy curled into himself a little tighter.

He skipped breakfast the next morning, running in close to late at school so the only and first person he got to talk to was Osamu. Now he could pretend this was a new day. The start of a great one. So long as he ignored the bandages and bruises which lingered on the other boy and the quietness of his own collar.

~

In the days leading up to the match Osamu spent every waking moment he could reviewing previous rank war logs. Yuma watched in wide-eyed wonder as his body visibly morphed with the force of his efforts. Purple placed itself under his eyes like a mother's kiss. Occasionally he would slouch or slump only to jolt himself awake. Other times he held himself up but wavered back and forth every few steps. The lenses of his glasses got dirtier. Chika had taken to prompting him to eat regardless of whether or not she was with him that meal. While admittedly not the most ideal conditions to be operating under, but Osamu wore the weighted responsibility beautifully. His father had always been father insistent a strategist's battle was largely fought before the war. He knew his genius captain only needed a matter of time to fall into the role. In the wake of the want the stretched up within him, to claw his chest open from the inside, all he could hope to do was watch. A series of beat by beat blows to a battered boy. Yuma dared not look away. Could not. Would not. He had not felt such swoops and valleys forge forth in the recesses and cavities of his shell of a body prior to living without him. The only thing more potent than Yuma's desire to protect, learn from, and bring happiness to, his captain, was his desire to enable said person's goals. Right now, that meant points in pretend battles.

While Osamu whittled himself away with worry over strategies and simulations, Yuma decided to take productive measures towards ensuring victory. He had absolute faith that the tactics Osamu ultimately chose would counter the enemies movements and strategies well, but that didn't leave him with the most time to prepare the plans laid. Yet another reason he didn't want the burden of captain himself; the weight of timing and managing who held what information when was exhausting. Watching his father do as much across their travels had been more than enough. Add his own wartime experiences-

"All that and you won't even buy me a drink? You really are ruthless, Yuma." The vending machine clattered as a drink rattled to the bottom. Midorikawa scooped it up quick and took a few massive gulps. 'Is this a Japanese custom? Buying drinks for someone?' He wondered what Replica's opinion on the subject might be. His companion had always been was far better versed in conversations: well-spoken, creative, supportive- He swallowed, mouth dry, and smashed his eyes shut with a practiced smile in tow.

"Thank you very much for taking the time to show me that Midorikawa. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah yeah; just give me a proper fight next time would ya? You're next rank battle is tomorrow right? You're not thinking of using it in combat are you? Surprise will only get you so far you know." Eyes closed he offered a smile. Serene in the knowledge that the Grasshopper trigger was a cute bounce pad compared to the high speed re-positioning Bound seal he was used to working with. A Rad to an Illgar. Even Rads had their uses however and he was almost as intrigued by this trigger's potential for misdirection as Scorpion's.

"If it isn't the shrimp. Missed ya at the award ceremony." Yoneya rounded the corner with a wave.

"His captain was in the hospital, I doubt he wanted to deal with a formal event." A blonde haired man in long black coat strode beside the spear-user.

"You're Kuga right? I heard about you; around the time you joined." 'He knows I'm a neighbor. Is this a threat?'

"Word on the vine is Jin has high expectations of you and the rest of your squad. Name's Kohei Izumi. A pleasure."

"Nice to meet you Izumi." He bowed politely but kept the new arrivals in sight, Midorukawa in his periphery.

"Congratulations, by the way." Yoneya turned to Yuma with a smirk of his own.

"Hm? For what?"

"What do you mean for what? You received a special service award!"

"And a fat stack of cash; try not to spend it all in one place." The blonde smirked knowingly whilst Midorikawa squirmed and beamed his puppy smile.

"I heard about that too! Congrats!"

"Oh. That." Shiori mentioned that at some point in Tamakoma's basement hadn't she? The memory was a hazy blur he'd rather not think back on. Rindo mentioned it too when he summoned Tamakoma-2 back to base.

'People who stay in one place grow attached to the strangest things. Service award. Anywhere else it's simply doing your job as a soldier.'

"What do you mean 'oh'? You even got a major uptick in points! Now that Yuma's B-rank he can start fighting with real triggers." Shun spun to the older boys and smirked mischievously.

'Points that were instantly transferred away. Not that I care; bail out is one of the most powerful triggers I've ever seen and if anyone needs it's protection it's Chika.'

"Kid's scary enough with a scorpion if you ask me. What else would you even add?" Yoneya raised an eyebrow. His companions were far quicker to respond.

"Shield for one thing."

"Bagworm maybe?"

"Ew, don't be one of those attackers Yuma."

"What's that supposed to mean? Surprise attacks are a viable tactic."

"It's only a surprise if you don't see it coming. Soon as someone drops from the radar, expect the unexpected." The blonde nodded before Midorikawa spun back to Yuma.

"Hey, hey, did you see all the battles from the Invasion?"

"Of course not; I can only be in one place at once."

"Huh? I know you're new Yuma, but have you not worked with the overlay feature?"

"Isn't Shiori your operator?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot she's over at Tamakoma now. She really knows her stuff; quite experienced too. You lucked out." Yoneya smiled.

Suspicious. He and luck were well-acquainted but on poor terms if history could speak. Shiori didn't avoid him per say. They were teammates after all. The two just never really spoke much; especially one on one. He threw out a duckface to abort the move to scratch where his real right arm would be if-

"No, she hasn't gotten around to showing me that."

"Well all Border trion bodies are equipped with a link function so an agent's perspective can be viewed remotely. Usually this feature is only used by your team's operator to better coordinate everyone. However, we can also share that footage amongst agents as a means of spreading intel faster." Izumi explained steadily.

"Being able to learn about enemies from the footage of those defeated by them was a huge help; operators will always get you out in a pinch!" Yoneya agreed.

"Hm." 'Shiori said something similar to Chika at our last strategy meeting...'

'If you're spotted then I'll guide you towards the best escape route; theirs usually more than one way to go. As an operator I'll find you a way out no matter the situation!' Such a role was unorthodox in the neighborhood and usually required controlling trion soldiers. An all-rounder on the other side knew how to fight alongside as well as against trion soldiers. The actual duty of operator here was still a bit lost to him. From what little he'd seen and heard they seemed to largely service as a communications connector, sharing information, providing updated intel on the enemy, managing teammate and enemy positions... Helpful, but not something skilled trion users couldn't live without. He must be missing something. Normally he would ask if only to ensure everyone was of a similar mind and intent was aired. This sort of thing was delicate however since it pertained to someone, at least tangentially relative to Japan, close to him. Not to mention Shiori was cousins of Yoneya and clearly someone respected by the others. She had helped provide solace in the wake of Replica's absence. Was there a way to ask what the point of an operator was without being offensive?

"Let's go watch some footage from the Invasion then! There were some really cool fights that happened!"

"Calm down Shun. Let's use your squad room though; since it's not busy."

"For now; my teammates will be home soon!"

"Oh? Did your team travel somewhere Midorikawa?"

"Kusakabe and Katagiri squads were assigned to recruit people from other districts. They've been gone for about a month or so but still have a few weeks left to go. Shun here is just impatient." The spear user snickered as he took up the rear, walking in slowed strides to keep pace with Yuma's shorter ones.

"May I ask why you didn't join your team?"

"That sounded super lame."

"Upper management didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut so he was benched."

"Hey, now! Those trips are just really boring! Anyway here we are. I don't really remember how to navigate the panels-"

"I've got it. Close the door would ya spear guy?"

"So demanding. Which fight do we wanna start with?"

"My votes on the creepy guy." Midorikawa piped up as he trotted towards room's the central desk.

"The one who got super murdered?" Izumi glanced around the room while he spoke.

"The very same. I wanna see bullet boy fighting the fish; I got a kick out of watching you hobble around." Yoneya didn't bat an eye, focused on the machine the youngest had started up. Yuma himself felt detached, dragged along. Uncertain how to move he trailed behind other three.

"We're skipping that part, but Miwa's stand against two black trigger users was incredible." Izumi waved.

Midorikawa smirked towards Yuma as the screens blinked to life. Green streaks centered around a glowing kogetsu blade wielded by Miwa confronted him. Near his shoulder a black dot hovered. It couldn't be... The image was gone just as fast; rolled through blurs of the crumbled city which compromised the restricted zone.

"Pause it, there, now play." Izumi instructed with Midorikawa quick to comply. Yoneya's eyes never left the screen as he stared at his own captain in action.

"Impressive as always. Lead bullet sucks to deal with." The youngest bemoaned.

"It's not the worst. As long as you're expecting the slug in your face you can dodge."

"Says the one who practices daily with a lead bullet abuser."

"That viper through the portal was clean." Izumi noted, arms crossed.

"Couldn't land him a kill, though. Even with the data he got." Midorikawa said.

"At least he never bailed out. The goal was to stall for time."

"Says you. Oh! Pull up Shinoda's fight." Yoneya snapped his fingers and turned expectantly back towards the screen.

"None of us were there dummy."

"Yeah, but it happened in the base, just pull up the security cameras." The spear user shrugged.

"Huh?! I can't do that!"

"Yeah, you can't. Step aside." Izumi snickered as he typed at the keyboard.

"Did Tachikawa or Kunichika show you that?"

"Don't worry about that spear-head, just enjoy the show."

"Whoa!"

"He ran along the walls? What a menace!"

"His speed and precision are incredible. Director Shinoda taught Tachikawa everything he knows." Izumi remarked.

"Which is why he's only useful in battle." Yoneya said snidely but mostly without smoke.

"He's not lacking in power either, look how he's pushing the horn guy back!"

"What do you think of his moves Yuma?"

Every movement made reminded him of his father. Every sword slash. Every readjustment minuscule and precise. Every step. Shinoda was his own man. Despite wielding similar weapons they fought distinctly unique to themselves not each other. Much like himself and his father. But he could see from his movements the battles his Dad beat into him. Was this part of the debt Shinoda spoke of? Did Shinoda attribute his own strength to his father? The slashes left him breathless. Too far away to imitate inhalation. Weave step dodge slash. Too close to see anything beyond the screen. slash slash parry dodge slash. Too recent yet decades away, centuries maybe. When was the last time his own father rippled out the extension device? This optional trigger? Had Shiori ever realized how much she was retreading tired ground for him?

All he really needed was the terminology. Any move that could be made by a kogetsu type blade he'd gotten a glimpse of his father performing in combat. The ideal. The standard. No one could ever come close; least of all himself. Why did he have to be the one to die? Couldn't he find another way to fix this?

"Yuma!"

"Huh? What's up Shun?"

"What's up yourself! Why're you spacing out at the best part?"

He refocused. Eyes never left the screen but a shift of focus switched him back to processing what was before the trion body his dad made. Even if he stayed far from those around him he would fulfill what was asked of him. The edges of his perception fuzzy. He felt drained. Irrelevant.

"They both took advantage of the airflow system and upper ground. Nice terrain tactics. I'm glad everyone was able to work together to take him down when they did. Things could've been a lot worse for us if they didn't."

The two eldest kept quiet.

"Is that what Jin's side effect told you?"

"Hm? No, not really. Actually, Jin didn't tell me anything about the attack or what to expect until it was already happening. He came and got me so I could help him intercept the enemy from Osamu and Chika."

"So it was Jin that wanted you to fight the black trigger?" Yoneya cut in.

"Is that true?" Izumi arched a brow while Midorikawa practically leapt at the idea.

"Let's pull up that fight next!"

Numb. Cold. 'An autonomous Tropei soldier. Quite rare to see one.' Numb. Numb. Numb.

"Hold on though, you still just had a training trigger, why'd Jin pit you up against a black trigger?" Midorikawa wondered as he struggled to sort out where specifically to search for this pearticular fight amongst the data logged. The two older agents shared a look over his head while Yuma himself simply shrugged.

"Aw what? Where's the footage? There's barely anything at all in Yuma's file! How come the footage cuts out right when one of the new types hit Mister Mikumo? Wouldn't you want to-"

"I switched triggers."

"Oh yeah, Tamakoma has those sneaky triggers. I got a glimpse of Kyosuke's in the fight. I doubt Tamakoma-1's footage is in the system then either." Yoneya cut in.

"So there's no way to see it? At all?"

"It was a black trigger dummy. No record feature; no bail out. Unless someone nearby stood around to watch the fight we'll just have to press the victor himself for the details." All eyes turned expectantly to Yuma. He plastered on a duck face. Indifferent. Internally the voices screeched so loud all he heard was a ringing silence.

"...I won." 'But not in time.'

"What more is there to say?" 'I hate myself. I hate this. How could I fail? Why does it hurt so much? I'm used to losing people. When will it stop? Please don't ask more. Please just-'

"How?"

"What were they like?"

"Yeah, what sort of trigger did they have?"

"I just got lucky. He was older man; an incredibly experienced swordsman far more talented than myself. It was a black trigger."

"Which did what? What were the properties? Aftokrator had four black triggers on the field. One that could make stabby windows and teleport-"

'Speiraskia.' Just because Replica was programmed with perfect memory retention didn't mean he was useless.

"-another that could make bullets that were animals or fish or bugs."

'Alektor.'

"That one could also convert trion; he used that ability to heal himself, immobilize enemies, and change others into cubes. Super over-powered."

"But vulnerable to non-trion attacks. That's a powerful weakness to leverage with planning. Same with the teleport lady; I'll bet the big windows expend a ton of trion. She probably has a limited supply so once you pressure her, the enemies' mobility reduces."

"True true."

"Don't forget the gas and liquefying guy."

'What was that one named again?'

"Well he's not really a problem anymore now is he."

"That user specifically no, but the Neighbor who killed him took his black trigger with her."

'Vorvoros.'

"Shinoda made the counter-measures pretty clear-"

"Best to be prepared anyway-"

"What do you think Kuga?"

"I often spend time thinking of strategies, new moves, and the like so planning counter-measures with the intelligence available makes sense to me."

"What did the fourth black trigger do?"

'Organon...Aftokrator's 'national treasure'.'

"A sword disguised as a staff; it produced multiple blades that moved at high and varied speeds around orbital paths."

"Uh-

"That sounds intense."

"How do you shield something like that? If it's a ring it could easily go around your defenses."

"You can only really dodge, evade and counter-attack."

"How'd you win if you were fighting defensively?"

"Who said anything about defense? I was constantly pressing the attack. We tested each other, he let me waste his time, and then I caught him by surprise. I won by luck alone and could not beat him in a fight again."

"Seriously?"

"And yet you said crushing my team would take no effort at all- You're ruthless, you know that?"

To the side Izumi felt sweat bead his brow. He figured the neighbor kid was intense, but did he openly say he could crush an A rank squad single-handedly? Even lower A rank was no joke. He'd have to press Yoneya for details later, after Midorikawa wandered off.
"You really don't think you could beat him at all again? But you beat him the first time-"

"I followed orders. Thanks again Midorikawa," He bowed slightly to the younger boy he was made to look up at. Then the others who towered ever exponentially over him. He bowed low.

"Thank you very much for taking the time to show me the battle logs from agent perspectives. I appreciate your wisdom on the subject. I am headed back to Tamakoma now." He turned to wave, duck face hiding the uneae that his sudden goodbye would spark waves amongst the other's pleasant banter. Pinpricks of potential discomfort as he bounced back towards his fake body. He received a pout, a nod, and a couple waves back. A human response.

"See ya!"

"Nice meeting ya kid."

"Good luck at the match tomorrow Yuma!" Having heard such encouragement his lips were upturned all the way to the elevator, completely unaware to even question why he felt so light until he glimpsed the smile hooked on his body's reflection. When had that gotten there? He was constantly forcing a smile or a duck face as he volunteered to be here and thus had no basis for complaints. But the thought his smile was real? Had revealed itself not only unprompted but had slipped past his guard. Was happy to have spoken with them? Until the scrutiny turned towards him, he had rather enjoyed battle talk. Was this the fun Jin had alluded to the first night they talked?

'The only time they really talked... But that's not fair... He came up briefly a few times before and I've been avoiding him too.' No part of him blamed others; not the one who undoubtedly saw this pathway yet urged himself and Replica alike to proceed no matter what, nor Osamu who threw what remained of Replica's main body through the gate onto the Aftokrator ship. 'Go protect Osamu and Chika.' 'Roger.' Those were his main body's words. That was his response. Their last conversation...

Yuma hovered on the edge of the restricted zone. Already yet little remained in his memory to connect the haunted doll's smile against steel mere moments ago to the overly ambitious clouds obscuring a blue sky above. He wasn't being chewed on by guilt or grief, neither was he fool-heartedly throwing himself into a task or plan. In this instant he felt weightless and caught. Like a chunk of fur on a spiked trap. He pretended to breathe while everything in the world around him moved and grew and changed. Never him. Even the buildings became windswept and stained, lived in and worn. Trees grew, flowers died, bloomed, sprouted somewhere else only to end up beheaded in a human's coffin or shaking hand. Depends on the place. Breathe in. Breathe out. In.

'Look around you. Focus your other senses on the present Yuma.' Replica constantly chided with antenna that bounced lightly with worry. Out. There was a store filled with plant signs and brimmed with bouquets across the way. 'Do flowers here express in symbol life or death? Why are they bought and traded in Japan?' Another gap in his knowledge. Breathe in. Only one way to find out. He felt the same curiosity brim over into action when he was almost hit by a bike one two many times early on. Breathe out. His father ingrained within his being that if he understood something there was no need to fear it. And his mother had-

Breathe in. Replica was with him when he bought the bike. He helped manage the currencies. Whispered possible pros and cons of various models. Suggestions for negotiating with the bicycle merchant. This wasn't something he had tackled by himself since- Since- Breathe in. Since- Breathe out.

'Am I still in a trion body? Breathe in. The border one. I can't- Breathe in. Which one again why can't- Breathe in. Somethings not- Breathe in. But trion bodies can drown so maybe they need air after all? Breathe in. Can't feel. Breathe in. Wait maybe- Breathe- Osamu. Breathe. Dad I'm scared. Breathe. Will I be allowed to see you again when I die? With all the blood on my hands, will something like me be allowed in the same realm after death as a protector like you? I know you and Osamu will end up in the same place. Will you telling stories of me sometimes be the only piece of me that survives my body's oblivion? Replica would know. I killed him too. I hope Osamu survives. No one will remember. What's there to remember? Yugo made you useful, not real, even before the body- Don't remember that. We don't talk about that. Dad's voice?'

'I promise not to talk about your Mom ever again; if you promise to do whatever you can to survive. Deal?'

'Yugo, as Yuma's guardian I must insist that you don't-'

'Deal. Dad, please. I don't want to remember.'

'You don't have to. But you must learn from your mistakes going forward. You, especially, can learn from every single situation.'

'Is every situation I'm in a mistake? Because of me Mom- Dad- Replica- I know there are two bodies but was Mo- Don't remember- Don't remember- Breathe- Ah! Breathe out.'

The boy coughed, spluttered, doubled over and steadily re-caught his breath. He had never been allowed to spiral that much before. Breathe in and out. In and out. Border's trigger deactivated. In and out. Shadows stretched low and long by the departing sun in a sky of muted orange. In and out. He stepped across the threshold between abandoned wreckage and civilian life. In and out. A glance across the street revealed the open sign had been flipped off. Light failed to illuminate anything beyond leafy silhouettes like an unexplored forest. In and out. No flower shop today. Yet another question unanswered. He focused on his breath the rest of the trip back until his chest moved enough and at such intervals to be considered normal. The rest of the night would be spent on mental simulations against Suwa and Arafune squads. Worst case scenario he may have to take two teams head on by himself. Best to have plans for such. In the interim he fixed a smile to his face and prepared for the evening meal. No one needed to know why there was a tremor in the fingers is father made; absent on his own decrepit form. No one seemed to see a tremor at all.

~

After dinner, Osamu, Chika, and himself resumed strategizing in the basement. Well. Absent instruction Chika had taken to working on homework. Osamu primarily strategized. With various logs pulled up across multiple machine surfaces and notes strewn all about the desk, crumpled and kind of comprehensible alike, he was sort of in his own world. Yuma loved it. How enthralled the other was in the task at hand. Green eyes alight with possibility as they analyzed scenarios only visible to himself. He wondered how close they were to reality. He loved to see how dedicated Osamu to fulfilling his goal. Their goal. To helping his teammates. To-

"Yuma. We have defense duty tonight. We'll walk Chika home then head over."

"Got it, Reiji."

"Thanks." Chika nodded.

"Osamu. Call it a day. You haven't stopped working since yesterday. We can walk you back home too if you want."

His friend was quick to prattle off his progress and plans before the lines of thought got too specific and he vanished within his inner realm of simulations and possible patterns once more. He always had a feeling Osamu would make a great tactician, but he took to the role far faster than anticipated.

"You just got out of the hospital. Don't go pushing yourself too much. We're headed out. Good night."

Already lost in thought, the trio said little in the face of Osamu's silence. His lips moved whilst he mumbled to himself. He swore something hummed deep within his bones at the sight of his captain. Caught off guard by the sensation, he spoke up in the elevator.

"That's why we have to win no matter what."

"Yeah." Chika smiled wide.

'For Osamu... For my captain...'

~

Their second rank war battle went about how he expected; though he wasn't prepared for his opponents to have grasped his Border moves already. Nor was he thrilled with how close things came at the end. Had Suwa taken him down before Osamu could secure the point- Well... That would be his captain's problem to address in the future. He waved at said person in and out of the arena post-battle. Though a squint through his duck face revealed his captain's ghost of a smile was more one of relief than celebration. The seemingly ever present cold sweat on his brow despite being in a trion body.

"Chika I'm so sorry~" Shiori cried and pulled at their youngest teammate's cheeks.

"Are you okay? Was it scary?"

"I'm alright." Not really an answer. Bail out was an incredible feature though, and one he hoped she got more comfortable with. A glance told him Osamu was still pre-occupied; likely reviewing their performance in his head already. Looking for points of possible improvement. In the present though...

"Thanks Chika. You really saved me out there."

Osamu sighed beside him.

"Sure thing!" She beamed with a nod.

"Do you want me to pull up the tail end of the commentary for us to watch? I think they got Azuma today; lucky!" The commentary was quite astute. The longer haired man and what looked like someone from Miwa squad were especially perceptive. After the ranks were updated and their next opponents were announced Shiori started tapping to shut down her station.

"I'll be out in just a few minutes. Reiji already said he was on his way to pick us up so he'll be here soon."

"Okay. I'll wait outside then. Want to come Yuma?"

"Sure."

"Chika?"

"I'll stay with Shiori for now, see you soon!" He followed his captain from their temporary squad room to the spacious hall maze of HQ.

"Nasu Squad and Suzunari-1 are our next opponents. We'll have to pull up the logs of previous rank battles once we're back on base. We only have a few days between now and our next match. Gotta make the most of the time we have to prepare. Especially given the fact we'll be the top seated team like Azuma said. Everyone will be gunning for us and we won't be able to pick the map like last time." Osamu said, mind a mile away with fantasies of a future fight. Yuma smiled slightly at the sight. 'He couldn't even let himself enjoy the moment for a second. Someday I'll find a way to help him relax.'

"Hey guys." Yoneya wandered down the hall, all smiles, with Midorikawa buzzing beside him. There was a third person trailing behind them once again, someone whose name continued to allude him, a sniper from the day he met Miwa squad.
"Congratulations on the match! Nice use of the grasshopper by the way; you nailed Arafune!" Midorikawa meandered down the hall initially, but rapidly picked up speed once he saw Tamakoma-2. Upon reaching them he smirked and held up an arm. With two layers of trion between his real self and the person before him he threw caution to the wind and mirrored the gesture. There fists bumped together yet no heat sparked bwtween them. What an interesting non-combat use of knuckles. He smiled free of his duck face when they made contact.
"Thanks again for showing it to me."

"That's right. You did promise me a rematch solo rank battle in return for the lesson ."

"I did. Want to take care of that right now?"

"Really?! Let's go!"

"Wait- Now?" Yuma threw a duck face out with a wave, a shield from the flutters that fought against his ribcage at the sight of Osamu's flustered surprise.
"Yep! I promised Shun a rematch in exchange for training. You don't have to wait for me; I will find a way back to Tamakoma later." With that, he darted after the taller boy. With a suppressed laugh he leapt into the first empty booth he saw, mind swarmed with various ideas to experiment with grasshopper. Maybe the fun wasn't over yet.

~

Had the pair gone 10 rounds instead of twenty, the score would have been 7-3 in his favor against Shun Midorikawa.
He lost 4-6 against Ko Murakami.

As soon as he heard the name murmured by a C-rank behind him he knew he wanted to fight this man. Aside from his obvius stength the other's instant aversion to the notion of them fighting peaked his interest. He hadn't been this properly curious in years. Who wouldn't scrath an itch if they just remembered they had skin in a suit of feathers; fanned by the breeze of other combatants.

Yuma gladly offered himself up. Honest. A direct engagement.

The man had been all smiles; polite yet firm with his demands. A ten round match with a fifteen minute break betwen. He slept. He could relax enough in this foriegn, utilitarian, maze of a space to sleep. How could anyone ever feel so comfortable? After a fight no less?
"The human brain organizes memory during sleep. My brain rapidly improves that function. It's called Enhanced Sleep Learning. I'm just another agent with a side effect."

He hadn't had a human brain in years. He hadn't slept in years. He hadn't organized a memory as there was nothing to document aside from one, four year long day.

"I understand. This will be tough."

After his loss against Murakami, Yuma decided not to return to HQ until the next rank war battle. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or anything. Maybe a little. People lost duels all the time. Everyday. He had been in a room designed for that very purpose. No one died. They were all here to learn and get better. The looks in the eyes of his companions burned away at his resolve as the images of their hung on the insides of his eyelids. Both of them. Breathe in. Breathe out. He forced the rise and fall of the trion chest he was caged within to distract from the sudden itchy sting that throbbed where his left eye should be. Was.

It was pity. It was disdain. It was judgment. 'I told you so' was written on everyone's faces except for poor sweet Osamu who was distraught; as though he had just witnessed the execution of an acquaintance rather than a ten round duel. For training. For intel collection. For fun. This was mutual. Agreed upon. Sure people tried to warn him but it was just for rank wars. Not even, just training for rank wars. For fun. This was fun- Why had everyone been-? Osamu was quick to pull Yuma away to retreat to Tamakoma Branch. Hurried explanations of team meetings and obligatory thanks for entertaining Yuma. Best wishes before the next round. He looked between his frazzled captain and the varying looks of judgment from people he thought of as rivals, potential training partners, maybe even friends-
"What are we supposed to do now Kuga?"

'Last name. Osamu is mad. I hate when he's upset.'

"Well you told everyone we were going back to Tamakoma for a team meeting. Is that not what we're doing?" A heavy sigh. His scowl was poorly hidden by his hand's aborted motion to push up his glasses. While fairly common in the first few days of their budding friendship, frustration had largely fizzled away from his friend. He tried to listen. Tried to adhere to the ludicrous and copious rules Osamu deemed to inflict upon him. For his own good. For the good of others. Osamu was always a sucker for people in need. He would never lead Yuma astray. Whatever his captain deemed best was what should come to pass. He was two for two when it came to his decisions killing people he cared about. Which was why he initially entrusted decision making to Osamu. Yuma's job as his teammate, his friend, his partner-

"Yes. We're going back to the Tamakoma branch now. But why did you offer yourself up to Murakami like that when all our seniors were warning you off? I didn't even see your side effect activate. There's no way you didn't know it was a trap. Why would you walk right into it?" There was another comment burning beneath his words. Yuma saw it in his leaf like look; green and shaken from a gust of wind. ...Disappointment?

"Of course it was a trap. Better to spring it now than in the match. Having advanced intel is a key competent in warfare and strategy. The more knowledge you have the better. It's one of the reasons Jin is so strong." 'And so dangerous.'

"Okay, but now Murakami knows all your moves. We're going to have to do some serious brainstorming to come up with a strategy able to counter him. If you had just waited until the match, he wouldn't know what he was getting into either. You had the upper hand in the first five rounds- Just-" All the vitality seemed to drain from him as he finally turned from his ranting and worrying and gesturing at the air to look at Yuma himself proper. An instant deflation was the gift his timid smile earned from his captain. Like Yotaro popping balloons after celebrating their team's first victory. A sudden bang and the state of things became irreversibly different. Even if their seniors deemed to celebrate their earlier victory tonight happiness had left his friend.

"I'm sorry Osamu, I really didn't think it was that big of a deal. Only solo points were exchanged and Murakami was going to study my moves any way. At least now I have an idea of how he moves too so-"

"You can't feign ignorance with this one Kuga. Why did you just ignore your side effect? The warnings of everyone around you? It's not like you to be so careless."

'Osamu knows about Dad. He knows. He KNOWS. Is this about-?'

"Sorry. I thought I could handle it. I didn't think losing outside of the rank wars mattered."

"I don't care about winning or losing personally. I just never thought- We'll be fine. Let's just talk with our mentors and reassess the situation. I'm sure they have some useful insight on how I can run damage control."

"Sorry Osamu..."

"In the grand scheme of things it's not a big deal. Just try to be more careful in the future." Like a switch he was distant once more. Osamu stood firm and resolved, seeming far calmer outwardly than his frazzled display moments before. Yet he could feel the falsity of it. Osamu didn't spare him a glance as they exited the elevator. This would be a long walk back to the branch. At least they had each other. Quiet company was better than none though at this point Yuma would take whatever he could get regardless.

The journey was long and pointedly silent yet Yuma couldn't being himself to care for the space. The distance. In this moment, he was with Osamu. Even if things were a little tense, even if every spare moment between now and the match in a few days would be dedicated towards countermeasures and strategies against Murakami, here he was with his best friend. His partner. His reason for staying. For carrying on.

Osamu didn't see the smile he constantly fought off in his presence. Another battle he lost more often than not. A few strides apart, together beneath the sky with a man more dedicated to helping others than furthering his own desires; Yuma was almost able to pretend he was walking behind his Dad once more. With someone whom mutual care was a given. Whom hugs were exchanged with. Whose silence was reverent as they watched the world burn together and took notes on which shade of orange was produced on this particular planet. He wished he'd thought to share some of those moments before Replica broke in two. Before he was gone. Yuma would be gone soon too. He silently hoped Osamu might remember the shade of the sky as they walked home together. Somehow, he got the feeling Osamu would remember little, lost in his head as he was. But that was the power, of hope; despite how improbable, the present remained mutable and any future possible. Even one were Osamu smiled back. Even one where he might be remembered as more than just a failure. Hope was dangerous for the same reason however; unless one acknowledged the futility of wishes, one could drown in the expectations that hard work or positive intentions secured results. Nothing was guaranteed and hopes were implausible.

Osamu didn't really look at him. He didn't really mind. After all, he too was somewhere else; he saw the back of his father more than that of his current partner. 'Don't read into that.' He restrained his hopes once they returned, and the lightness that coiled within Osamu slipped back out in the presence if his other friends. If he was unable to support Osamu then he would be thankful at least someone was. Every person deserved to feel supported. If Yuma tried hard enough maybe he could feel like a person one day too.
~

Chapter Text

~~~
(Osamu)

Osamu stood a bit stunned as his team's ace spun round to present him with a smile; only to say goodbye.

"I promised Midorikawa a match so I will be at the solo rank place for awhile; see you back at base later." With a wave Yuma was off. He and Midorikawa exchanged a fist bump once more and split directions down the hall, booths and match duration seemingly already in mind.

"They seem to get along well." Yoneya smirked.

"Looks like they're friends." The other man with Yoneya, one of the Miwa squad snipers or another A rank agent maybe, pushed up his glasses; not quiet perturbed by his own observation but at least mildly uncomfortable.

Yuma? Friends with a Border agent from Headquarters? If you told him this would happen two months ago, not only would he dis-believe it but he would find the notion impossible. Yuma always seemed to excel at making the impossible a reality however. A truth to be pointed out gently with world-shattering consequences in mind, rather than the gut-punch the small boy seemed to throw at everything. An observation made after seeing him try to interact with normal Japanese civilians.

Despite lingering worries, part of him couldn't help but be thrilled at the thought of Yuma gaining friends and allies, people who could challenge him and whom he could turn to. His mother had been caring for him an unreasonable amount lately and all of his seniors at Tamakoma were urging him to take a break. Even Chika had been extra insistent lately that he eat and take care of himself. They had all noticed the shift in him. Part of him was elated that so many people were taking notice of his actions. Yet a twisted part of himself couldn't help but feel their pestering words were antithetical to his declaration and goals. In that regard, only Yuma had yet to speak out against his quiet inclination to work himself into the ground. He knew his actions maybe weren't the healthiest at times, neither were they sustainable, however he was determined to pull his weight. He said they would get on an away mission. He was going to make that happen.

Shiori chose that moment to emerge from their temporary squad room and call out to the Miwa squad members. Chika drifted after her with smile. At the same time down the other end of the hall two other agents wandered over.

"Uh oh. It's Tamakoma." The shorter agent with near shoulder length hair meandered over with a sour expression.

"Usami, hey." His companion, while stoic also strode over with a smile and bangs slicked back.

"Oh!~ Uttei and Kikuchi!"

"We saw the match from our squad-room."

"If it isn't the traitor who turned to Tamakoma." While the taller agent carried on with a smile, the shorter man behind him began to 'boo' quietly. Just who were these guys? Shiori had affectionately locked the shorter in a choke-hold so-

"Does Usami know them?"

"Those two are with Kazama Squad. When Shiori was stationed at HQ she was their squad's operator."

"What? Seriously?!" He was thankful to still be in a trion body otherwise sweat would certainly have begun to streak down his brow. Kazama was Border's third best attacker according to the solo rank wars point system. 'If I remember correctly, his squad is in the upper tier of A rank, third or fourth I think. So everyone else on the team really is A rank material...' He tried to tune back into the conversation quickly.

"Did Kazama see the match too?" His incredibly skilled operator asked. With a reluctantly tone the shorter agent answered.

"Yeah, he saw. He said that you used Suwa squad well. But he also said it won't go so well the next time."

"Harsh as always." The girl with glasses grinned.

"If Kuga is the only person on the squad who can handle one-on-one combat you'll never make it past B rank." He continued. His gaze was solid; a slight drift between himself and Chika just behind him. He heard her shuffle slightly and stayed still himself. Regardless of his intentions, his assessment was correct.

"Sorry, he can be rude. I'm Utagawa; pleasure to meet you."

"No worries" He bowed slightly when the taller agent offered a wave. Chika bowed slightly too.

"Nice to meet you."

"Oh! Reiji just messaged he's here to pick us up. Are you coming with us Osamu?" Shiori turned her smile towards him.

"I'll come back with Kuga."

"Alright. See you later!"

"Hey, let's all head to the solo rank wars. What's you say?" Yoneya nodded over to the Kazama squad members after his own squad-mates departed.

"We're about to start a defense shift soon." Utugawa smiled somewhat abashedly.

"We're not slackers like you lot." Yoneya was quick to twist the cheeky comment into an excuse to lock the shorter agent in the same choke-hold Shiori had deployed against him just a minute ago.

"You just can't control that tongue of yours, can you Kikuchihara?"

"No violence, please. This is harassment." They didn't linger for long. Before him knew it, he had drifted after the two Miwa agents towards the solo booths. The silence that settled seemed amicable enough, if a bit awkward. 'Seems like a waste given their rank and experience to stand in silence though...' Come to think of it, he had not spoken to either agent since the invasion. Was it because they were busy trying to find a new team member...?

"I was wondering... Is agent Miwa S rank now? After I woke up, I heard from Jin that he saved me with Fujin."

"Nope. We're all still on the same squad as A ranks." Beside Yoneya, Kodera pushed up his glasses before he spoke.

"According to Miwa, Fujin is powerful but as a weapon it lacks adaptability, the attacks are just too specialized. He suggested to upper management that he remain on A rank and keep Fujin on standby as needed."

"Really? He didn't mention any of this to me..."

"That's because you start to zone out if you even think we're talking about managerial or political topics."

"Checks out with me." He seemed oddly smug for being called out for and. or accused to ignoring important conversations.

"The current plan, as far as I know, is for Fujin to remain at HQ so any of the compatible agents may wield it as necessary. There are plans to offer lessons for said agents in the near future. Jin offered to teach those lessons himself."

"Jin said that?!"

"First he gave up his black trigger now he's giving lectures on how to use it? What a weird guy."

"Well... He probably has something in mind by doing all this..." It was just a feeling. A tremor in his chest. Jin was too strong, too tactical, had too powerful of a side effect to be caught up in nonsense. All the other agents at Tamakoma dared not doubt Jin. His word was gospel. He too would act as such. He was briefly of his conversation with Kazama. Jin gave up his black trigger for-

"True enough. It is Jin after all. Anyway, who do you think is in the lead as of now? Midorikawa or the Albino Shrimp?"

The answer was Yuma of course. While it was true Midorikawa was talented, just as Yoneya stated before he lacked the same precision and subtlety as Yuma. His moves were far too overzealous compared to the combat veteran. Not to mention that with Yuma's addition of the graashopper, his own movements had become increasingly erratic seeming. At times, he found he could hardly chase the pair with his eyes. Not ten minutes later the two emerged once more. Midorikawa with a groan and a face palm and Yuma with a small smile and nod of his head.

"Excellent, I am starting to figure this out."

"Awe man the more we do this the less I win; Yoneyan, how bad was it this time?"

"Total score was 21 to 9."

"So if we went ten rounds?" Midorikawa wiggled with hope for a second. Yoneya smirked but it was Kodera that burst this kid's bubble when he spoke up.

"In that case it would have been 7 to 3." Kodera helpfully provided with another adjustment of his glasses. While Osamu could relate, this seemed more like a habit to him.

"Awww! At least it's better than last time..."

"You've already improved a lot Midorikawa."

"It was pretty even in the beginning."

"Geez, and now he's trying to make me feel better, this sucks."

"But it's true." Yuma arched an eyebrow through the duck-face he'd donned since he emerged from a booth.

"By the way. Which one of you came up with the strategy to use Suwa?"

"I've been wondering that myself. Does shorty handle all the battle planning as ace or do you try to take the wheels as captain, Four-eyes?"

"Er- Well..." 'While it's true I did prepare a bit for today's battle I can't take all the credit. Over half my ideas Yuma or Shiroi had to veto. It's clear my knowledge is still in-sufficient-'

"Osamu comes up with our strategies. He's growing into a fine tactician."

"Is that so?"

"I- Guess. I mean it is true that I technically came up with the strategy for today's match but I never could have done it without Yuma here." The white haired boy smiled up at him. A wide grin with sparks of light caught within violently red eyes. The stared into his soul. He repressed a shiver.

"I do whatever my captain tells me to."

"Oh?"

"Anything you say?"

"Guys..." Osamu was never comfortable with how blasé Yuma could be with leaving his decision-making under his jurisdiction. The last thing he needed were other agents egging him on. Especially Yoneya, who he respected immensely but proved to be somewhat rambunctious; especially if a certain self-proclaimed puppy was around. Thankfully, they both seemed a bit tamer in the presence of Yoneya's teammate, Kodera. If only just. Midorikawa was still quick to rapid fire questions with Yoneya's occasional contribution.

"Would you fight Tachikawa?"

"Of course."

"What about Yoneya?"

"I want to do that anyways."

"Miwa?"

"Hm. Sure."

"Shinoda?"

"If Osamu needed me to."

"Kid’s a fighting freak, no wonder you guys get along, Midorikawa." Yoneya chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean? Maybe you're just jealous I got a fight first."

"I doubt Midorikawa would ever try to fight Shinoda, though." Kodera eyed said boy as he pushed up his glasses.

"You’re right this is getting us nowhere."

"Okay, time for a sanity check." Kodera clapped his hands together once before he twisted slightly to the short agent.

"Kuga, would you jump off a bridge?"

"Gladly!"

"HEY-"

"Alright, now it’s gone too far."

"What?"

"Kuga?"

"Osamu would never ask something of me without a reason. Likely a very good one. It’s not my place to question him." Oasmu was desperately wishing he could sink into the floor at the moment as he scanned the back of his teammate's head for any insight into his thought pattern. No luck. The pair of older agents shared a look. Ultimately, the sniper found the courage to speak first.

"It sounds like you’re relying on your captain more than I thought…"

"We’re partners, of course we’ll rely on each other!"

"Fair, and I totally respect teammates talking things through together, but what you described is more blindly following orders."

"I still think for myself, obviously. Osamu left the details up to me; so long as I achieve the intended result. The trust goes both ways. So we make a good team. Besides, part of an effective soldier's role is to follow their captain's orders."
Was it trust? In reality, Osamu rarely thought to so much as question Yuma’s strength. For the white-haired boy to face an enemy able to make him waver, let alone give him grief, was quite uncommon. The only person he could think of actually was Konami, his mentor. He assumed Jin, and thus by extension Tachikawa and anyone from upper management with ill will really, would provide a challenge for the neighbor kid. Osamu had confidence in Yuma’s battle prowess, but not from trust. Was that more fear of the devastation he’d seen wrought or respect that the job would be handled skillfully? In those first few days, when he knew Yuma more as the clueless kid who would rather break a leg than change for a hundred dollar bill, his actions were driven more by fear than respect. Over time and the strange boy repeatedly showing up to cover for him without request had leveled the fear to respect ratio closer to fifty-fifty. If he was being honest, he had never seen a decrease in Yuma’s violent tendencies, the boy simply found socially acceptable targets in simulated environments and common enemies with Border. Was a part of him still acting out of fear of his teammate's capabilities? He knew he was holding Chika back, he had to, but was he subconsciously holding Yuma back as well? If he gave Kuga the green-light for fighting, how much chaos could he cause?

"-umo?”

Was the fall out controllable, or even predictable?

"Hey, Mikumo?"

"Ah! Sorry, I got a bit caught up in my head-"

"Yeah. Clearly."

“You doing okay in there?"

"Yep! Just thinking..." Kodera gave him a once over. Behind him Yoneya was not so subtly shoving Yuma towards the solo booths, only to be stop as his eye seemed to catch someone else in the crowd.

"Yo, Arafune." Yoneya called out to the familiar figure.

"Arafune!" He couldn't help but exclaim, surprised by the sight. They had just gotten out of a match. He knew Kuga was a bit battle crazed but Arafune had likely only just recovered his trion and he was already trying to train? Was this the true intensity he would have to harnass to succeed as an agent?

"Oh. You guys are still here?" The sniper wandered over, hands hidden in his pockets, only to be intercepted by a bouncy Midorikawa; mischievous puppy dog grin in place.

"What's up Arafune? How'd it feel to get owned by Yuma? Trying to train up to redeem yourself?"

"Well, if it isn't Midorikawa. I heard you bet against me in the match earlier you little punk!"

"It's what my side effect told me!"

'Wait does he really?' A glance to his shorter friend revealed his answer within the other's blackened pupils. Like charcoal in a fire as he watched, unmoved. 'His side effect sure is useful. Still... There sure has been a lot of rough-housing at HQ today. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or worried that Yuma wasn't partaking.

"If you're only ever fighting long range your skills are bound to get rusty."

"Oh yeah? How about you get in a booth and I'll show you some skills." Arafune punched into his palm with a smirk. Osamu had half the mind to suspect the younger agent would comply when the sea of white-clad agents around them was washed over by a wave of gasps. Himself, and most of the other agents present, were quick to turn and see what all the fuss was about. In strode a man in a muted green and deep black uniform. His subtly brown hair, almost a twinge of gray, was shorter but and pushed back from his face. He seemed a bit baffled himself by the reaction he received, but carried on regardless. The crowd crooned out answers to questions before he could think to vocalize them. Unwilling to base anything solely off the whimsical words of C ranks he turned to Kodera.

"Who's he?"

"That's agent Murakami from Suzunari-1. Currently ranked number four attacker. Supposedly, he's why Arafune quit being an attacker himself."

He watched as Murakami peeked around Arafune and locked eyes with his teammate. Hazel thrown at cherries. Yuma was quick to close his eyes however and offer a cursory wave.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Murakami Ko of Suzunari-1"

"Hello. Kuga Yuma of Takakoma-2. This is our captain, Osamu." 'Darn it Kuga.' This was a dramatic meeting between two top level fighters. An elite encounter. They may already be gauging each others skill somehow. When would he get dragged into this. Regardless, he rushed to bow politely. With Yuma having explicitly pointed him out there wasn't much else to be done.

"N-nice to meet you."

"Same here." No bow was offered to him or Yuma, but he did nod with a warm smile to each respectfully.

"Arafune isn't the only person whose rare to sight around here. Did you come to spy on this guy?" Yoneya tussled Yuma's white locks. The short boy retreated behind his duck-face once more while the other attacker continued to observe with open interest. Osamu felt the beginnings of unease start to creep it's way through his system, like a salmon's sprint upstream.

"A new attacker capable of cutting down Arafune and a tactician capable of forcing him to draw Kogetsu." He saw red peek back out and was similarly surprised that Murakami had mentioned him in terms of potential danger.

"Tamakoma-2 seems pretty strong. I'm glad to catch Midorikawa here. Help me train a bit."

"No thanks! I just lost a bunch of rounds; I can't afford to be beaten anymore today." Midorikawa gestured towards his squad's ace. Yuma himself flicked his eyes between the other two agents though was largely fixated on Murakami. He could never get a read on his shorter friend, not really, but there was a gleam in his gaze, something that lurked behind his expression that would have rose goosebumps from his skin had he not been in a trion body. Osamu fought the urge to push up his own glasses as he stared between the two aces; locked onto each other like pro boxers in the moments before the bell rings. Intrigue. Respect. A subtle prod of defenses being gauged. There was a language here that he had yet to learn. Just how talent was Murakami to be able to enrapture Yuma's attention so completely? Not that he was space-y or anything, but it was rare, from what he could recall, for Yuma to be adamantly interested in whatever happened to be going on. Whether that was his true nature of a restriction forced upon him by spending so long trapped in a trion body who was to say. He found it reassuring, that his friend could still experience such depth of feeling after all he had been through, and concerned, that such a look seemed so rare on his child-like face. Not to mention that which sparked his curiosity was the prospect of inflicting more violence... 'At least it's consensual this time...'
"Come and fight me, Ko." Yoneya chimed in all smiles.

"Thanks for the offer but you don't use grasshopper." Murakami was gentle yet firm. He had an oddly calm demeanor for a fighter. Then again, most agents he'd come to know at HQ seemed far more laid back he'd expect; given their jobs and alleged faction allegiances."

"Oh. Your objective was that. Fight me then." Yuma did not just say that. There's no way Yuma just said that. All eyes locked onto the white-haired boy. Expressionless, he offered himself up to the number four attacker.

"Best to fight the real thing. I want to know how you fight as well." No one moved an inch in the wake of Kuga's words. He too stood motionless, yet all-perceiving. Such an odd sensation. Thankfully Murakami bore the brunt of his fire-less gaze. A violent abyss of a snowfield. All at once time started to flow as Murakami tried to fill the space with words.

"That's..." He failed in the wake of Kuga. A boy born by war. A battlefield every day he'd said once. If they fought, surely he could win as always. He was immovable, indestructible; literally. Why feign anything else? Surely advanced intel wouldn't hurt. Given his past and side effect, there's no way Yuma would fall into a tap. Especially after he sent such a strong vibe off earlier. Part of him wanted to inquire about the technique later but a deeper part got the distinct sense he would neither like nor feel comfortable with the answer. Forgetting was not an action he was capable of.

While Murakami's efforts to voice his own thoughts failed, the action incentivized others to take their own shot. A gentle reminder that time was real and the ludicrous statement really had been spoken.

"Take back that offer Kuga. You'll be at a disadvantage in the next match."While his expression hardly changed, Yuma seemed surprised. 'What's he mean by that? Why-'

"Saying something one way or the other might be unfair, but Arafune is right. Don't fight him yet Kuga." Another piped up as he scratched the back of his head. 'Yoneya too...? What's going on? He knows that Yuma's a neighbor; he experience his strength first had. Sure he's still a bit new to Border triggers I guess but-'

"I understand. Now I really want to fight him.

"Yuma..." Midorikawa's tone was warning, a borderline growl softened only by the fact he'd donned Yuma's normal duck face.

"I know." A bare bones attempt at pacification was thrown the boy's way for his concern.

"I don't really understand, but I know neither of you are lying to me. However, that just just makes me want to fight him even more."

Murakami drew a long pause as he chewed over Yuma's words. He was a bit uneasy about this bull-headed approach himself. It seemed a bit uncharacteristic to the normal approach they'd been inclined to of researching copiously, planning carefully, and executing accordingly. This seemed so needlessly reckless. Was it because this was for solo rank wars instead of the team base ones? Did he think this would only impact him?

A nervousness pulsed throughout Osamu as the number four attacker finally made his declaration.

"Not much data exists yet on Tamakoma-2. I'll agree on two conditions; we go ten rounds and after the fifth round we take a fifteen minute break. Is this acceptable?" Something within Murakami had shifted after he started speaking. By the end, he had completely clocked in to Yuma alone. The boy smiled back; energy he had barely subdued while the other, more experienced Boreder, agents failed to warn him off. This was insane, but Kuga had to have a plan. After all, there was no hesitation as he spoke; though a smile had finally cracked the doll-like look.

"Of course."

"Half-time~" Yoneya sang out. 'Two months. That's the amount of time Kuga has had with a Border trigger and he's already going toe to toe with high ranked attackers. I knew he had to have some sort of plan. I'm sure-'

"You think he's got this in the bag. I can tell. But there's a reason people are afraid of Murakami, Four-eyes. This is where he gets scary."

It was over in a flash. Not that Kuga failed to put up a fight but Yoneya had been right. Everyone had been right. He was completely crushed.

"Ten round match over. Winner Murakami."

'6-4. Total score was six wins Murakami to Yuma's four. Yuma lost. Murakami made a five round comeback and Yuma lost. He seemed so strong against the older against in the first half. What changed between the halves? Was it something to do with why the agents tried to warn him away?' His nerves ticked up as none of the other agents really looked his way, an awkward shroud settled overhead.

"And there you have it." Yoneya attempted to clear the air to little avail.

"He is Border's number four attacker after all."

"Glad I got my matches in with Yuma before." Midorikawa rocked back and forth on his feet. Puppy dog smile where his friend would typically deploy a duck face.

"You think Kuga will agree to fight me after?" Yoneya rubbed the back of his hair again. Kodera had pulled out his phone, whether to actually take care of something or simply to evade engaging was anyone's guess. Osamu didn't blame him either way.

"...I think it's best if Kuga and I head back to our branch."

"I get that. Oh he's back."

"Hey Osamu-"

"Oh. Kuga-" He tried to suppress a wince; unsure if the urge came from being caught spaced out again or his uncertainty with how to deal with a defeated- No. That's not fair.

"-Let's head back to Tamakoma. Thank you all again for entertaining Kuga. We have a team meeting to get to. Please take care." Before Kuga could cause anymore chaos he grabbed him and darted in the direction of the exit. The last thing he needed was the boy to open his mouth and summon another disaster. Once they were at the edge of the solo booth viewing area he unlatched from the other. He was quick to depart and prayed his teammate would follow him without incident. Osamu tried his best to school his expression and racing mind alike while he waited for the crowd to thin out. They were nearly at the elevator by the time he felt composed enough, and as though they were in a private enough location, to speak.
"What are we supposed to do now Kuga?"

"Well you told everyone we were going back to Tamakoma for a team meeting. Is that not what we're doing?" He couldn't help but sigh. Sure his friend was literal minded but surely he wasn't that dense. He also was never one to avoid confrontation. Clearly.

"Yes. We're going back to the Tamakoma branch now. But why did you offer yourself up to Murakami like that when all our seniors were warning you off? I didn't even see your side effect activate. There's no way you didn't know it was a trap. Why would you walk right into it?" He tried to be direct as well. The elevator doors closed behind them. He felt Kuga's eyes on him but focused instead on tapping the ground floor button. He wanted to continue to believe this boy to be unbeatable. And yet-

"Of course it was a trap. Better to spring it now than in the match. Having advanced intel is a key competent in warfare and strategy. The more knowledge you have the better. It's one of the reasons Jin is so strong." While not incorrect, he had long since ceased to doubt whenever Yuma's tone droned into military talk and he had never questioned his experience, yet something here didn't sit right with him. Osamu felt the other sliding away from something. It irked him in a way he had yet to feel with his friend before. Why was he being so dismissive of this? How were they supposed to win if-

"Okay, but now Murakami knows all your moves. We're going to have to do some serious brainstorming to come up with a strategy able to counter him. If you had just waited until the match, he wouldn't know what he was getting into either. You had the upper hand in the first five rounds- Just-" He finally thought to look down at the boy beside him. Far from the doll look of earlier, his expression now was child-like, pupils wide and light reflections created the illusion of wetness. His mouth was open ever so slightly, drifted towards a frown. Small shoulders tense. He stood rigid. Like a soldier. Like he was trained. They were the same age. How many wars had he fought in? Was that why he's not taking this seriously? Because what is a rank war to a real one? But this matters! How are we supposed to help Chika if we're putting ourselves at an even greater dis-advantage?

"I'm sorry Osamu, I really didn't think it was that big of a deal. Only solo points were exchanged and Murakami was going to study my moves any way. At least now I have an idea of how he moves too so-"
"You can't feign ignorance with this one Kuga. Why did you just ignore your side effect? The warnings of everyone around you? It's not like you to be so careless." That was the other element he couldn't wrap his head around. According to Replica, Yuma lost everything because he over-stepped. When he first met him, he was reserved in choosing what actions to follow-through on. Looking back, he only ever interfered to aid Osamu directly or at his explicit request. Kuga never took action carelessly. Did something change? Where did his priorities lie?
"Sorry. I thought I could handle it. I didn't think losing outside of the rank wars mattered."

"I don't care about winning or losing personally. I just never thought- We'll be fine. Let's just talk with our mentors and reassess the situation. I'm sure they have some useful insight on how I can run damage control." He walked out the elevator door. Nothing he could change now. The damage had been done. Kuga's moves were no longer a secret. He was no longer an immovable object capable of defeating anyone or anything set before him. Osamu knew he was being unfair; had always acknowledged that Kuga was a person and all people failed, all people had flaws. But he was the son of a man highly acclaimed by the upper echelons of Border who knew. He had visited dozens upon dozens of planet nations, must have seen a large diversity of fighting styles and tactics implemented in combat. So why was he ignoring the skills he must have developed?

Deep down, he knew the real reason was he was merely frustrated with himself. He was upset that he let Yuma put himself in that postion in the first place; that he hadn't voiced his protest as the other agents tried to do. More than anything, he was severely doubting his abilities to come up with a realistic plan to carry the, forward now that Kuga couldn't serve as the foundation. Kikuchihara had warned him and everything, yet it had felt right to put his faith in Yuma...

Such thoughts carried him all the way back to base. He refused to snap of his friend anymore and instead opted for silence. Kuga complied without question. Per usual.

'I do whatever my captain tells me to.' His cheery declaration from earlier rung once more in hi head. If he ordered him to, would Kuga eliminate Murakami in the upcoming match? Could he?

~

Osamu was able to at least feign a sense of relaxation upon arrival at the base. The feeling melted into something closer to real once Shiori, Konami, Yuma and himself were settled in the living room with some freshly sliced strawberries set between. Everyone else was otherwise occupied it seemed. The two present were quiet willing to take over his own tirade towards the neighbor where he'd left off; upon hearing of his unlikely defeat. Had he not let as much slip, almost as soon as they got back for fear of it festering and a desperate need to ask for strategic advice, would Kuga have shared his defeat with others? Would he have asked for advice?

"You let Murakami? Study you?" Konami could only blink through her disbelief.

"I let my curiosity get the better of me." Yuma popped a strawberry into his mouth; blase as ever.

"But I think it's a good thing. Can't plan a strategy without advance intel. Well I'm going to go start thinking of counters." With that the boy in black was gone. Not even a strawberry for the road. Where was he planning on going to strategize anyway with the basement occupied by Reghi and Chika's training and the neighbor prisoner?

"Hm..." Konami's eyes tracked her study, a slight edge of suspicion. He imagined Yuma wasn't the sort of person to let a lose get him down. Konami was probably worried for nothing.
"We'll have to think of a plan to deal with Suzunari that isn't contingent on Yuma."

"Don't get so busy planning a strategy against Suzunari-1 that you forget about Nasu squad. Captain Nasu is one of Border's best shooters and her team's ace."

"I know. Plus, we don't have the advantage of picking the map; we'll be at Nasu team's mercy when it comes to terrain."

"Based on your strategies and analysis for the previous match, I'd say you don't have too much to worry about in that regard."

"Yeah; I'll take my time looking through the log history and analyzing their map choice. Especially against squads with similar formations."

"Understood. Anything specific you want me to work on captain?" 'I don't think I'll ever get used to being called that.'

"Nothing for now, I'll let you know if I think of anything though."

"Of course, happy to help."

"Oh! There was on other thing actually."

"You name it."

"After our battle against Suzunari and Nasu squads, I was wondering if I could move on base as well? If it's not too much of a bother."

"What? You want to move in here?" Konami seemed almost as shocked as when she heard her pupil lost.

"Well, I heard Yuma moved in not too long ago and I have been spending more nights here than not, especially before a match. I just thought it would make more sense."

"What about school?" Konami cut in, arms crossed.

"Well depending on how we score for finals this semester, Branch Chief Rindo said he'd be willing to give us a Border recommendation for Mikado High School."

"Us?"

"Er- Yuma and I. His grades aren't the greatest but considering he's never been to school or Japan before I'd say he's doing pretty well."

"Whoa, I knew about the Japan part, but not the school part."

"You've been tutoring him alongside making all our strategies and your personal training haven't you?"
"I wouldn't say tutoring. We study together sometimes. Mostly, I'm just checking that he's getting his homework done." 'Now that Replica's gone.'

"Anyways, I better go review the match logs. If you come up with any non-Kuga based strategies, please let me know. I'm going to make counter-measures as always, but they'll have to be terrain based. Maybe if I can deduce the map Nasu squad is most likely to pick..." His words quieted as he departed from the room. They would find a way to win. They had to. For his tutor.

~

The first few days of not having a small floating companion to talk to were difficult to adjust to. Despite only having Replica in his life for a few weeks he had grown quite accustomed to the constant presence. He knew Chika and the other branch member who met him felt the same. To his knowledge only Shiori, Rindo, and Yotaro, who knew of his neighbor status and were there the day he was first recruited. He found himself talking aloud and glancing about in confusion when no voices bounced back. A few days re-adjustment and he was used to living with hos voice alone once more. He had ti admit though; having another to bounce ideas from whenever he so pleased was immensely beneficial, informative and, if he was honest with himself, comforting. Ever since his father left overseas to pursue his dream, Osamu felt dis-connected from society. Not neglected or isolated but un-moored. He felt adrift without his favorite person to talk to. As much as his mother loved and cared for him, she didn't have the same analytical workings he and his father shared. They could talk for hours about architecture, bridges-

"Do you suppose Konami is cooking tonight?" He snapped back to reality to look down at his shorter friend; finger held to his chin in thought.

"Why do you ask?"

"I want to be able to taste her curry again." Something about the way Yuma phrased his thoughts didn't sit right with him. A kick to the bottom of a river bed transformed the water murky. Morphed into a place of danger and sensing the building tension he tried his best ti diffuse.

"I'm sure Konami will gladly set some leftovers aside for you, just ask. Plus, we don't know what she's cooking yet."

"Hm. Sound logical as always captain. Very well."

"Hey, Yuma?"

"Hm?"

"Why wouldn't you be able to try to her curry tonight? Will you not be joining us for dinner?"

"I've got defense duty tonight."

"You've been working a lot of evening shifts lately, don't you get nervous coming back to base by yourself?"

"Not really. Sometimes I worry about getting lost sure, but I've always found my way back. Before dawn too even." Yuma stretched his lips but the smile seemed forced. The boy was quick to sink back into a duck face, eyes always hidden behind eyelids, bangs or angles. 'Of course such a thing wouldn't bother him. Child soldier that he was.' The truth of a stray thought all but sucker punched him. Still...

"You could always call one of us to meet you somewhere." He adjusted his glasses and steeled his expression. His teammates, much like himself, shied away from pity and platitudes. While he may be unable, and unwilling, to lie to his friend, he hoped to avert some of the truth he was feeling. Guilt. But mostly pity. He spoke with his own father six months ago. A tightness around his heart. He clenched down harder on his sweaty palms.

"Call? Even if you were not asleep, how would I go about such a thing?" The boy raised a brow. Osamu furrowed his own.

"With your-" They never circled around to talking about cellphones. All at once the realization hit him. Everything made sense. His constant asking for directions, sudden his increased tardiness, his questions about timepieces... Yuma would have seen them used plenty by now but did he know what they were? Absent of Replica, a communication device was an absolute must. If only in case of emergencies, which the neighbor was incredibly prone to; through little fault of his own... Usually.

"We haven't talked about cell phones yet, have we?" Yuma shook his head side to side and stared up at him with wide eyes. A weight lay behind them. A sort of underlying trust perhaps? Whatever the feeling he was left with the distinct notion that he could tell this boy a phone was a flying purple cow and in this moment he would believe him. How had he garnered so much trust from the neighbor? He couldn't help but grimace as he registered how dejected his tone had sounded already. He shoved his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and pulled out his own phone to tap away at the screen.

"Their core functionality is a communication device but they have since expanded to include many other features. For better or worse, in some parts of the world a phone is becoming somewhat of a necessity and you could even be prohibited from registering for certain things without a phone number to serve as an additional layer of identification."

"Oh? So you talk to people through it?"

"That is the effect produced yeah, but the inside..." he trailed off. Who would want to hear this technological drawl? His mother would tolerate such meanderings on occasion, and Rejhi would sometimes ask questions but-
"Is there anything you can tell me about the inner working Osamu?"

"Er sure, but it can get a little complicated depending on what feature we're discussing." He wanted to hear this? Part of him still held doubt and yet when it came to materializing the unexpected-

"Of course; you always do a wonderful job making things easy to understand." The smile sent his way was wide. Light entered his normally dull gaze and for a second Yuma seemed like he could have been a normal teenager making a confession. Wait, confession? Confessing what? He blinked as his stomach jumped about and sweat dripped down his brow. When he looked again those target red eyes had already been tucked away behind the closed eyelids that came with his duck-face. Osamu took a breath.

"After we win our next match, we'll talk to the Branch Chief Rindo or one of our seniors to help get you a cell phone. It's important that we;re able to get a hold of you in case of an emergency."

"I've gotten by fine so far."

"You shouldn't have to just be fine..."

"Hm... I guess a cellphone could be a useful device. I certainly see plenty of other agents using them so they must be useful. Will you help me learn Osamu?"

"A bit sure, but this will help you learn on your own. You're correct' it's an incredibly useful tool." 'I'm not ready to go over the internet for him.'

"Does that sound like a plan?"

"Of course! Thanks in advance captain!"

'This is the least I can do... After what I've done. And what I'm going to ask you to do...'

~

Tomorrow was the day. Or today, technically, given the current hour. He opted to spend the night at Tamakoma for a variety of reasons; of which he tried counting to fall asleep but ultimately opted for a glass of water from the kitchen instead. The cold did wonders for his headache but little for his nerves unfortunately. From the corner of his eye he caught the rounded edges of the branch's rice cooker. He wanted to laugh and cry at the morose feeling that bloomed within him from the sight of an appliance.

'Replica...'

"You're up late Osamu. Still working on strategies for tomorrow's match?"

"Branch Chief Rindo!" The unexpected appearance of his superior nearly sent all remaining droplets of water from his glass cascading across the countertop. Instead he took a few uneven breaths and focus on the man's words. When was he ever not nervous about the rank wars? Since awakening from his coma, that felt to be all he was doing. This new concern however bubbled up from a different sort of place.

'Take care of Yuma for me.' His last words after saving him and Chika alike by ending the invasion altogether... How could he not feel a sense of debt? Of duty. Of obligation...

"Actually..." 'Would he know? If Jin's mentor died five years ago, Branch Chief Rindo must have helped him through that loss right? So he should have some experience helping people through depressive moments. It wasn't that Yuma had been blatantly sad lately or even worried. He just seemed... Sub-dued somehow. A bit withdrawn. Quicker to quiet down and more hesitant to ask questions. Or maybe he was over thinking things and the tiredness was wearing on him.

"Well to be honest, I was worried about Kuga."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Well... The thing is... He already fought the ace attacker of Suzunari-1, Ko Murakmai once and lost."

"I see. He's currently Border's number four attacker. Pretty strong."

"Yeah. I knew Yuma wasn't invincible I just- I've never seen him lose before. It's so rare that I even see him get hurt that it seems sort of impossible; even now that I've watched it happen the truth of it doesn't quite feel real..."

"He loses to Konami regularly and has no problems admitting when he doesn't know something. No one can be a perfect pillar of strength Osamu.-"

'Jin can. That's why I need to try harder to be just like him. Especially if Kuga is-' Osamu thought while Rindo continued his steady speech.

"-I'm sure he would appreciate whatever you're willing to offer, usually just an ear is enough."

"Kuga's never really opened up to me in that way before. We don't talk about ourselves or the past all that much." 'Only the once; when there was no other choice. Maybe that's why we get along so well...'

"The little I do know about him and his situation was told to me by Replica. It feels unfair that I know such personal details about his past without hearing the story from him direct." That was a conversation he never wanted to have again. The nature of such a conversation meant he really should to hear the recounting from the source.

"Anyway, I haven't seen him much since the match. I wanted to talk to him but he still hasn't come down from the roof yet..."

"Oh? How long has he been up there for?"

"Ah- About since Chika went home..."

"I see, that was a couple hours ago at least. Tell you what; I'll play my part of adult for a change. Go rest up Osamu, Worries from afar won't wash away any wounds, but you still ought to be rested for tomorrow's match."

"Of course, thank you Branch Chief Rindo!"

"No need to be so formal Osamu; especially if you're going to be living here now. Honestly, you and Yuma both."

"Er- You heard about that?"

"Of course. Yotaro and I live on base too, you know, along with Jin, Reiji and now you and Yuma. There's also the prisoner whose staying in one of the old rooms in the basement. Konami and Shiori will stay over some nights as well and have loosely designated rooms they prefer to stay in.

"I see. Must be quite convenient if everyone's staying close." 'Glad I decided to move in sooner rather than later. That should make things easier going forwards.'

"Sleep well. Best of luck in your match tomorrow."

"Of course. Thanks- Boss."

"Better." The man maintained his warm smile as he took his leave. Osamu peeked over his shoulder in time to see him adjust his glasses and drift towards the kitchen. Strange. He trusted Branch Chief Rindo with the task. While part of him wanted to offer his friend comfort, as his teammate he worried such an action would only worsen the situation.

'What even is the situation though? I made us a solid strategy for tomorrow. I'm confident Nasu squad will select either the Exhibition Hall, the Riverside, or the Industrial District for their map of choice. In any case, we're prepared. 'Maybe I'm the one whose nervous since I'm not sure I can rely on Kuga to carry out my orders on this. The only thing I want Yuma to focus on in this upcoming battle is downing Murakami, regardless of points. I doubt he'd want to focus on anything else anyway and he's the only one on the field who has a chance of keeping Murakami in check. Which means everything else is on Chika and I. I'll pull my weight. This time, I'm going to get us a point for sure. We'll win; no matter what.'

~

Chapter Text

(Jin)

~

Jin wasted little time adjusting his hair; Izumi probably knew anyways.

While the C rank booths were the safest space for he and his, rapidly becoming less secret, boyfriend to engage in unsanctioned activities, there also could technically be an audience at any point in time. Despite popular belief around base, while Kei may not be dumb enough to get dragged into a viewable simulation, Ikoma had nearly caught them one too many times over the past few weeks. So they switched to squad room squatting. Teammates of said squad room, who were ready and willing to check the simulation logs, were less than impressed. Understandable but still unfortunate. His side effect could only do so much when half the time Kei was working against him. This was one of traits that endeared him to the man most, it was a tad frustrating when they got interrupted. He only hoped his juniors' match was over by now.

"What you get up to is your business, but we share this space, don't you forget that Kei!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just have Yuiga clean it when he's back."

"And that's why your the captain. Up for a few rounds?"

"Thanks Yu, but I want to watch the train wreck that's about to happen."

"My meddling would never cause a disaster Kei, you should know."

"One man's show is another's tragedy. I know better than anyone how deranged you can get."

"Oh? Sounds like a challenge."

"Please don't; the frozen veggies in my freezer were meant to be eaten you know." Rather than serve as an ice-pack for hits he let land. Well he couldn't harass people for free, that was hardly fair.

"Keep your carrots then. Places to be, people to see. Take care Izumi, Yu."

"See ya."

"I want to play a few rounds with you too next time!" The other Tachikawa squad members offered a respective lazy wave. The metal door slid closed behind them and the pair was off once more.

"If I beat you in a rank war match, will you not follow through with this?"

"What if I told you half of why I'm doing 'this' is for your entertainment?"

"Then I'd insist you stop. Don't stoop to using your side effect with my name in mind. You want a challenge that bad get in the booth."

"And when I win, you let me perform my maneuvers unrestricted."

"Hm... Id' be willing to let you wander; an hour for every point scored. When I win though, I want an hour of your attention from every point I earn."

"Oh? and what have we been doing all day?"

"That was for our mutual pleasure. This-" He snidely slid fingers along the edge of his kogetsu.

"-Would be for mine." If they were not some of the highest profile agents in the damn building Jin would have been on him already. Kei knew it too from the smirk that rounded out his expression.

"Sounds a bit one-sided to me. Borderline boring even." Kei seemed to be losing at his own game as he impatiently pressed into the other's space. Obsidian eyes bore into sky blue.

"Good thing you can't hear the future then."

"As if I need it to predict your moves."

"How about we find out?"

Find out they did. Since he insisted on using scorpions, Jin got a two point lead that he managed to cling to until the bitter end. Somewhat steamed, Kei went to get lunch off-base. He had two hours which were mostly spent wandering base and assessing the futures of agents he saw for risk of invasions or neighbor encounters. Nothing life threatening. Nothing out of the ordinary. While this endeavor was both time-consuming and taxing, the reassurance this ritual provided could never be understated. Advanced intel was an immeasurably powerful tool. He would not repeat past offenses. His allotted 'meddling' time had nearly reached it's end when he remembered the piece he wanted to set up.

He tried to be honest always, far easier to keep track of information if he withheld and revealed it as necessary rather than concocting entire other stories to have to remember. He was honest with Kei earlier that his current objective could increase the amount they both were entertained in the near future. Tamakokma-2 vs Suzunari-1 with Nasu squad there as well. An interesting battle to say the least. Well. Not really. Yuma fighting Ko was incredibly interesting, if a bit predictable in most futures. If Nasu wanted to have any sort of presence in their upcoming bout, they needed some extra help and incentive.

Tracking down Kumagi was easy. Sneaking up on her even more so. The punch felt like coming home. An explosion. A burst of feeling. A throb that would reduce to a dull ache and eventually nothing. In the mean time he tasted iron. How happy he was to have been in his real body for this. Maybe, if he was lucky, it would bruise so he could continue to-

"Sheesh. Not only did you not give the kid a heads up about Murakami, but you also hand out intel on him to Nasu squad? You must really have it out for him."

"Hardly; I just want to make the fight entertaining since you roped us into commentary." Jin wasn't the only one partial to secret maneuvers. Give him a reason and Kei loved a good sneak attack. He had seen Kei's conversation with Mikami before they parted paths days ago. No point playing pretend. The other smirked at being called out.

"Heh he heh. Come on. It'll be fun. How about I slap you around in the rank wars again?"

"I better pass."

"Don't want your juniors to start doubting you?"

"Let them think whatever they want."

"Oh that's unlike you. Just so you know, My Ko is going to cream the shrimp in the real match."

"So confident Mr.Tachikawa. Which one of us has the per-cognition side effect again?"

"Whole lot of good it's doing if you can't see this is having a backlash."

"Not sure what you mean; gotta be more specific."

"Like I said-"

"No, like I said-"

"Please use your inside voices, You're setting a poor example for the C-ranks." Kazama cut in. Just as planned, thankfully.

"Slander. I think Border needs more fine rivalries; like Jin was saying." The pair eyed Kei somewhat skeptically and suspiciously respectively, whilst he stroked his goatee with a smirk.

"Kuga has some skill, from experience obviously. Little surprise given where he's from. But he will never be a match for Murakami. To call them rivals is-"

"What brings you over here Kazama; the more you two gloat the funnier it'll be when my junior pulls out a victory."

"They rely on Kuga to get anything done; tactics will not carry them past B rank. Why are you enabling this?"

"It's important they grow on their own. Besides, I reckon they will all continue to perform far better than you think. Tachikawa isn't far from the mark about rivalries within the ranks."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I heard from Kon you two agreed to do commentary for the upcoming mid-tier B-rank match. Try not to give her too hard a time."

"When would we ever?"

"She's an angel; we'll be just as good."

"Uh-huh. As long as I don't hear anymore rumors about a haunted training booth again." Jin almost choked. Tachikawa merely arched a brow for a second in unabashed confusion. Kazama stared, still thoroughly unimpressed with the alleged elite and number one attacker respectively.

"Reports of moaning-"

"That's enough-" Jin waved.

"Oh ho~ Jealous are we?" Tachikawa, meanwhile, stroked his chin with a smirk.

"Keep it to yourselves, the next time I get complaints about you two traumatizing someone because you couldn't control your libido for two seconds I will be reporting such to Commander Kido."

"As long as it's not Shinoda."

"So three seconds is fine?"

"Don't harass my operator at the next match." Fed up, Kazama took his leave. The fur lining his coat bounced slightly as he withdrew; a muted storm.

"Always a stickler that one."

"Can you blame him?"

"Course not. Someone needs to keep you in line." The pair continued their drift post meet up. He knew the other was on defense duty soon, but as he would be staying at Tamakoma tonight, he opted to stand by his partner; so long as the other allowed. Which meant he really only had the elevator ride up left.

"Seriously Kei, we could have avoided this whole situation."

"The fact that you think it's going to be a 'situation' is telling enough. I know I'm the one who told you that you've already done more than enough for the stray shrimp. As things stand however the distance isn't doing much to hlep anyone; you're just as distracted as before the invasion. you're not accepting your role and moving on one way or the other. You're actively running away. I don't care for cowards."

"Ever since I invited him to Tamakoma I've felt responsible for him."

"Clearly. Yuichi, you aren't responsible for anything other than living with your side effect. Cut yourself a break already or I will drag you into a booth again."

"How is looking at the people I'm avoiding supposed to help me 'move on.'"

'So you admit it's avoidance?"

"You're the one who kept insisting everything is fine, then suddenly it's not. Would you make up your mind already? Not sure what you're expecting here."

"I'm expecting you to be able to watch the kids' match without needing a distraction."

"..." That's what this was then. Kei caught on too quick.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't do it again. Especially when we're using my squad room."

"As long as it's just the match it's fine."

"The ids don't get taken out for ice cream as a 'good job you tried' award?"

"Hard pass and who said they would lose?"

"Now whose the flip flopper? The neighbor has some grit sure, but the rest of the team are paper cut outs at best. They're going up against Ko Murakami? No one needs your side effect to see how that ends."

"Even if I told you you're wrong?"

"Especially then."

"Care to make a bet then?"

"Hm... It has been awhile."

"Since did commentary, we bet barely two hours ago and you lost; blocking out the bad?"

"Longer since we fought in a rank war. I'll take your bet. When Ko murders the shrimp tomorrow, you have to do any one thing I saw. Any thing at all..."

"Alright. Same for you then. When Murakami is defeated by Tamakoma-2 you will do any one thing I declare. Sound like a deal?"

"Absolutely."

~

'Look at Yuma.'

'Look at the boy you abandoned.'

'Look at the kid with the black trigger.'

'Look at the specter of death you let in.'

'Look at the thing that stole your mentor's remains away.'

Voices taunted. He watched his friends and family cry in protest, flail at a funeral, scream out dissent into an empty space. Few futures found Yuma alive and well more than a year from now. Had his time limit shortened when he didn't realize? Was this something he could change? Or something he would need to simply warn others about and learn to live with? The second thought wasn't even an option. Of course he would try. Even if Yuma's arrival had brought a resurgence of his own sufferings. Memories he long thought repressed and a forced parting his person, the one person- no. None of that was true. He gave up Fujin willingly. He always knew this would happen, just hadn't known what it was for. Fujin's inherent value as a black trigger was one of the reasons he fought so vehemently to be it's wielder to begin with.
For as often as he claimed to be an elite, the truth of his inadequacies flitted about his brain tenfold. For every declaration he sang of trust he had cast doubt a hundred times, almost always on himself. Failure wasn't an option however. Not with this. Not since his mentor sacrificed everything. He would defend those intentions to his dying breath.

Maybe Yuma was still too difficult a hurdle for him, but he wasn't the only neighbor who needed a hand with navigating Japan.

Jin stood outside the door of the prisoner's room. Three knocks with his knuckles.

If he couldn't bring himself to help Yuma directly, he would simply stick to the tricks he knew best. Behind the scenes.

From the shadows emerged a scowl. Dis-satisfaction as a baseline. This kid would be fun to mess with once he was sure poison and prodding questions were not the only thing that awaited him in the upstairs world. As soon as those judgemental blue orbs locked onto his face, the scowl twisted into a truly ugly expression; anger, loathing, hatred, pain, sorrow, uncertainty, defiance, certainty, disgust.

Jin smirked. In the face of their prisoner's obvious distaste, he felt a morbid sense of relief. Now these feelings of over-whelming negativity were emotions he could readily deal with. One day, he would find the strength to offer Yuma a hand, in spite of the insistent smiles that broadcast his own deceit. Jin gladly turned away from soft-spoken words to snarls. So long as he was still helping others, what was wrong with a little self-indulgence? He ignored the answer and took the easier path regardless. Yuma would sit on the roof another other night. On paper, this issue was far more pressing. So why did it feel as though he was headed down the wrong path? With hands on his hips, he offered their soon to be new ward a winning smile. Familiar and fake.

"What do you want? Just going to stare at me?"

"I just wanted to check up on you."

"And see why your colleagues have failed in their task to extract the necessary data from me?"

"Depends what you think is necessary. How are things going down here? You getting comfortable? We can always get you more blankets if it's too cold, or some pillows to help you sleep better. I would personally recommend some supplemental material. Do you like reading at all? Never hurts to brush up on your studies."

"Even if I did, there is absolutely no need for me to learn the barbaric chicken scratch you lot presume to call a language. And my sleep is of no concern to you. Given how rudimentary Meeden technology has been up to this point, I'm frankly surprised you blocs even thought to design beds. Though your insistence on sharing them with the enemy does indicate your faculties are just as faulty as I was lead to believe."

"Suit yourself, though it must be getting kind of boring in here. Hm... What about watching some television? Yotaro is always looking for someone to watch the rank wars with. Should I let the Boss know you would have interest in a viewing?" He tried to clamp down on his smirk, but the frustration within the other of being left out the loop in regards to anything, especially 'primitive meeden technology' was hilarious. This guy was way to serious and that truth made it entirely too easy to mess with the surprisingly earnest kid. 'Once he drops his guard, this will be loads of fun.' He saw the boy sparring with Yuma. Jin bit into his cheek and tried to ignore how hollow his minor teasing of the other neighbor suddenly felt.

"While it's true we have some catching up to do in the trion department, we're actually quite advanced when it comes to non-trion reliant technologies. One such machine is called a television. It allows us to watch people, performances or events that are elsewhere or have already happened; quite convenient for information sharing and quick communication. Also plenty of fun of course. Not everything is only about military applications, especially not here."
"I don't want to hear anymore lies from you."

"Suit yourself. Just be open to the possibilities. I know Yotaro is a fan television; never hurts to keep an open-mind." With a wave he was off once more. Normally, when this certain flavor of melancholy clawed away at him Jin preferred to see the stars. That was, however, a domain he largely left to Yuma now. The boy needed the space more and who was he to interrupt? 'A coward. Kei is right. What he needs is company. What I need is to not think of Fujin whenever I see him...'

The boss would invite their new neighbor later. He would refuse until the last minute. Vehement shakes of the head. He wasn't sure what words the Boss would use to ultimately coerce him out, but the warm reception from Yotaro was more than worth the hassle in his opinion. Alongside the intrigue from the Tamakoma-1 members present, this arrangement would be a welcome first step of integrating Hyuse into their branch.

They would be okay. He would make sure of it. As was his job as an elite agent. He sighed. Having withdrawn to the safety of his room fingers found purchase on another rice cracker. He pulled the snack from the bottom of his opened bag. The only other thing he felt were crumbs; visages of a former pleasure now only a phantom. He hoped this would be enough. That the future would cease to shift under him so regularly likely a shark in the water. This had to be enough. He wasn't sure how much he had left within him to look away. Once he started he could never stop; even when almost every pathway led to death. Unavoidable. Inevitable. And present in the lives of his peers far too regularly. Especially those who lost the light in their eyes. Especially those with black triggers. More than anyone, the few who tried to live with both. If he couldn't navigate the best possible pathway, maybe it would be best to start placing some cushions out for the agents that may fall when this foundation slipped.

Yuma had barely been with their branch a month. He had secretly hoped the others wouldn't get too attached. That he could offer the boy some warmth, the kid would smile and then go out with a bang, leaving Border with a fine amount of intel and a new black trigger to boot. He saw a few versions of such a pathway when being asked to kill Yuma back in December. Then he met the boy and that option seemed unlikely. There was an unspoken kindness behind his vacant smile. He had cavities where social niceties and conventional norms should be; in their place were oceans of experiences untold, worlds unseen, truths beyond comprehension. Then he heard the boy speak his mentor's name as a hail mary. Any signs of a future where he watched the kid die became an impossibility in that instant. He refused to let the person meant to be similarly entrusted to his mentor's protection fade away. Yet he could not seem to find the strength to stand beside and support him in his mentor's place the way he clearly needed. No one had yet to fill that void either. Every time he glimpsed the kid's fake smile, the edges of that void within him seemed a bit more chipped, a bit further away. He felt his own confidence dwindle as the gap only widened. There were plenty of people to stretch out hands yet no one who actually followed through since Replica's departure.

Soon someone had to say something or something had to give. Soon was not tomorrow however, or even next week. Someone would step up when push came to shove. A pretty lie for his current ugliness. He took to a fresh bag of rice crackers, ripped it open, and started to stare down the different pathways to get Hyuse on Tamakoma-2.

~

He hardly slept whenever he forced himself to stay at the Tamakoma branch these days. Nothing was going to happen. The manifestation, prevention, and reworking of all sorts of scenarios was at his whim given his side effect. For some things. Others were set in stone, or beyond his control, or ended up influencing things he wanted to remain the same. He hardly recognized himself when he stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He really had to stretch a smile after he switched to his trion body to even start to feel right. This would be a long day.

His hand stretched out to open the door but stopped at the sound of a distant clang. The door to the roof. Was someone going in or out? A quick glance at his phone revealed the time to be a quarter short of six. Who else would- A soft shuffle slid past before quieting once more in retreat. He heard a light click from a door down the hall. Of course. The other, more permanent, insomniac. He knew the boy would spend most nights on the roof in the wake of Replica's departure. Half the day he spent looking with Yuma in the rubble he spent sorting through the various pathways that had sprouted round his small form in the absence of another to rely on. He knew the boy had withdrawn to solitude and silence in the same way smokers knew cigarettes caused cancer; knowing the truth but indulging the present too much to alter paths for a better future. He just kept hoping others would pick up the signs and prevent the train wreck from occurring so he wouldn't have to.

Had his mentor really been indebted to, or at the very least trusted by, Yuma's father enough to be requested to protect him in his absence? Was that even the proper request or merely Rindo's interpretation? What were the exact words Yuma was told in relation to the name who gave Jin everything? What would he do about the neighbor's short term prospects and reclusive-ly destructive tendencies? He couldn't ask a corpse and his connection to his master had been forfeit a month and a half ago- His own choice- Of course his mentor wasn't picky about activation; always believed in sharing. Adamant there was more than one way to do things. Still, since Miwa was among the list of Fujin candidates, maybe his mentor didn't care about protecting neighbors as much as everyone thought. Or maybe, Miwa was more complex than he was being given credit for and he needed to calm himself down. With a sigh Jin committed to letting himself free of the small space this time.

He stocked up on rice cracker bags, sent a text for Kei to see whenever he deigned to roll out of bed; almost certainly in another few hours but the phone's ding would get the overly long process started.

Not two hours before their match, the pair was seated at a small cafe on the edge of the forbidden zone. Jin nursed an excessively heated black coffee while Kei tried to down an overly vibrant caffeinated drink in one go.

"I still can't believe how weird you're being about this, you're the one who enlisted them!"

"I'm about to commentate their match with you; stare at them all for damn near an hour. Let me enjoy my coffee now."

"You're gonna get smacked if you keep coping an attitude like that. Probably by Reiji."

"I am not."

"You're right. Konami is a much more likely candidate. She can always smell when you're up to something too."

"I meant the attitude. You and your snark are the ones-"

"Yuichi. What's the worst that could happen?"

'Yuma could die. Hyuse could kill half their branch. Rajinmaru destroys the city. I fail to live up to master's-'

"You blab about Yuma's origin and get him ousted from the squad." He took a sip from his drink. Loathe as he was to admit, Kei was correct; he was being a bit dramatic.

"Huh?! Now why would I go and do a thing like that?!"

"Not intentionally, but it's a possibility."

"How likely?"

"...It's not impossible."

"Oi! Yuichi!"

"More than three percent."

"Three!?!"

"Okay I get it. I'm not quite there yet though. This approach was your idea. I'll come around to them again soon and you're right, okay? Today probably will help. But don't push me on this. Please."

"I understand. But we are doing commentary on all three teams. So how do you want to play this?"

"If we're asked a question about them direct or something comes up that is blatantly worth mentioning we touch on it and move on. You're always looking for a chance to put Murakami in the spotlight and I've taken the trouble to give Nasu squad a leg up. There should be plenty else to focus on."

"You're really crossing your 't's and dotting your 'i's with this one, aren't ya? If that's what'll help get you out of this funk I'll play along. But Yuichi, I'm setting a week long timer. You don't have to be their best friend, but I'm getting the feeling that the uptick in our time together is to be more of a distraction from your juniors' woes than a desire to spend time with your doting boyfriend. That won't slide with me for very long. Especially when said avoidance is only making your mood more sour than sweet."

"Thank you for your understanding."

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I know you'll make it up to me."

"Oh? What makes you so sure about that? Been training a side effect in secret?"

"Don't have to. You're an open book Yuichi."

"Hardly, I've just gotten you hooked for too long."

"You wish."

"Heh."

"...Hey, Yuichi?"

"Hm."

"I know I don't truly understand. But I do get the feeling whatever you decide to do, for whatever reason, that it will be a decision you can live with."

"...Thanks Kei."

"Whatever, making me get all sappy. Let's get this over with already. I hope you brought enough rice crackers because I will be chewing into the mic as often as humanly possible. That'll show Kon for trying to rope us into this!"

"For all I know, you're the culprit who volunteered us."

"Yu said she was sad to be slotted as announcer since she struggles to find commentators to ask whenever she is assigned. I took pity on her. Since I'm such a nice guy."

"I'm sure, as a gentlemen, you heard she was commentating for Tamakoma-2 and decided to take the chance to torture me."

"Out of endearment, darling."

"You are getting sappy. We definitely need to leave."

The match started shortly thereafter.

Jin saw Chika's trion levels on display. He saw Shiori's skills as little Chika and Four eyes constantly shifted away from the enemies' line of sight, an average showing for her, not that operators were often provided any. He saw Four eyes alter his strategy in real time to adapt to current circumstances on the field. An incredibly level-headed approach. He saw the amount of moves Yuma invested into his fight with Murakami. If there was an A rank level agent with a unique scorpion technique, Yuma put it on display. He sincerely doubted Yuma had ever even seen Kazama or Kitora fight, so the moleclaws, branching blades, and leg blade were all results of parallel thinking. A mildly unsettling notion to say the least for a myriad of reasons. How many hours upon hours had he thought of this? Were these moves meant to beat Murakami specifically? Or had he been planning different techniques to try since he picked up a scorpion blade?

While the breadth of Yuma's scope of understanding and creativity of fundamentals would never not wow him, despite his elite status, he couldn't help but worry. It took him, most high level agents in fact, months to develop those techniques. From the inception of the idea in their heads, to executing it successfully in battle was a long road that required immense training, diligence, and intentional action. Yuma had only been with Border for two months if he was being generous and training with a scorpion for half that time. How much of himself was he dedicating to fighting alone? He had been rather open that his main reason for joining Border initially was to have fun fighting on a team alongside allies. Realistically though... His squad mates wanted to go on the away mission while he was the only one with the required combat skills to even qualify. How much longer could he carry on like this? How long would Tamakoma-2 hold out under the displaced imbalance of responsibilities and unspoken expectations?

Change was inevitable, but what direction would the future follow? A better one, or one of despair? The sun could not shine forever. Even if he could try to shift the clouds with a fan, one day rain would come. He was being morose again. Rain made everything flower after all. Kei would scold him later.

Yuma stood valiantly on the bridge. Despite having survived every team match thus far, a feat few agents could boast going into round four of the rank wars, he rarely showed any sort of celebration. True to his norm he supposed, but the kid's general lack of expression oft made gauging his moods even more challenging. How was he to know whether his promise the boy would experience fun had been delivered when all he ever saw was a seemingly indifferent duck face? Not that his own smiles were any better... Despite the somewhat constant downer he could become, at least the worry Four eyes showed was genuine. He worried just as much as the younger agent, and doubtless Yuma was the same, yet adhered to a strict discipline of keeping such notions tucked away. He was an elite agent; should anyone see him waver seeds of discord and dissent could spread like wildfire on the wind. Yuma was of a similar piece in terms of how well his emotions were masked away but his incentives for such were as yet unclear. He could infer, sure, from the stilted description of marmods being catapulted over stone walls stories high, armored trigger users riding banders to further a siege, a black trigger assassin... The ingenuity skewed towards violence. The lack of reflection in his eyes or infliction in his voice. No twitch to his fingers whilst he stared somewhere neither of them could truly see. All Yuma said was that he should have died. That his father created a black trigger to save him. He continued to fight in his father's place for three more years before the nations reconciled. Then he came to Japan.

Between the lines of his somewhat stilted speech was a truth of bloodshed, stories of death carved into his eyes, nose, very being, as the dying rotted away to the screams of the living; those close to joining their fallen comrades and those years away alike. Jin remembered. Aristera visited him at night sometimes. If he wasn't on edge, if he wasn't in a world tinted blue, if he didn't stare too deeply into futures yet to come and never to be, shadows of death would stretch from his past to his present like fingers.

When the remnants of Border escaped with the Queen trigger and future trion users of the royal bloodline everything else was left behind. The world, quite literally, ended that day. Aristera was no more. Border was her secret child and that was all that was never said. No one spoke of the screams of thousands of citizens. No one mentioned how as their ship quickly departed, the engines were not enough to mute out the sea of songs towards a god none of them knew for mercy, for passage, to be spared. Many had already been killed with chests ripped open and trion glands harvested. The sound of buildings crumbling, those yet to be completed and those who stood against time for centuries alike started to be swallowed up by the void. Only distance departed them from the siren call of all those left to drown in a sea of their own naivety. Three natives trigger users survived the battle. Border's losses were significantly better statistically and they now possessed not one, but two black triggers. The same sort of weapon that slaughtered half of their number and ended that world to begin with. He had never felt a silence so heavy as the journey back to Japan. Not until the wake of the Invasion. If only Kido had listened. But then, he supposed, Border would neither have the size nor neighbor hating reputation to boast.

He suppressed a flinch best he could when Kei's fingers brushed against his at the bottom of the rice cracker bag. Tachikawa glowered at him and quickly withdrew his hand. Right. 'Time and a place Yuichi.' Luckily it was Kei to catch him out and not Mikami. He was on live tv still. He had plenty of time to spiral later. Or better yet figure out how to prevent a repeat performance.

"Let's take a look back over the match. What are your thoughts Tachikawa?"

"I couldn't make the same predictions Azuma could, this stuff isn't really my thing."

"Say something serious please..."

"Serious? You got it." Despite being turned away, Jin couldtn' help but stretch a smile and arch a brow at the sound of the other's smirk.
Of course the conversation continued to circle around the winners, his juniors, Tamakoma-2. He should be elated. Instead he felt-

"Personally, I thought the stars of the west bank were the two members of Nasu squad. Agents Kumagai and Hiura may not have scored any points themselves, but by refusing to run and instead facing down their opponents they were able to buy plenty of valuable time for their ace. Had they bailed out, whoever won on the west bank would have found a way to cross the river sooner and made it far more difficult for captain Nasu to score those three points. They were thinking, with points in mind, like winners. I think this demonstrated great judgement on their part."
"Next, the fight between the aces of Suzunari and Tamakoma. A fight in which agent Murakami held the upper hand throughout." Jin bit back a wince. Sure he was the one who didn't want to overly speak on or about his juniors, in the name of respect for them and recovery for himself he'd excused, but this felt a bit biased on the others' part. Sure Kei's own junior did have an advantage, but he thought Yuma's showing was quite impressive. Not to mention that he, as always with the boy it seemed, overcame ridiculous odds in the moment that mattered. Was Murakami not the same though? Maybe he was the biased one... When neither he nor Kei jumped to speak on what most of the C ranks probably considered the highlight of the match Mikami was quick to carry on with her own commentary. A lead up, of course, but at least it gave the pair direction; a great excuse to explain away in terms the C ranks were allowed to know while they kept their real thoughts to themselves.

"Murakami won, his squad no doubt would have won the match. The probability of that outcome happening was quite high as well, obviously. If you're really looking for a source of blame, it's Murakami himself. He simply lost to and agent he should have been able to defeat easily. Everyone watching could tell he clearly had a significant advantage throughout."

'Easily? Really Kei. And after I let slip that Yuma's blades were just as weighed down as your own prized prodigy's? Even Mikami's comments had come across a bit one-sided. Was Kei deliberately exaggerating his request to make a point or had he really not thought through the implications of his own actions up until now? When the consequences were smacking him, or his juniors, in the face once more. He had foresight. Ever since Aristera, it was rare for him to be blind-sided by an outcome. Yet here he sat.

"Kuruma decided to wait for Murakami because his chance of winning was so high. There's never any certainty in battle yet decisions must still be made. Given that, it's no use to deem their strategy a failure based on one engagement alone. Given how obcious Murakami's advantage was, it was completely reasonable to have faith in his teammate and base their strategy off his reliability and strength." Alright. That was enough jabs for today. He would not refute that statistically speaking Murakami was a better fighter, Yuma would probably outright agree especially since he was down an arm the whole time, but Tachikawa's claims could just as easily be spun in defense of his-

"For those watching at home, Mikami already knew all that. She's just trying to make us seem smart for tv."

"Oi! Now I sound like a jerk, idiot!" The operator poorly masked a giggle whilst the other glared at him. Kei seemed to get the hint however and backed off a bit. He had been neither cruel nor untruthful. But he was being biased and unfair. No mention of Yuma's techniques, tenacity or cleverness, just a blanket statement that Murakami should have done better. he couldn't help but feel a bit put out. He asked for this coldness after all...

"How about the battle on the east bank?"

"This side was much more simple. As far as Nasu was concerned, she could eliminate the members of Tamakoma anytime she wanted. A fact. Mikumo didn't shy away from this truth and adapted his strategy accordingly mid-fight. He's got good decision making when it comes to gauging gaps in skill."

"Meanwhile agent Chika was unable to do much at range given the weather. However the alteration of the arena on captain Mikumo's orders was game-changing. Similarly impressive was the fact she evaded captain Nasu's line of fire the entire battle."

"While Nasu has more combat skills, Mikumo has better strategies and decision-making."

"Captain Nasu serves as the leader and ace of her unit. That's a lot of pressure for one person. Arashiyama squad was in a similar position until they designated Kitora as their ace; then they quickly rose through the ranks. As for their use of meteor by their squad's attackers, with some refinement it could be a formidable and effective weapon."

"What captain Kuruma who managed to score a point?"

"That surprised me. In the past, when Murakami went down, that rest of the squad was quick to follow. This time around though, Kuruma toughed it out til the bitter end. Maybe fighting in the invasion was a good experience for him? If Murakami doesn't have to look after Taichi and Kuruma all the time, Suzunari-1 could become extremely powerful."

"For the two teams who lost this round, due to the nature of the battle they were able to demonstrate their strength and improvement. As for Tamakoma-2 with their four points from this match they've jumped to the upper tier of B rank. Looking forward to see how they fair in their next match. Thanks for the analysis by captain Tachikawa and agent Jin."

"Thank you."

"Thank you." The pair bowed their heads slightly, though what they were truly grateful for was the chance to excuse themselves. That had been more arduous then he thought. He knew he would be all but exhausted once he left the relative refuge of his trion body. They were both quite and full of fake smiles as they departed the room. Luckily it seemed most of the interested A rank agents were viewing in the private sector or their own squad rooms and the C ranks thought hierarchies were real. No one intruded upon their quick departure. Their smiles were fixed in place and silence prevailed until the elevator. Kei cracked first. He had long since run out of rice crackers to help cope. Speaking of- He tapped a different button on the panel to the one Kei prodded when they first entered.

"I owe you for this, don't I?"

"It wouldn't have been that easy for Murakami to beat Yuma. His victory was clearly possible."

"Twenty percent, you said so yourself, not exactly odds I'd bet on."

"What if I told you I already did?"

"I wouldn't be surprised but a bit disappointed. If Kido knew you were planning predictions around odds like that-"

"It's a good thing he'll never find out then, isn't it?"

"Someone's awfully confident." Kei crooned. Jin couldn't help but snort.

"Please; you cannot be mad at me for trusting you."

"I'm not mad, just- you're the one who said not to talk about Tamakoma unless we seriously had to."

"And while I appreciate you trying to respect my wishes and need for space, though had you actually done that, we wouldn't be here to begin with, I did not request you diss my juniors so publicly."

"I said nothing untrue, if you disagreed you could have dissented, or added on at anytime."

"You and Mikami never even said his name, you just called him 'Tamakoma's ace."

"Again-"

"Kei."

"...I don't resent the guy, but you've been off since giving up Fujin. Don't act like it's not true. You may say you're fine with it, but the fact that you don't even want to look at the person you say you did it for after the fact-"

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it?"

"That's not the reason rather. I thought we went over this. I'm just- I feel guilty about making his situation worse. Again. He's already been through too much."

"Okay... So how is ignoring him helping him have fun? Why are you really doing all this Yuichi?" The doors seemed to slide open in slow motion as he resolutely refused to meet Kei's dark gaze, hyper-focused on him.

"Oh, hey Jin! And Tachikawa! Great job on the commentary, that was such an awesome match!" Kei blinked in surprise. The elite took his opening, saluted to his companion as he stepped off the elevator. He heard a 'tsk' behind him as Tachikawa realized he'd used his side effect to escape the argument. They could be equally mad at each other now.

"Hey there Shun. How's it going? Are you busy right now?" The shorter agent frowned slightly as the elevator closed behind him and the number one attacker silently departed. While he seemed confused, he was thankfully called a puppy for many a reason and a poor attention span was certainly one of them."

"I'm not doing anything right now! I don't have defense duty until later; will you spar with me? Just a few rounds? Please Jin?"

"No can do Shun, I'm pretty busy myself. But if you have a bit of time on your hands, it would really help me out if you could do me a favor."

"A favor? For the elite agent Jin? Of course! Whatever you need, consider it done."

"Thanks Shun. Nothing too crazy. I put together a little celebration bag for Nasu squad, they really did great work out their and I owe Kumagai still, a single sock just isn't enough. I left it in the back of one of the solo booths, number 312."

"Where am I supposed to find Nasu squad?"

"They'll be over by the vending machines on that same floor. If you hurry, you might even catch Tamakoma-2."

"Really? I'd love to ask Yuma more about his underwater fight! That was so cool! The current looked strong that must have been really challenging. But the way he morphed his scorpion into a flipper to help him control his movements? Only to stab Murakami with it? In the back no less? Acrobatics on land or in the air is one thing but underwater?! That's incredible! I'm surprised you and Tachikawa didn't have more to say about it honestly. Especially since he copied my pinball; I was saving that for a surprise attack the next time we fought, I can't believe he figured it out first... Was he in a rush too? Tachikawa I mean." Hiding his wince was about all he could do. He rubbed the back of his head with closed eyes and a stretched smile.

"Seems like it. We are the power elite and current number one attacker after all. Places to be and all that. Thanks again for your help Shun."

"Of course, anytime! Have a good rest of your day Jin; hope to see you around soon! Let's have a match next time!" Jin paused, turned back to watch Shun happily bounce down the hall and sighed. 'Ah to be young.' He was hit by a pang. 'I was his age when we lost Aristera. It's not youth, just experience.' Some people were born luckier than others. Not that he cared much for luck. He far preferred to believe in his own skills and those of others. Normally, he would consider sharpening said skills with Tachikawa but they needed some space for now. He would cave and text tonight in all likelihood. Best to take the downtime while he had it he supposed. There was one other tough item on his to do list for today.

The Boss wanted a debrief on their neighbors; new info on the old and an update on the new. He would by lying if he claimed to be disinterested in Hyuse's thoughts on the rank war match. What were his overall impressions? Could he envision himself working alongside them? What had he thought of Four eyes' strategy or Yuma's ingenuity? Perhaps a little encouragement there wouldn't hurt. He couldn't leave everything to Yotaro in that regard. If this was the only part he felt up to playing at the moment, he would do as much to the best of his ability.

~

Chapter Text

~

Tamakoma's rooftop door creaked open. Red eyes shifted to assess the new presence before Yuma could process he had company. His father's training ran deep; even when he was no longer himself. What he saw surprised him, though he made sure not to show as much. Rindo. From each hand smoke billowed up. No, more clear. Steam. What was he-

"Not going to sleep, Yuma?" There was a mug in each hand. Two drinks warm enough to let loose steam. Like when Jin had- Oh. He took a false breath and allowed the man's words to roll over him. Once the reality of his potential actions were weighed he decided the first words to break his silent vigil would not be a lie. A half truth was just as bad. If this really was the same situation, it seemed safe to assume Jin told him the truth from before. The story he shared of himself and his father; per Jin's request.

"Sleep is not something I need with my body the way it is."

"I see." He said though it was a half lie. Huh. Maybe Jin really did keep their story to himself. Whoops. Well he usel-

"Would you like some?" He blinked back in the Boss' direction to the enlarged cup on his periphery's edge. With another forced, false, breath he turned around to dangle his feet over concrete rather than an unseen current in the void of night. Beside him the man took a seat on the ledge. Both faced the door towards sleeping bodies with blood flowing beneath. The only blood by him was that of strangers caked across his hands after years and years of-

"Thank you." He repressed a shiver at the quiet clink that came from his Dad's trigger impacting the ceramic handle of the mug. He masked his unease with a long sip; only after he watched Rindo do the same. Not that poison's presence would matter; he and Rindo drank of different cups, the goal would be simple if desired and poisons would likely be processed out by his trion body. The old man let out a relieved sigh, smacked his lips to presumably magnify the sweet aftertaste of hot chocolate, and began to speak one again.

"I heard you lost a match the other day. Osamu was worried about you. He was concerned you may be upset about it."

"Osamu always worries about others. I am not really upset. Everyone trains hard constantly. I cannot win all the time and fighting strong people is fun. Whoever thought of the rank war matches is smart. I especially like the part where there is no need for the loser to die." His last statement drew a laugh out of the Boss. While he appreciated the attempt at mirth, a lightening of the mood, he caught the edge of unease in the older man's voice. Luckily, he pressed past the feeling.

"Kinuta and I made that."

"Oh. So it was you, Boss?"

"The one who thought of the system however, was your old man. Back when there were less than ten Border members. He would happily talk about it for hours."

His father designed...?!

"Hm... I see..." And he wanted to believe that he did. In truth, he probably only understand about as much as the Boss had when he spoke the same words earlier; which was to say hardly at all. Yet he felt the Boss' smile upon his stunted shoulders and tried not to feel the heaviness of keeping up his own tepid grin. He sipped the hot chocolate once again. Something about his masked action must have let on to the strain however. Had Rindo detected a tell? Was it similar to one his father had in the past? How could he change something he was unaware of? His racing thoughts stilled when the Boss spoke, softer than before but with more authority.

"Have fun Yuma. There is plenty for you to enjoy in life." 'So that was what Jin shared that night...' Yuma always assumed his secrets would be spilled the second they left his lips; a point his father had always been quite clear on. While the man would go out of his way to help just about anyone, he was also the first to preach that a friend of today could be an enemy tomorrow. Based on his seemingly never-ending stream of comrades at the time, he had a hard time believing as much at first. But when it came to his own experiences in the friendship department, he found the words to ring all too true. But Jin had not revealed his secret. Yuma himself had. Indirectly perhaps but if Rindo had not pushed him then his other source of information would likely be utilized: Jin. The man had no reason to keep as much secret now. Even if he went to Jin before hand and begged him not to say anything if asked, what would that change? What reason did the senior agent have to obscure the truth from his superior solely because of the whims of a corpse-kid?

But Jin had kept his secret. The only part of his story Rindo confirmed to have heard was of his motivations, his experiences and desires for staying, empty and conceited as they were; to have fun. The Boss had not lied when he mentioned there were plenty of fun things to do. However, that did not necessarily mean he would get to. Yuma knew better than most how cruel the world could be, how quickly one's life could be flipped into chaos. He took another sip of the hot chocolate in hand.

Such thoughts were impermissible in the presence of another. With the idle swing of his shoes he resolutely stayed fixated on the rooftop scene his body sat in until his mug was cold and empty. Until the Boss took the mug, waved goodbye and departed. Until he was enveloped in an all-encroaching loneliness again.

Curious as he was to delve into the various implications that his own father had designed the rank wars he was currently struggling through, he found it better to spend the time in imitation of the great man's behavior; though when was he ever not? With a deep, false, breath he felt for the familiar presence he kept hidden deep within, alongside the pieces that remained of him he didn't quite hate and a few he could even stand to think about. Most he could not bare to even gesture towards. That was fine. Tonight, the one doing the talking, was the one who would constantly help him review on lonely nights in the past. If Rindo and Jin kept coercing him with warm drinks and guided thoughts then he would take the bait. He had to win for Osamu tomorrow; so he could look him in the eye and maybe, if he was really lucky, get another fist bump. He had to keep proving his usefulness to the Boss; so he could keep being allowed to stay in this safe space with clean rooms and tasty food, with a sky full of stars and free of bombs. He had to think over every possible scorpion technique he could manage. Maybe then the creator of the said trigger would deign to look at him again. No. He couldn't care about any of that. Those attachments could be used against him. Could get him killed. Safer to focus on the lost. That which was already lost could not hurt nearly so much; nor could it be taken again. Or used to taunt him. Much as he yearned for Osamu and Chika's hearts to be healed, to help them with their respective goals, that which is lost may never be returned. Even if you found something in perfect condition, you are different from the person who lost said thing. Often the thing was changed as well. He took another deep, false, breath and imagined Replica.

An involuntary ghost of a smile softened his face as he thought of his former partner. A floating module of light. A monotone voice. A pervasive air. He did not acknowledge the time, place, improbability of their encounter. All this fictional Replica said to start was a mundane 'let us begin.' He could have cried from the force of familiarity. Instead he spoke back with a steady voice, free of vacillations felt by the core of his battered being, on different ways to kill.

~

Tamakoma-2 won against Suzunari-1 and Nasu squad.

There were no fist bumps offered by his teammates.

His captain thanked him. Said his contribution made their jobs a bit easier.

"I do whatever my captain tells me." He smiled and waved. An offering. Nothing. That was okay, to be expected, normal. He wanted more than anything to be normal.

"And we got those survival points you were counting on. Your plan worked great." 'To be expected from you. How can I do better?'

"Yeah..." Osamu stood somewhat dejected. Despondent.

The post-match commentary was switched on. Jin and Tachikawa were clearly well-informed and experienced. They praised Chika's precision and Oamu's quick thinking. His fight with Ko was a fluke. His senior should have one. This engagement was met with only ridicule for the loser. He really wished his body weren't still pretending to be human for how his insides felt after that; wrung out like a shirt sloshed in much and thrown atop a barbed wire fence to dry, only to be yanked about and drenched in tempest winds.

Nothing either agent said was untrue. Not to mention, Murakami had been enrolled with Border and training with their triggers far longer they he had. Combine that experience with his natural talent, unyielding yet flexible demeanor and his sleep learning side effect, it was no small wonder Tachikawa clearly had high hopes for the fighter. He couldn't help but wonder what Jin hoped for him... Selfish as the fleeting thought was; though, understandably, 'not much' sounded like the answer thus far. He wanted to apologize for failing but was even more unwilling to break the tentative peace that had scabbed over their relationship in the gulf of Replica's absence. All he could do was hope the other wasn't blaming himself too much. He himself was starting to be eaten alive at night by the voices of blame that bounced and babbled round his skull when his discipline of defeating fictional fighters falter. He was feeble and flawed but at least in the realm of demise and death something like him could contribute.

As he rapidly came to terms with the reality that post-match celebrations did not always come with physical touch, he found himself in complete and utter yearning. Murakami had been a challenging opponent to overcome, one he would genuinely struggle to beat again in the future. Maybe he could somehow train with him again. The other agents already thought him a fool for sparring with the man once. He won in the battle for points anyway. Others could think whatever they wanted. 'Never show anyone you're full hand Yuma.' His father often said. 'The closer an opponent is to your true strength the more difficult a task this shall be. However you must endure.'

Their team's victory was met with little fanfare. Success was to be expected it seemed; so was the way of things. The question remained if discipline would follow a failure to comply. He somewhat doubted as much but also had yet to see another agent fail. The matter could be ruled either way really. A fall at this juncture would be a long time coming. Chika went home early with Shiori. Osamu drifted onto the balcony off the kitchen for some fresh air. That was thirty minutes ago. He wanted to provide comfort, to ask after his health, to talk through his woes with him. Instead, he watched the man lean against tee railing and hypothesize his current limitations against the enemy's known strengths. A fruitless endeavor. One he himself engaged n regularly so he could not harbor judgement. Not that he ever would. Especially for his captain. There was no way around the truth. No point in denying it. All he could do was offer assistance if he Osamu asked of him. Ordered him. As he used to. What happened to those times? How could he get them back? He watched his captain watch his phone for a few minutes more before he retreated to the stars.

~

On his way down from time beneath echoes of a light-kissed abyss, admittedly veiled by the sun's all-encompassing presence at least a few hours ago, the Boss intercepted his path.

"Another night on the roof, Yuma? You certain you can't get any sleep?"

"Quite. Did you need something?"

"Ah, as a matter of fact I did. I'm on my way to a meeting at Headquarters, would you mind coming with me? As it so happens, Director Kido has requested your help with something."

"Kido wants me?" He stared at the Boss' glasses; all reflections all the time. A fixed smile. Impeccably difficult to read and entirely to easy-going. Definitely his father's influence. Still, Border's leader hated him on principle, what would he want help with? He sincerely wished people what just say what they meant, speak their hearts and ask for help proper. He would happily sacrifice anything if only he knew what parts of himself to hack off for whom. Not that it mattered. not that he was in any position to reuse. Not that he wanted to rattle his golden cage, lest they release the shape he truly took. He pulled all the unease and distrust away from the surface of his shell face.

"Sure."

"Great. The car is already prepared."

"Oh. In a hurry?"

"You could say that."

"Hm." He simply trailed a step or two behind.

Few people knew of his origin, in the broadest of terms in that he was from the other side of the gates, and among them fewer still did not harbor outright resentment for him because of this. Kido only offered a bare bones verbal agreement under the pretense of absolute obedience and exemplary performance on his end and his alone. He hated collars. Tight fit clothes. Uniforms. He despised them. But the best soldiers prefer not a thing and he grew up in stiff clothes with a different emblem every few months. Such was life. What would the neighbor-hating faction want with him? He did not particularly care what became of him or his future. But a promise was made to his captain, one he fully intended to keep. To that end, he would need to stick around a bit longer to secure his team a spot in A rank, on the away mission, beside their loved ones. Failure was not something he tolerated within himself anymore. Not with the serious things.

Only one other neighbor was at Border; a prisoner confined to the basement, a relatively cozy situation for the other considering his status and offenses alike. He was not overly fond of the fifty fifty odds at being a friend or foe the current neighbor residents on meeden were boasting, especially if he was called upon to act as the better half. Thankfully, this was part of his Dad's training too. Make oneself useful and such short-comings are want to be over-looked. Dad's trigger wasn't enough, Replica's expertise was no longer an option. Not that he cared for an instant what the upper echelons of Border really thought of him. He was cordial out of respect for his peers not these strangers in stiff suits with stuffy personalities. 'Everyone deserves a chance to go un-judged Yuma.' His father would persist sometimes. Usually after he got caught fighting. Sometimes when he stopped the fights before bones broke. Usually not. Usually crackles and snaps came from his own bones and no help came at all. He was used to dragging himself up; as was expected. Demanded.
From farther down the hallway he heard Shiori's enthusiastic speech.

"You guys did great yesterday! Tamakoma-2 is officially in the upper bracket of B-rank! That's amazing! The next match won't be for another six days, which means you've got time to train yourselves a bit more slowly. Plus today is a sunday; the day of rest. It's important to take breaks to unwind and relax when we can!"

"Yes!"

"Agreed." Yuma glanced through the door way into the living room as he drifted past. Osamu nodded while Chika clapped quietly. All three paused to pop another round of the sweet snacks in their mouths. 'A day of rest, huh? How long since the last time? How many years without pause...?'

The amicable silence that settled upon the smiling group was shifted by their shuffles in the hall. Rindo carried himself casually but comparatively loudly behind him. Strange. When did he-
"Director Rindo! Are you taking Yuma somewhere?" Osamu called at the sight.

"Yeah, we got called into HQ; Kido wants his help with something." Rindo rubbed the neighbor's hair fondly. Yuma stood stock still. He fought to keep his face neutral, his feelings locked down. People here seemed to have no problem testing the texture of his faded and false hair. Yet the ghost of fingers against his scalp, a subtle reassurance; whether for them or himself, he had missed more than he thought possible. His Dad ruffled his hair sometimes when he asked a question even he deemed odd or after a particularly grueling mission or to get him to listen.

The fingers left. His dad was ashes in the wind of another planet. He heard the floorboards creak to his left as Rindo walked away. With a blink and a false breath he looked up at saw his captain. Simplistic was his smile yet so blatantly himself. He turned that sunshine smile back and pulled him forwards with the slightest wave of his hand.

"Let's go."

"Yeah." Following the footsteps of Osamu was far easier than those of Rindo. Their strides for one thing; while Rindo walked slow he had a longer step. Such trivialities never impeded him or his work in the past, just an irrelevant preference, an observation, something to adjust to. Osamu's strides by contrast were relatively short. It was easy to be almost by his side. He scarcely thought to think about breath in the presence of his captain. Neither did the temperature of the air outside until he saw a shiver catch Osamu off guard. He almost reached out a hand but pulled back at the last second. No one appreciated being fussed over. This was silly of him.

Yuma failed to fight the urge to open the car door on his captain's behalf however and prepare to crawl over the seats into the vehicle first. Both stilled when the saw the space already occupied.

Legs crossed, cheek rested upon his fist, hood up to veil calculatingly cold eyes. The electro-magnetic trigger user from Aftrokrator. He had enhanced trion receptors under his hood which meant no need for any other sort of translator. At once reassuring and worrisome.
With a duck face plastered on he scooched into the vehicle, careful not to touch or impede the current occupant without crowding into his captain at all. Much as he may want to. A sort of giddiness sprinkled throughout his chest as he thought about tucking himself away into Osamu's side, to latch onto his arm fully for a moment, nuzzle his whole face into his shoulder, just smell a body, smile against his skin. Would Osamu get embarrassed? Would he blush? Better when there wasn't an audience. He killed the dream quickly and efficiently. Neutral face. Eyes closed. Not touching anyone. He was a bit nonplussed by his current position, by the stark reminder of his lack of growth compared with his peers, yet at least the remains of his body could serve as a defensive barrier between his captain and this potential enemy. While the conversion of such criminal was commonplace on the other side as well as strategically sound, he dared not voice as much within the car. He did not know much of this world, but he was convinced it would not be normal to present such a proposition for their current predicament. Not that he would ever admit there was a 'problem' with their team. Besides being a failure himself, he did not want Osamu to bear any form of blame for a decline in performance, perceived or otherwise.

"We invited Hyuse to watch the match with us yesterday. You and Osamu seem to think quite similarly. Hyuse here also thought of the strategy to cause a flood. You guys are awfully clever."

"Hm." Yuma hummed at the prospect of another thinking like Osamu. A comparison to his captain's strategy to counter a particular engagement was hardly enough to draw parallels. 'Though I am a bit biased about this one...' Osamu seemed surprised as he openly blinked at the prisoner who glared back.

"Do not compare me with this amateur. My timing and deployment would have been completely different. To be lumped in with a rookie like him is offensive."

"This prisoner's got quite the attitude." 'People who know their value are some of the trickiest to deal with in terms of managing their needs. According to Dad however, post conversion of reformation, they will oft serve the best. He was quite curious to see the modicum of 'convert your greatest enemy to become our strongest ally' himself. He was still just struggling with the ally part in general though. His current situation felt more fun than fighting ever had in the past, but he still could not remove the feeling that he was doing something inherently wrong from his core sense of self.

He was certain if prompted and willing Hyuse could list out all the intricate mythologies painted for their people to pace a pathway for their inherent control. A legendary trigger. An artifact of the gods. A token of the dead. In the Neighborhood, the price to even be considered a candidate for a black trigger wielder was high and widely known. There was a reason most rookie soldiers were orphans in their early teens; aside from biological and trion reasons of course.

A distant part of his mind vaguely wondered after the story behind the old man's black trigger. A sword discussed by a cane. A devilish smirk disguised by a smile. At the time, he didn't want Jin to be forced to face such a thing. Experienced swordsman that he no doubt was, and with a powerful side effect to boot. But he knew better than most that sometimes a gap in experience was truly insurmountable. If one of them were to fall , better the black trigger that had no other user.

Yuma blinked.

Miwa wielded Fujin in the invasion. At the assembly, after his first match with Midorikawa, Jin loudly proclaimed he was no longer an S rank. Ar the time Yuma had been struggling to simmer down and snuff out the remaining embers of his rage at Midorikawa's deliberately public embarrassment of his beloved captain.

This person seemed loyal to a fault. There was no point in flying around fantasies. Not to mention how terse he seemed to be in his dismissal of just about everyone else around him. How to carry onward when a shell was all that remains? He felt for Hyuse, having been abandoned, but were he to empathize with the hearts of all he encountered he would have died a decade ago. How Osamu carried on would forever allude him. An endless source of goodness to admire. A pillar of flame in an endless night.

The rest of the ride remained awkward and somewhat tense. Rindo reigned indifference while the prisoner glared out the window. Osamu pretended to do the same but was obviously sneaking peeks at the other neighbor. An ugly shadow of a feeling stirred up deep within his core. 'Don't be petty Yuma. You have nothing here.' He forced a slow breath, no different from those who passed prior. Intentionally so. 'No use getting jealous, kid. You'd need to have had and lost to long in the first place. We need not beyond our needs. We want not which we cannot protect. Can you keep anything safe, Yuma? As you are?' His father's words echoed off the walls within his shell.

Firm as Hyuse, the prisoner not an ally, was the upper echelons of Border were just as firm. The shortest man to the right of their commanding officer was loud an abrasive as he squinted down on those from the other side.

"Valuable as you may be for information, we have no problems using whatever means necessary to extract said data: sleep deprivation, starvation, torture, whatever means necessary. You neighbors don't have any rights on this side; our laws don't apply to the likes of you." The cruelty was cut off somewhat by the plumes of smoke that swayed out when he spoke of a rougher treatment on the horizon. Yet a half truth stood stagnant for the last sentence. Were they truly not considered human in this space? Just because they avoided cruelty does not mean they were ever to be afforded kindness. Since when was he the one being lumped together with the prisoner? Was he not an agent? Had he and Replica not done everything they possible could in the attack? Had Kido not made a promise? Was it possible the man knew, not just of his father's side effect, but a way around it?

"You're always too harsh Kinuta. I have question for Yuma. How are prisoners typically treated in the Neighborhood?" Shinoda turned towards him unexpectedly. Besides Kido who had a tendency to glare at him whenever they shared a space together, especially his eyes, most of the others tended to try and avoid him it seemed. Yet hear Shinoda sat calling him out by first name, without a title no less. He paused for a second to relish the familiarity of it. First names were all anyone needed on the other side. Japan meanwhile was all about honorifics and last names and formalities and it was as exhausting as it was distancing. He could not contain such nostalgia for long as the sharp side-eye he got form Hyuse drew him back to the present.

'Guess that secret is out. He couldn't help but notice the presence of an additional agent. Two of the higher ups from last time were gone and in their place was the disinterested looking guy with shoulder length hair he saw hanging around Kazama the first day he went to HQ. He seemed un-surprised by the blatant insinuation that he was from, or at the very least had experience with, the other side. 'How many people know? Who are they all? How am I supposed to manage this potential situation if I don't even know who all knows where I come from? There is no problem, they do not actually know. All they know is I hail from beyond the gates. That is all they need to hate me. No point in fanning the flames.

"Well..." Japan seemed such a peaceful place. While torture had been tossed out earlier, this world seemed to hold no space for such activities. He would never doubt or deny the cruelty of humans, however the corrupt nature of others had remained largely allusive to him often on this side; since he began following Osamu's rules regarding assimilation. Best to be honest though.

"Torture is used by people on others at times... The thing is, when you torture someone for information, they will enter a state of duress and start trying to tell their interrogator anything to end the ordeal. Thus, the only way to verify such information would be to torture and interrogate a large swath of people and cross-reference the commonalities of their answers. If only one person at a time is being violently interrogated them it is typically for emotional reasons. Such actions could be justified if they killed a great number of people you were allied with. No one likes to lose loved ones after all." The man who proposed torture, though he may have been lying, fell utterly silent. Yuma himself stared down towards the tables' edge. What a moment to hover in.

"So you are inferring information extracted via an intense interrogation is likely to be untrue? With you here however, that concern is no longer relevant though is it?"

"..." Osamu's attention had clearly been piques. He caught the move. Part of him was frustrated by his captain's perception while the rest was relieved. Yuma however determinedly kept his neutral face fixed in place.

"Was that the reason you called me here?"

"At ease, agent. I called you in to confirm." His side effect was never triggered. Kido kept his words vague. Confirm what exactly? He should have broached the topic more with Replica after Kido claimed to have promised his safety. He fought of a sense of dread that bubbled up and gnawed away at him from the inside out. He hardly dared to blink while Kido pinned him down. Since he entered he felt the commander's eyes on him. Like a practiced bidder in dog fighting assessing a new bread-earning mutt. He knew himself to be something other than human, but to see that truth reflected in the eyes of another stung more than he remembered. If Japan made him soft there would be no hope for his remains.

The rest of the meeting was brief. They were clearly rolling through a list of soft approaches to see if the prisoner would yield in any capacity. The commander and chief was quick to recognize Hyuse's obstinance for what it was and draw the questions to a close.

"We'll end here for today. Director Rindo, you are dismissed. Feel free to return him to your branch."

"Understood."

"Agent Kuga will go with Chief Kinuta. You are to lend us a hand." Kido glared down at the boy while Rindo rounded the table with wave. He strolled placidly after the prisoner.

"I'll come pick you up later. Go help Kinuta; behave and do whatever he says." An unyielding numbness had settled within his chest like an ice cube blocking the flow of water from a bottle. He felt used in a way but was left winded as to the how and why. He drew pause in a moment of thought. If only to make the ever glaring Kido unnerved. A moment of hesitation, a reaction to prove his realness, he would take what he could get at the moment. Much as he loathed people, he still wanted others to feel as though he was dependable rather than expendable.

"Hm... Okay."

"Follow me you little freak." It stung. The name-calling always stung, especially from adults. He never let his body betray a crack of discomfort. To show weakness was to provide the enemy with an advantage, 'Never share your pain.' His father once said. Advice endlessly helpful in a battle.

"My name is Yuma. Yuma Kuga." He followed the man into the hallway.

He was surprised to hear footsteps behind him. The agent once with Kazama at the training grounds at the C rank orientation and his captain trailed behind. He resolved to let them think as they please, they would do as much anyway regardless.

"It was surprising to see Kido stand down so fast. Given the potential value of the information held by the prisoner, it seemed likely Kido would make more unreasonable demands." He lightly prodded Kinuta after a few minutes of resolutely trying to ignore the two agents talking about him quite literally behind his back.

"Hmph! If it was up to me we would've torn that guy to pieces already. Thanks to four eyes leaking info to the press, there isn't much we can do at the moment. So instead I made a deal with Director Rindo. He lends us your truth-discerning side effect and we leave jurisdiction of the prisoner solely in the hands of Tamakoma branch."

"Oh...?"

Air failed to flow through him. 'Rindo had...? But he said he wanted to repay the debt to Dad... Why would he?'

'He made a deal. Rindo traded my side effect for the other neighbor. I know he was adept at combat, but I doubt border will provide sanctions for his trigger usage; what role do they need him to play? 'Why didn't Rindo tell me? I would have said yes, what happens to me is irrelevant, what they have me do if it means staying with Osamu- Staying in Japan, I don't care. But why not tell me? I would have said 'yes' so why keep it a secret? Why go behind my back? Why force me to take care of myself-' Ah. This was his fault. He falsely believed he was being protected. That they cared. Rindo comforted him just the other night. Did he care? No, he had openly said Osamu's worry sent him not thoughts of his own. A set up for this moment. A preemptive balm to ease the burn. He hadn't even seen the blow coming until after the sting, after the blood already started to drip. This was the way in which Rindo took after his father. He did not speak with the man overly much, the Boss was busy he supposed, but Yugo Kuga left his mark on all he encountered, he was that sort of man. The ability to blind side, to alter situations, to see the value in the mundane and the transactional in the inherent.

'I wonder what was worth Dad's side effect? And my trust...' He berated himself internally. A tidal wave of justified deceit. Only a moron would drop their guard after a fifteen minute conversation and a warm drink. He should have sen this coming. One of the only things he knew about their branch chief was that he trained under his father for a time, much like himself. That should have been all the information he required to piece together the fact that this man could not be trusted. No one could be trusted. He could count on one hand the number of times his father's teachings had failed them. One was in Japan at large, true, but this was a military organization. those were his preferred playgrounds. He would just have to stay extra diligent. No more dropping his guard. Rindo may have broken through once but never again. He hadn't even said anything revelatory. Only that the rank wars system and ladder had been designed by his father. At the time it eye-opening. A common thread. A potential to connect with present people and a pathway to connections passed converged in a meaning moment of camaraderie beneath the stars. Now, all he felt was a hollowness and the sense he was thrown a consolation prize without ever really knowing what game he had participated in.

His trick of niceties would only work once. Though, he supposed bitterly, that Rindo only needed it to work the once. Upper management had successfully been able to confirm his side effect. They all knew now. This part of himself was no longer private. He hated staring people down this way. If he searched for smoke long enough breathing became a chore though luckily he was only playing pretend in this body, so he need not be overly concerned. Appearances were easy to maintain as long as expectations were broadcast.

The rooms he were lead through almost seemed like a lab, though order was far more present here than in most of the places that boasted laboratory functions. There were plenty of miscellaneous metal parts lying about, groups of people poking things, and walls of machines that littered the space every which way. He took everything in silently, eyes wide. What sort of research did they do here? Where was the engineering department? How often were they working on new triggers? New potential applications for trion? Did they have any contest for the the rankings of the engineers? How else would they test and tune triggers? Who handled such at Tamakoma? The man he followed stepped over cables with practiced ease and pulled away form the bustle into a set of back rooms. A glass wall dominated a section will a larger round man sat slouched by a set of screens. Border's HQ logo glowed faintly from the screens.

"I've brought in Kuga. Wake that thing up."

"Understood." From the other side of the glass, a trion soldier connected to the wall began to whir to life. The movements caught his captain's eye and spurred his worry into tangible uncertainty.

"What is that? A black rad?"

"Injecting trion." The man by the machines muttered. From beyond the indoor window a voice called whiny and sharp, loud and un-yeildly.

"Finally here? You Meeden monkeys are so slow, even when I offer whatever you wish to know~ ... Oi, are you hearing me?!"

"Yeah, yeah, just give us a minute. So impatient..." The man and the trion machine bickered at each other. Familiarity seemed to be worming towards companionship where the two before him was concerned for him.

"What is that?" Osamu seemed uncertain but refused to back away from the sight before him. Pride started to take shape within his chest only to die to the cold freeze that came with other agent's words.

"That is what's left of the black trigger user who attacked HQ during the recent invasion."

'If I die, go to Japan. At the bridge called Border you will meet a man named Soichi Mogami. Go to him. He's bound to be one to the best rigger users they've got!'

'Mister Mogami was your father's rival and Jin's mentor. He died five years ago making this black trigger.'

'They couldn't be brought back. They died. They turned into black trigger's. Even with all the trion technology the world over they cannot be turned back. Why? Where was the smoke? Why would they lie?

"Earlier you said the black trigger user died due to internal dispute?" He refused to blink, to blanch, to look away. Was there a chance...? Could Dad come back-

"The guy is definitely dead. We transferred the horns, which act as trion receptors and collect data on the user, from his body onto that of a rad. Since his horns were rooted so deeply in his brain, among the data collected by them was his personality, memories, consciousness if you will."

"A back up of the trigger users personality was implanted into a rad?" His captain seemed lost for words. Yuma was uncertain how he felt about the implications. To be apple to see his father would be-

Yet at the same time, there were no trion receptors, no affects of his, nothing but dust in the wind. Swept away what felt to be eons again. Nothing to try and heal.

"Oh. So that is the reason you were willing to give up Hyuse. Is he more willing to talk then?"

"That's the problem actually. This guy is a bit too willing actually. It's suspicious that someone in his position would be so willing to cooperate with the enemy, especially one who is actively holding them hostage. Which is why you've been brought in. Use that ability of yours to tell us whether or not this thing is telling the truth. 'A side effect that can see through lies' is what was described to me. I don't really know the extents of it's accuracy though.

"I could tell that earlier, you had not intention of torturing the prisoner." He spoke soundly through his duck-face. He felt the eyes of the man he was meant to obey try to slice through his skin. He was far from the first to try and certainly wouldn't be the last. None had ever succeeded in understanding him.

"Okay, I understand my role. Begin the interrogation anytime."

~

Said interrogation proceeded smoothly over all. Seems Kido wasn't the only one who preferred to keep things brief. The luxury of safety's illusion. He hoped Border never had to wake up in that way. Thought he recent invasion may have done the trick.

'We may be through with you for today, but you will be called back in to assist with future interrogations. Be prepared.'

'Okay. I am free most nights if you need help then.'

With any luck, perhaps he could find a new way to pass the time. He somehow doubted as much. Most people were not even awake and aware during the colorless hours of night let alone working. Yet a secret part of him couldn't not wonder. After their dismissal, the other agents seemed a bit withdrawn. Neither seemed fully comfortable being around him. Was it because of his side effect? the reminder, of his origin from the other side, or the crueler reminder that he was closer to the scarps of trion fused to a reclaimed soldier than either of the people before him. Maybe they were still trapped on the earlier conversation he had tried to tune out.

'Same story in your last match, huh?'

Rare was his discomfort, but between the other's quietness, his own dis-ease, and the worm that began to wonder why the other agent had trailed them and been present for both meetings? The most logical conclusion was he also had a side effect able to somewhat accurately discern intentions. What was it? What were the draw backs?

"Looks as though some solid information can be collected now. Given such, the away mission may be sent out sooner than expected." The odds seemed fifty fifty, but he felt like floating in false hopes while he sipped the straw of the drink Osamu had treated them all too. Steam wafted up from the others coffee whilst Kikuchihara, as Osamu had softly said to him while they were waiting in line for said drinks, similarly sipped his drink via straw.

"The earliest the expedition force will be selected is the first half of the rank wars season."

"Then we need to score even more points in the next match. Oh. Tokieda and Suwa squad." Not once since they left the Research and Development department had he set aside his duck face demeanor. Little could be done to assuage the part of him which still trembled at the prospect of a black trigger user being revived. Why go to such lengths? Why that one? This wasn't fair? Instead of festering, he tuned out the words behind him.

"Your ace sure seems confident. What about yourself?" His captain would find a way through. He wanted this too, so he had to. Battle prowess was a necessity to survive life on the other side. He knew better than most. Yet still no one listened. Was it his child face? Or himself?
He bounced over to the familiar faces. Suwa slowed his stride once he was him dart over. One of his squad mates, the chameleon using attacker, and Tokieda from Arashiyama squad accompanied him. The group was as boisterous as he remembered. A perfect distraction. All he could do was laugh as Suwa scrubbed his hands through the dead locks on his head. He felt impossibly lighter. Almost un-grounded. The fingers felt warm, firm and solid where often he felt only the wind and stillness. For the first time in almost twenty minutes he felt brave enough to crack his eyes open and soak up the words being walloped around by his seniors. After another moment or two Tokieda cut in, talking in soft tones around his straw.

"Do Mikumo and Kikuchihara get along well?"

"Hm...? Who knows?" The last thing Yuma intended to do was project false relationships; Tokieda would need to ask wither party direct if he wanted a truthful answer. He glanced over at his captain who straightened his jacket after bowing toward the shrinking back of the other agent they were with. He wished he had a better idea who Osamu thought of as friends, who he thought of has more, that sort of thing. Maybe he would never be the later but he hoped to be among the former. Worry wafted over him. He pushed it aside with a simple wave to the trio of agents and a bounce back to his captain's side. Osamu rarely called after him. He was never really invited along places. Yet he would persist in returning to his captain's side until the day he forbade as much. Only if Osmau explicitly turned him away, told him his services were no longer required would he even consider trying to not be by his side. A place that felt warm and familiar. A comfort. A reassurance. A tickle against the inside of his skull and the facsimile of his chest that begot nostalgia. He would do anything to keep this. Anything to stay close. Anything to be with Osamu.

~

"Welcome back you two! Good work Yuma!" Shiori's eyes were hidden, but the soft pressure against the top of his head was unmistakable as she gently traced circles to tussle his hair. Whether or not he deserved to feel such closeness thrice in one day was something no one could really answer for him. 'Only you can decide.' Nor could he accurately gauge himself. This was one of many questions he wished to parse and talk over with his guardian, friend, former partner. How long since he last saw Replica? Heard his voice? Felt the presence of something else fake in the shadows of dawn when his eyes itched and he felt the most like the trion monster he had become. Instead of unraveling under the weight of a human touch, he provided a duck face and thumbs up. The Border trigger was another barrier between his instinct to tremble and lean into the warmth and his true frozen stature. And twenty days was his answer. Already, only, 20 days since Replica... Departed. 1642 days since Dad died.

"I made friends with Kinuta. Probably." From the corner of his squint-y gaze he caught Osamu's soft smile. He forced out a breath as he fought to keep neutrality fixed on his features as always. That fleeting look was the same a a freshly unfurled flower. Petals impossibly delicate and susceptible to the slightest sway in the breeze. Such a smile should be documented. As soon as he thought such, the look vanished. Shiori reminded him of a message meant to be passed along. The feeling of her hand fleeting as his father's embrace was. How long since-
"By the way, we have a guest over. He asked to see you and Chika, Osamu. He's waiting with her in the other room now; luckily he only got here a few minutes ago." He followed after his captain into the room Shiori indicated.

"Osamu." Chika called out from her seat. He saw sweat collect on the brow of his captain who parsed the situation steadily.

"I'm Ninomiya, of Ninomiya squad. Don't just stand there Mikumo. Take a seat. I'll keep this brief."

Ninomiya wanted to come across as shrewd but only demonstrated desperation and an ego-befitting an A rank officer. Funnily enough, Reiji later confirmed that he was a former A rank member, demoted as punishment for his squad-mate's breach of code. Interesting. Being in the same room as him at the time had been uncomfortable to say the least. Between his height and general lack of knowledge he was used to being dismissed. When looking for input, few people turned to the most childlike among their number even if only in appearances. Ninomiya, it seemed was no different; however to be actively ignored was a bit... He had only requested Osamu and Chika's presence after all. As soon as Replica went out of his comfort zone to introduce himself to Osamu, he made it a point to try and carry the other's burdens; to help him where he could. To keep him alive. As such, if someone wanted an audience with Osamu, unless he was expressly told to leave, he would consider such his business.

"If the brother of Chika is a 'collaborator' what do you intend to do?" Yuma asked, arms crossed and eyes wide for signs or deception. The man finally looked his way. Barely a glance spared while he sipped teh tea Shiori must have provided earlier. A dismissal if he'd ever sen one. His words wandered towards an answer and acknowledgment regardless.

"...There's not much I can do. At this point, too much time has passed to arrest him."

His squad-mates on the couch sat stiff, as though the guy across from them would wield any sort of weight to their futures. They easily allowed him to command the flow of conversation. And command he did. He wanted to be upset but Osamu had dove in head first, seemingly eager to lap up any and all pieces of information that may pertain to this missing person. To Chika's brother. To Osamu's tutor. He somehow seemed extra vigilante at the prospect of the missing. An added layer of excitement that got him to sit up straighter, speak louder, be more bold in his responses. Where was this energy coming from? This hidden current within Osamu? This confidence? He loved the look on the boy; er- No. He thought a more confident Osamu was... Dashing- er- Free from worry Osamu was... Very appealing? Easy to follow. Yes. Osamu was a natural born leader and when he was confident, concise with his words and in his element there were few who could conduct such attention so gracefully.

Only when Chika ratted out her own response was his momentum in demanding their cooperation stalled. As did his own thought process.

"If you're looking for a mastermind, it almost certainly is my brother." 'She sold out her brother? Why? I thought they cared deeply for each other? Does she not want to get him back? What is this?'

"Oh? And what makes you so sure?"

"Because I know that's the kind of thing he's capable of."

"I'm afraid conjecture like that doesn't mean much."

"I could prove it. Partially at least. Before he disappeared, Rinji showed me a map of Mikado City with three different isolated locations of potential gate points. If what we're saying is true, surely one of those points would match the site where Hatohara and her collaborators disappeared from."

"Hm... That would be a start I suppose. I am grateful for the info. Sorry to bother you." The squad leader was quick to scoop up his photo to return to his coat while he stood and spoke. He turned away from the two without so much as a glance. At the signs of his abrupt departure, Osamu similarly stood. He was far less composed though, having been all but blind-sided as to the nature of their discussion until it had already come to a close. Seems his captain had a fair amount to learn still about battles off the field and how to negotiate with the enemy. Luckily, Osamu had time.

"Realistically, the only chance you'll ever have of looking for Rinji Amatori is to have that guy join an A rank team and compete in the expedition exam with everybody else." Chestnut eyes did not deign to look his way, rather an accusatory thumb was thrust in his general direction. A cursory glance spared as his combat capabilities were begrudgingly addressed. How dare he simply dismiss his teammates. Between Chika's trion levels and Osamu's strategy, they were well on their way. All upwards momentum. Even now however he stood up for his friend's desires with a far calmer demeanor than he had presented mere moments ago.

"If we're selected to join the expedition team, will you tell us what you know about Rinji then?"

"...Ask again if you're chosen." Neither agreement nor acquiescence. Yuma thought it wise not to expect much from him in the ways of intel, even if he was one of their few leads. His eyes followed after the man as he saw himself out. He found himself rather un-impresesd by the other squad leader. Little rubbed him the wrong way more than people without respect for their allies. If you could not trust those who fought alongside you to have your back in a fight- 'then you get a situation like Calveria.' He would never let Chika or Osamu, anyone ant Tamaokama and preferable Border, have to deal with such a scenario. He would sooner die.

A bit of his frustrations trickled out over dinner. Reiji was kind enough to provide context regardless. A gateway for Osamu into the inner-workings of their next opponent. He hoped the other would use such information in their next fight, though Yuma got the feeling his friend was still struggling to process the conversation in general. He tried to suggest that they would be fine with or without the intel; to further foster Chika's optimism. A goal was something that could carry one on. He was glad his teammates had one.
Rather than acknowledge their encouragement, after the meal Osamu briefly disappeared with his phone onto the balcony. A quickly becoming favorite spot of their captain's. As such, he lingered longer in the living room than he normally would otherwise. He helped Reiji clean teh dishes than waved him and Chika off as she was getting a ride home that night. Eventually, his friend returned with a weary smile to head home himself. Yuma trailed after.

"Oh, before I go. Would you mind helping me move in to the branch tomorrow, Kuga? I don't have too much stuff but I don't want to cluster up the hallways for too long and bother other agents when-"

"Of course!" They both blinked in surprise at Yuma's forth-rightness and volume alike. His captain was often flustered, but never interrupted, by him. He felt as though his face would be aflame were he still bone and blood bodied.

"Anything to help our captain." Yuma refused to fidget but he also refused to open his eyes. He wasn't sure he could bare to see certain emotions cross the other's face as a result of his outburst. Why did his self-control feel so flippant in regards to his captain? This seemed dangerous...

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I already arranged a ride with Reiji to get the boxes after school tomorrow."

"Would you like me to walk you home?"

Osamu paused in the doorway. 'Too forward. How do I be more subtle, er gentle maybe, with this? What is 'this' anyway?'

"You're always so insistent that Chika be walked home safe and sound, but we all know she could out run you in a pinch. Let us go." Yuma slipped hid shoes on while he spoke. Steady, false breaths un-impeded. He smiled as he bounced past his captain. He couldn't make eye contact, not yet. Nor did he dare risk looking his way. But such actions were normal for him in the past right? When he was new to this world. he couldn't shake the feeling of moonlight beneath his skin, a sight of Osamu bathed beneath the sea of stars this sky cradled each evening. Would lights of other worlds get caught in his grassy eyes? What wild places did his mind take him while he reflected stars? Something deep within Yuma yearned to know. Like an itch. This was just him satisfying his curiosity. A whim. Nothing more. He could not take, hope for, crave more. He was already being entirely, inexcusably selfish. He could crumble away at any second. Every minute he spent with people he claimed to care about, he was exposing them to a potentially horrible future. This somehow made him want to spend more time with those people and curl up somewhere to be un-burdensome for whatever was left. Maybe he had spent too much time thinking about why Jin continued to remain everywhere he wasn't. Having to see corpses constantly was far from pleasant. He knew more than most. The smell was what often got to him. People could whine about wanting reduced pain settings all they want but the truly baneful experience was the stench after a mass grave was cremated. Or the rot that set in when no resources could be wasted on such a rite. He took a breath. The air smelled ever so slightly like fish in certain spots because of the river. At the moment, the whispers of dinner drifted over. A warm weight reclaimed his consciousness a little as he came back to his body a bit.

~

School was boring and borderline frustrating as ever. An endless reminder that neither was he normal nor likely to appropriately fit in any time soon. Since Osamu's status as a Border agent, and his own enlistment, became common knowledge across school far less people bothered either of them. A fact he would be more grateful for if fighting were not one of the few ways he understood as a means of expression. In this peaceful place of placating smiles and infinite half- truths, he found himself more and more prone to falter and fall silent. A default to Osamu's whims and wills. Something his father would have found inexcusably, an irredeemably stupid action. 'There is little in this world you have control over, Yuma. Yourself, your won decision-making, is one of those things. Protect this right no matter what. Even if you fail. Even if it feels like you only ever make mistakes; as long as you are the one to choose such an action I will approve.' Dad deemed such a lesson essential enough to embed the sentence deep with Remplica's core. 'Only you can decide, Yuma.' Except his mistakes were fatal and said guardian openly encouraged him to follow after the other's advice?

He dragged his feet back to the base Osamu told him to wait at after school. Most of the other agents were too busy to aid with the move, but he and Shiori tidied up one of the rooms she supposedly got approval to use. A fair bit larger than the guest room his duffel bag sat in though currently home to much more dust. That wouldn't do at all, he could already imagine Osamu sneezing up a storm. The pair worked quietly as they cleaned the room out. Soon enough the other pair returned and reality narrowed to the back and forth pacing between Osamu's new room and the box filled car.

After his fourth trip of following Osamu down the halls, definitely not while admiring the healthy sheen to his captain's hair; a soft fort of look compared to the dull mounds his own scalp produced before he became what he was, Yuma noticed a nameplate on the door. He chided himself for not noticing earlier, though was mildly reassured that his friend did a similar double take after he heard a pause in the droning footfalls that followed him prior.
The name plate on the door said KIDO. As in the Neighbor-hating leader of Border. The one who not only knew of Dad's side effect but it's loop holes with omission. But that made no sense. Not the slightest drop of truth. Maybe his reading skills truly were that bad. Replica always chided him for not paying more attention... Dad would have-

"Why does the door have commander Kido's name on it?" Osamu called back down from reality somewhere far above his head. He continued his awkward shuffle fully into the room so the two boxes in hand might be dumped on the ground with a modicum on intention rather than topple as a few cardboard containers earlier had. He quickly followed suit though with far less difficulty with the weight, bulkiness was his biggest obstacle.
"Oh, that." Shiori glanced at said door as she shimmied in with her own load of boxes.

"Afraid I don't know."

"You don't?"

"I've only been with Tamakoma branch for a year and a half now and while I'm relatively experienced as a Border agent, as far as these things go, I still haven't been around near so long as most of the other Tamakoma branch members. You'd have to ask one of them."
"Any suggestions as to who?"

"Torimaru transferred around the same time as I did, so he wouldn't know. Jin's been pretty busy lately, same with the boss... So out of everyone here, I suppose Konami or Reiji would be your best bet."
"What do you mean 'out of everyone here?'

"Oh, has no one mentioned? A few or our agents are currently away on a business trip recruiting people from other prefectures with a few squads from HQ. Namely, Katagiri and Kusakabe squads."
"Kusakabe is Midorikawa's team right?" Osamu seemed somewhat surprised.

"You've got it." He had always hated gossip. Rumors spread naturally, his father always assured; just another means to gather intel, a channel of information. By distributing the rights pieces of information, you could track the spread of secrets almost in real time. Yet another skill he was versed in and loathed. He did not particularly care to hear others' thoughts for people he perceived as friends. There was little room left for that.

"Was that the last of the boxes Osamu?"

"I think so- Er. There might be another load or two. Actually, where's Chika? It depends how much she grabbed."

Seemingly summoned the brunette popped up around the corner, a pile of bags towered up in her arms. Osamu stepped around him quickly to alleviate her load. Shiori similarly slipped past him so she may talk closer to her line of sight.

"Oh, Chika, I think Reiji wanted to see you downstairs for a minute." Smoke billowed from the mouth of their operator. He frowned at the lie, un-used to such a sight from the typically boisterously helpful operator. He opened his mouth to call out to Chika, to clear the air, dis-spell the smoke before it could suffocate anyone or lead them astray. Sure, people lied all the time, especially Tamaokma-2 though almost exclusively for fun thankfully, but such rarely transpired from his teammates thus far, a fact he was ever thankful for. He oculd not stand the feeling of ash that built up within his throat, pricked his eyes, made him want to wretch and wheeze rather than sit in the filth of others' deceit. He was trained to be still, silent. Mom never complained about anything, what right did he-

"Yuma? Let's set these down by the desk okay?" His captain awkwardly shuffled past. When the box finally freed itself from his arms with a dull thud he nearly collapsed upon it. He set the parasol from his own arms down a bit more gently. His eyes lingered on the smoke that still wafted from the earlier lie in the hall. Heavy and pervasive. Lies could carry as much weight as the truth at times, which was why they could be difficult for an untrained eye or ear to distinguish. Of all the fleeting wishes he ever regretted making, the one to understand his father's side effect took top spot on the list.

"Alright you two~" Shiori closed the door behind her before she propped up her glasses with a gleam.

"Time to strategize."

"Huh?" Osamu groaned from the floor. Yuma shifted down to a squat so he could keep his friend within his periphery. Was he dehydrated? This may have been too much physical labor for him all at once, he was still new to training regularly after all. Was he sore?
"But you sent Chika away, we really shouldn't plan without the whole team here."'

"Silly, that's because we're planning what we're going to do for her birthday tomorrow!"

"Ah!"

"Osamu?" His captain lurched upright in a slightly wobbly flurry of limbs. He whipped out his phone and frantically scanned the screen; Shiori nodded her head sagely from behind, her own phone clutched in her hand. Unsure what else to do, Yuma pulled out his own phone.
After returning to the base a few days ago, Osamu spoke with Konami about his lack of a communication device; she was quick to storm the building. An pile of old phones found themselves flung from cluttered drawers. Yotaro thought the game to be quite exhilarating.

Reiji and Rindo were a bit nonplussed to return to the base covered in dusty technology, half of which had cracked screens from Konami and Yotaro's rough-handling of them. Raijinmaru may have stepped on a few. She really was heavier than she looked. After the first twenty minutes Osmau got too stressed out and excused himself to go study so he escaped the scolding Rindo was quick to issue one of his top agents and his ward respectfully whilst Reiji cleaned the obvious messes with a broom. Yuma himself had largely hung back awkwardly. Despite being the alleged instigator for the sudden whirlwind of strange behavior, there was little to be done without a proper understanding. The sort of thing he seemed to perpetually lack in this foreign world his father came from.

Rindo had sat down with him a few weeks ago, not long after he officially enrolled with Border, to discuss finances with him. The conversation contained little that interested him; he largely zoned out and trusted Replica would fill him in on anything important... How short-sighted he was. His father constantly reminded him too; 'you must think ahead Yuma; only dimwits stare at their toes when the whole world lies before you. I told you to stand straighter.'

Once the strange squares were returned to their miscellaneous places, Rindo had driven him out to one of the local markets. A building full of far brighter and better conditioned pieces of technology. Despite the Boss' prompting for him to pick whatever he wanted from the rows of flashing colors, he found himself frozen and overwhelmed. He couldn't possibly make an informed decision without all of the necessary data. He missed the murmurs of Replica, the constant source of inquire. A silent excuse to satiate his own curiosity. Companionship. He missed Replica so much the numbness that was getting him by had started to sting again. A compounded pain. Repulsive in it's familiarity settled into his non bones.

'The cheapest communication device will be more than enough.' He eventually got out without having looked around much. He was amongst the company of civilians. Trying to blend into a foreign land was all he knew really. The current one just happened to be called Japan. it was coincidence this was the place his father was from. That shouldn't mean anything. It was irrelevant to his current mission. A non factor. If hes Dad wanted him to experience this life he would have brought him here himself. He was only told to come here as a rendezvous point for the man meant to continue his training. He was dead. And so was he. All of them. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead-

"You're right, it really is tomorrow. I completely forgot..." He failed to understand what about the devices was able to indicate it would soon be another year since Chika's birth. Was this another hidden feature? The device seemed to have plenty of those with little indication on how to find them.

"I almost forgot too, things have been busy lately! This will be the first birthday we get to celebrate as a team! And it's for our sweet Chika! We should do something really special! Does she prefer cake or cupcakes? We could always do cookies too, although I doubt we'd have enough time to prepare them."

"You're right, we should stick to store bought this time around."

"Erm?" Yuma slipped his phone back in his pocket, uncertain what to do other than dart his gaze between the two as they engaged in a sort of rapid fire brainstorming session. He would engage in such silliness constantly with Replica. He hadn't even attempted as much with a person since Dad. It sounded more fun than remembered. If only he could grasp the shape or idea they were fixated on. Actually a withdrawal behind a duck face was seeming more appropriate; this appeared to be another commonality he was not privy to.

"Cupcakes it is! I'll pick some out on the way over tomorrow. Should I get decorations too?"

"Hm... Well as much as I'd love to go all out, we do still need to prepare for the upcoming match... Decorating would take a lot of time to prep and clean up; not that Chika isn't worth it, of course she is, just she might prefer to spend that time doing other things. Besides, what if she already has plans?"

"And what if she doesn't?" Osamu tensed slightly in thought. Suddenly a laser beam gaze shielded by a glasses' gleam was blasted on Yuma.

"What do you think?"

"Training sounds more fun than decorating."

"You can't train for your birthday silly; it's supposed to be something fun."

"But training is fun." He couldn't help the slight pout that pulled him downwards. Beyond his shoulder Osamu chuckled. The soft rumble of sound knocked something loose within the chest he had not realized was close to trembling. He pretended to inhale, to be okay, and turn ed towards their captain.

"What do you like to do for your birthday Osamu?" 'Understanding is a fundamental of comprising counter strategies and deconstructing your enemy's mentality. Of you are ever uncertain of something ask. Even no answer at all could reveal all you need to know.' His father was always close at hand; a flick of his thumb across his black and white ring.

"Well, normally my Mom and I would take whatever weekend my birthday fell closest to, or on ,and drive to a famous bridge somewhere in Japan. We've been to all sorts of weird places doing that, though only for a day or two, just passing through. Last year though, my former tutor and I went out to this Italian restaurant." Osamu's mind drifted down and out to a far away land. The memory had pulled something within him loose, with it an unfiltered sorting of pink hues pranced across his cheeks. He was left speechless when the other's lips parted slightly as he bowed into a past only he could experience. What a wonderful moment it must have been...

"Then let's go on a trip ourselves! I know the other agents are busy, so we won't be able to get a ride that day."

"Since you're already going to the trouble to pick up cupcakes, I'll come up with an activity she might enjoy."

"Sounds like a plan! I'll drag Chika over at five pm sharp. You both better be ready with presents! I need to get going; best of luck unpacking Osamu."

"Thanks... Ah! And thank you very much for your help! And the reminder about tomorrow!"

"An operator's job never ends. See you tomorrow boys!"

"Thanks again, Shiori! See you tomorrow!" He waved lightly through a duck-face while his captain smiled and bowed at her back.

"Thanks for your help too Kuga. You don't have to stick around if you don't want to. I'd like to get this space a little sorted before dinner."

"I would be happy to help! I also wanted to ask you something..."

"We'll go get Chika's birthday presents before or after dinner, depending on how much I can unpack."

"I have your back captain. Where should we start?" Rather than acknowledge him, Osamu turned to assess the room. Yuma reveled in the assumed trust. If only this could stay true for a little longer. This place of playing between secrets was exhausting yet all the more forgiving than his inner truth. He would bat away his feelings for as long as needed to stay beside his friend. No matter what.

~

Chapter Text

~

Osamu stood on Tamakoma's balcony. With elbows perched on the railing, he leaned into his personal sense of defeat and the ever altered reflections in the river below. Always raging in the background. A constant reminder of all his inadequacies. Why Jin, in all his gentle knowing illuminating laughter, a confident smile, a ship in the night, gravitated towards the roof with a raging river view remained beyond him. Whispers had been heard from Reiji that Jin took to the roof at times when he felt down. 'Most residential, or senior, Tamakoma agents do. We used to have this tradition back when more people lived on base; whenever someone felt upset or unsure, lonely or listless, sometimes just to see the stars, we would spend time on the roof. If you were feeling lonely or looking for company, or just worried for whoever else may be feeling the same on a particular day, you made two warm drinks, though we almost always stuck to hot chocolate, and took them to the roof. A trade for conversation or at the very least company. Sometimes that's enough. Sometimes it could really help someone along. I haven't done it in years. If you ever get the urge though, I hear our roof traffic has picked up again these past few months.' He wasn't really aspiring towards any of the things on Reiji's list nor did he want to risk company so much as take a moment for himself. A reprieve. Yet his mind refused to still; a truth he really should have come to terms with by now but caught him off-guard every time he was forced to quietly confront the darkened corners of his mind. If he ever had to spend more than an hour alone with his thoughts, surely he would go insane. He did not doubt most people would. Sleep served as an essential break for innumerable reasons, thankfully. He was looking forward to a long night curled beneath his soon to be old sheets. He would be more excited were he not actively procrastinating packing.

His mind snagged onto the events of the day's earlier match. Sure Tamakoma-2 was able to secure another victory today, but only just. They had a one point lead contingent on the survival points. Not a viable strategy to reliable going forwards. Not to mention he failed to earn a single one of those points himself.

Nasu had presented herself on a silver platter. She was wounded, distracted, low on trion. He felt as though there was all the time in the world. His victory felt sure. He wished desperately to have secured said point. Instead he was shot, felled, taunted. Per usual. He understood that strength was a skill one sharpened and honed, not something a person donned overnight. Yet the way Kuga carried himself, sometimes, made it seem as though strength was just a skin you could wear. Such a sight made his aspirations for change feel more attainable. Jin's back wasn't the only part of him he wanted to look at after all. In the Rinji shaped hole that opened up in his life months ago, Jin had almost instantly flooded the cracks. Someone who saved others, a guiding light, an inspiration, something to strive towards, safety, clarity. A chance for change. Even for someone like him.

Yet when the moment of truth came he was frozen, unable to act, reliant on others to be saved, carried up the ranks. Sure Kuga was who everyone expected to get points, who they relied on, and who made their endeavor feasible in the first place, but he wanted desperately for people to see his own potential too. Or for him to have potential at all really... He needed to be more than just someone who could occasionally come up with an unconventional idea. He wanted to be consistent. Relied upon. Strong. He needed to prove to Jin that he was worth inviting, worth putting a word in for, worth giving up his mentor's black trigger...

Osamu called Karasuma to ask for additional training and tips as a shooter, yet the action felt a stop gap at best. Despite their next opponents being announced, he felt little incentive to research. Despite the relative effectiveness of said strategy so far, everyone else was right. They would hit a wall if only Kuga could secure points. He could never put that pressure on Chika... But to leave all the heavy lifting in the ring to Kuga didn't feel fair either. He simmered in uncertainty for awhile before eventually drifting back inside.

Despite the relatively early hour, and the fact that they spent most of the morning and commute between bases together, he was somewhat surprised Kuga insisted on accompanying him. At least it was easier to keep him corralled at night with fewer civilians about. Still, his mother did not keep secret her distaste for the boy and while he truly valued Yuma as a friend, having to constantly defend him against his usually supportive mother was a bit tiring. But as he listened to the boy's somewhat lilted speech as he tried to sort out 'why cross walks look that way' Osamu he swore would defend him at every possible opportunity.

He always seemed confident and quick to offer a potential solution or answer. Discussing hypotheticals with him was generally rewarding and made him an invaluable resource when it came to strategies; which was why he tended to avoid talking about as much with the neighbor. If he asked Kuga for an answer every time he was unsure, then the other boy would end up writing all their strategies himself. He would position himself as truly obsolete and Kuga really would become the backbone of their team.

However, his confidence had gone and returned in wisps and wavers as of late. While his own was steadily growing, in a few areas at least, Yuma seemed a bit more listless on occasion now. A sort of softness would come to cradle his usually blunt tone and sharp gaze. The way his eyes suddenly shone was dazzling in a blinding, dizzying sort of way; the sensation of being unable to pry your gaze form a car crash, even as the road before you continues to demand your attention. Visceral. Red. Kuga was entirely too intense yet somehow felt like he had little more presence than a teddy bear all at the same time. Osamu chose to mostly listen until they got to his street; at which point he insisted the neighbor return to base. If anything, as captain and the person who agreed to help instruct him on how to assimilate to Japan, the should be responsible for walking the other home. However there was a fair bit of packing left to be done and he refused to spend all night wandering the city in the name of gentleman's mask. Osamu waved the shorter boy away as he returned home.

He felt his heart flutter in wonder as thought struck him suddenly; how being walked home by Jin would feel. Such a dream swept him forwards in such a daze he nearly wished he wasn't to move tomorrow yet spurred him to pack ever quicker. Despite the fact he would soon be closer to the man who taunted his dreams, a piece of him now yearned for the scene he coveted of a larger hand pulling him onward. A step behind the elite's stride. How his reflection could be caught in the lens of his sunglasses as they journeyed beneath street light after street light. He imagined laughter while all he had heard that night Yuma's monotone drone that occasionally wobbled into something almost expressive; like a play at fragility. Kuga was too strong to crack. Would Jin ever feel comfortable enough with him to share his woes? If it weren't for Kuga, would he have ever learned any of the truths behind the elite's black trigger? Or the man himself for that matter. All he wanted was to run his fingers between chestnut locks and call forth question after question. To be calmly coaxed into lying down... To be wrapped safe in long arms. Such a future felt far away. He hoped his steps of change would continue to shrink the distance between goals and reality. Futures of fantasy couldn't come quick enough.

~

Moving onto base felt like a long time coming. He hadn't been enrolled in Border very long, and with Tamakoma even less, yet the space felt right to him in a way. Perhaps it was the people he was drawn too.

Being praised by Jin's rival was nice and all yet he couldn't help crave affections from the man himself. Jin was allusive to say the least. Despite being members of the same small branch he had hardly seen heads or tails of the man since the invasion. He heard from his mother direct that Jin had not only been there for him at the hospital but had been immensely remorseful, yet little transpired between then and now.

With a sigh he hefted up another box. He never realized how much stuff he had until he was trying to only pack 'the bare minimum'. Ever thankful was he that Reiji had been off-duty and willing to drive and help him pick everything up. By the time he returned the man had to excuse himself but assured him the rest of the night could be taken to unload the car if needed. Shiori greeted them with her patented frog grin and news that a room had been mostly cleaned out and prepared for him. He bowed in thanks of the pair before starting the work of convoy carrying his boxes up to their new home.

At his house last night, his mother had taken the time to prepare one of his favorite meals. He was eternally grateful, and let her know as much. Even still, he wishes to have left on better terms with more decisive feelings conveyed. She was normally better about speaking her mind. Not that he had any room to talk.

His conversation with Ninomiya left him in a daze. Left him with thoughts of Rinji and fingertips grazing upon one another on their way to grab an eraser and the smell of dusty books and his smile and- the longing within him was strong, but abated by the slew of questions he had never quite been brave enough to confront before. If all Rinji had done was gone missing, why was Border involved and not the police?

He felt resolve boil up within him. No longer would he be a person who waits. Not this time. The way of the world, and the ones who were in it, could change at any moment. If he held feelings within his heart, and he sure felt the truth of such, then he would express them sooner rather than later. Tomorrow, perhaps? He couldn't keep his feelings contained much longer.

Down the halls Yuma trailed after him either as a quiet presence in his shadow or a steady watcher of his back with his own boxes in hand. Unlike him however, Kuga didn't have to contend with sweat and fatigue.

Osamu slowed in the doorway to his new bedroom, so as better to adjust the grip on the admittedly over-packed cardboard box he was carrying. Half way through re-adjusting he caught sight of a detail that had alluded his notice up til now.

'Why does the door have commander Kido's name on it?' He wondered before the weight of the box pulled him to proceed. His teammate had little trouble setting the boxes down while he slouched over top a box tower. From the corner of his eye he caught Shiroi drift through the doorway.

"Hey Shiori, would you happen to know why the commander's name is on the door?"

She paused to glance at the word before her own boxes were carried over to join the stack.

"Oh, that. Afraid I don't know." At least he wasn't the only one confused.

"You don't?"

"I've only been with Tamakoma branch for a year and a half myself and while I'm relatively experienced as a Border agent, as far as these things go, I still haven't been around near so long as most of the other Tamakoma branch members. You'd have to ask one of them." Shirori said. she was able to provide a list of others who may know but the truth ultimately would not impact their goals.

"Was that the last of the boxes Osamu?"

"I think so- Wait. There might be another load or two. Actually, where's Chika? It depends how much she grabbed." With a mild moan he forced himself up and back into the hall in search of his last teammate. He had only gotten a few steps before he caught sight of her.

As she emerged from around the corner, he pushed back on the feeling that said he had done enough and started to grab bags from her arms. There was not much left then. Shiori popped out from the open doorway behind him to the left.

"Oh, Chika, I think Reiji wanted to see you downstairs for a minute." Both he and the younger girl blinked awkwardly. That didn't sound right... His eyes darted to Kuga who poked his head out the door after them. black pupils. An odd thing to lie about. Shiori simply adjusted her glasses with a grin and helped herself to the rest of the items within Chika's arms.

"O-okay... Well, I'll go down at talk with him then. Will you need more help later?"

"No, you've done more than enough as is, plus I know you wanted to get some training in; thank you for your help."

"Of course! Make sure to take breaks between now and dinner!" She waved the pair away and disappeared back down the hall to the stairs. Osamu laughed nervously at the reminder, he had every intention of getting everything he could ready between know and then without pause; how had she known? He followed his long-haired friend back to his new room where all at once she whirled around to face him.

"Alright you two~" Shiori closed the door behind her before she propped up her glasses with a gleam.

"Time to strategize."

"Huh? But you sent Chika away, we really shouldn't plan without the whole team here."

"Silly, that's because we're planning what we're going to do for her birthday tomorrow!"

"Ah!"

"Osamu?" Kuga came across as concerned. Which he was given the sudden truth laid before them.

"You're right, it really is tomorrow. I completely forgot..."

"I almost forgot too, things have been busy lately!" He and Shiori bounced ideas on details back and forth, unable to settle on much.

"-Besides, what if she already has plans?"

"And what if she doesn't?" Osamu tensed slightly in thought. No. Rinji's sister- His friend deserved more than that. Shiori wheeled on Kuga, who had yet to comment much and he had a dreadfully sinking feeling as to why, all at once.

"What do you think?"

"Training sounds more fun than decorating."
"You can't train for your birthday silly; it's supposed to be something fun."
"But training is fun. What do you like to do for your birthday Osamu?"
"Well, normally my Mom and I would take whatever weekend my birthday fell closest to or on and drive to a famous bridge somewhere in Japan. We've been to all sorts of weird places doing that, though only for a day or two, just passing through. Last year though, my former tutor and I went out to this Italian restaurant..."

'Rinji, what's all this?'

'Someone finally cared enough to study for his history exam; it's important to reward good behavior.'

'This is too much though-'

'Is it? Maybe this isn't enough. A bit under-dressed for your own birthday dinner aren't you?' He had laughed as his cheeks felt ready to burst, burning like asphalt in the midst of summer.

'I'm kidding, look at me right? We're not going anywhere too fancy.'

'Thank you for your consideration, how much of a deal do I get for dinner?'

'Much as I'd love to simply treat you, someone's grades in english have slipped.' He jested and held open the door to an overly bright evening.

'Surely not everything is about results?'

'No. Not everything...'

"Oh, how fun! I know Torimaru works part-time at an Italian restaurant for one of his part-time jobs. Maybe it's the same one? All of us going out to dinner could be a nice treat."

"That would be something..." He struggled to rid himself of Rinji's smile. He may not have the other man by his side, but neither was he alone. Tamakoma-2 could carry him through these feelings. Would Jin come? And perhaps on to better places. He tried to shepherd his mind towards such. Thoughts of Jin in his heart and thoughts of the future in his head.

"I sort of doubt Chika would want Italian though, we're better off with something a bit more traditional."

"Oh. So a white rice dinner party?"

"...Please tell me you're joking Yuma?" Shiori smiled but there was a definite strain. His face felt little different than how hers looked. At least someone else was here to experience the oddity that was their neighbor ace and provide potential back up.

"Why? You suggested a meal based celebration and Chika said white rice is her favorite."

"Listen! We cannot support those poor dietary habits of hers! Your spontaneous hunger strikes are no better mister; that sort of behavior could stunt your growth even more you know! No more food-based decisions from you." Shiori huffed with hands on her hips. He was at once reminded of a mountain and his mother. Kuga, meanwhile, looked motionless and winded. He felt a pang in his own chest. This must be a sensitive subject for him and he'd only been trying to help... In his own way. On the other hand, he saw and empathized greatly with Shiori's protectiveness towards Chika. This uncharacteristically snappish behavior was coming from a motherly sort of place. He couldn't hide the grimace as the target of her concerns were mis-directed. He saw the moment Kuga caught his face before he could smooth his expression over. The boy took a step back head bowed; only to wave with a duck face.

"Just tell me where to be and what to bring then, to this, birthday party for Chika."

"Will do. I don't doubt I'll see you both before tomorrow, but I'll text you the details just in case. I need to get going; I told my parents I'd babysit this evening but if I head out now I can pick up some treats for tomorrow."

"Thank you very much. I'll let you know if I think of anything else."

"Sounds like a plan, see you both soon!" She set out with a wave. He returned the gesture yet found his gaze back on his friend. The one who had not returned from his withdrawal since the sudden, un-inteded. attack. Should he say something? He had witnessed the neighbor stand up to all kinds confrontations constantly and without issue since they met, so why was he seeming so reserved in quiet spaces?

"Would you like help in grabbing the rest from the car, Osamu?"

"Ah, sure yeah, that would be appreciated" was all he offered in the end; rather, he opted to trace after the boy back through the base to the garage. They worked quietly until the car was empty and everything fit, albeit snugly, into his new room. At which point, he was simply too tired to carry on, throat ablaze, he stumbled into the kitchen. Kuga remained un-fatigued, un-phased, breath like a metronome. He collapsed on the couch; eyes closed to relish in the softness and the release of tension from his achy muscles. After what felt like hours after a nap but was likely only a few minutes, Yuma's quiet voice carried him out of his resting place.

"There is a glass of cold water on the table for you." He smiled at his small friend. The surface was frigid; condensation seeped into him and soothed his nerves and still slightly heated skin alike. The substance itself was a balm for his throat. He hadn't realized how parched he had become until he took a break. With a sigh he sunk back into the cushions, eyes drifted shut.

"Here, would you like another?" Part of him deeply appreciated the gesture while another wanted simply to sink silently into the sofa. The softness of the tone kept him from strongly voicing his own sentiments in either direction. Instead he conceded and didn't resist when the glass vanished from his hand. What felt to be not a second later the soft words picked up again like a woodpecker taking breaks in it's assault against a tree.

"Your glass is full on the table; if you would like more water."

"Thanks."

"Are you tired?"

"Sort of, we've had a really long day so far. I just want to close my eyes for a bit."

"...Okay."

He wasn't sure how long they sat still. His sense of time eroded as his thoughts spun and twisted into realities less and less likely. Jin's confident smile as he sauntered past. Jin pressed against him and plush cushions making the overly sized chair feel entirely too small. Jin's fingertips brushing against his whilst he was being served water. Jin massaging the soreness from his soldiers while he told him tales of their possible futures together, all the ways the two of them could walk hand in hand unimpeded. He wanted a world where the distance between them would close. This time, he was prepared to take the role of catalyst.

All at once he blinked and straightened up. Kuga sat stock still, right hand clasped tightly round his left, though his expression was neutral, his shoulders had a tension about them which reminded him of the boy's early days in Japan. Never a great sign. Before he could ponder what had woken him, he sub-consciously followed Kuga's line of sight to the doorway.

A pair joined them in the living room. Chika seemed utterly distraught while her mentor was withdrawn; close to her physically with a guiding hand on her shoulder but eyes a mile away. He drifted into the kitchen and pulled out the kettle while their teammate fell onto a nearby sofa.

"Chika, is everything okay?"

"Sorry... We were training..."

"Chika has something she needs to share with you both; as her teammates." Prompted by her mentor's gentle, but insistent tone, the girl before them grew tense. The same way he would when he thought of not being in time. Of running when the moment of truth came for him. Of failing when it mattered most.

"What is it Chika?" He forced himself to relax as he slid into a seat across from her. She fidgeted in place for nearly a full minute. Time stretched on tense. Then, all at once in a quiet huff, she spoke.

"I can't shoot people." At first it felt as though nothing had changed, as though she were stressed about getting wet in a storm. Which was still true however the nature of the rain was only just starting to sink in to him. She refused to part her gaze from the floor.

"You can't shoot people?" He felt a nervous sweat begin to form even as he remained outwardly calm so as not to further upset his already worked up friend. She appeared more pale than usual, lips in a paper thin line while she failed to fend of a tremble from forming in her shoulders. How could he help her? But as their captain...

"But it's so easy..." Kuga spoke; not quite callous but detached; clearly confused and confounded by subtlety and tact alike.

"Yuma, Osamu, Usami, and I all see how hard you train every day. There is nothing to feel bad about. Not being able to shoot people is the normal, healthy, way to be." Yuma looked as though he'd been sucker punched. 'Wait Kuga did?' Chika let out a soft whimper amidst her fidgeting that recaptured his attention. By the time he thought to glance back at his white haired friend a placid look had returned to his features. Must have been projection; trick of the light. Chika was the one who needed him now.
Reiji was firm in his intersection of this notion. He set the tray of warmed tea and sweets down softly while he spoke in a tone of steel.

"Just give yourself some time. If you still want to carry on as a fighter just get yourself used to the idea gradually."

Osamu traced her face with his gaze; a fruitless search for insight into what may have caused such a disconnect within her. No, such a disturbance was inevitable. He always knew that Chika, the sweet little sister of Rinji, was not meant for combat. Why had they let Kuga convince them otherwise? He could only mask her inability to fire for so long. Not scoring points was one thing, there was an obvious variance in skill across the team from the jump after all, however to be clearly skilled and improving while still not garnering any points...

"Reiji is right Chika. We're already so amazed at all the hard work you've put in so far; we've come a long way as a team thanks to you. This doesn't change anything at all." He offered up. She nodded but did little else. The kettle screamed and was quickly tended to before the oldest among their number joined them in the space properly.

Her mentor slid into the other seat beside her before putting his own best foot forward to get her to relax a bit. Rare was a time he saw her this on edge, she must be quite worked up. 'I would be too...'

"This is not a weakness to overcome. The way I see it, you have to develop a tolerance for inflicting harm. That's a large part of why people fight at different ranges. Blasting someone from far away and slicing them up close are very different, but still damaging actions. We'll keep training at range and working on evasive maneuvers. You are hard working and persistent Chika. You're aim is continuing to improve every day and you're consistency isn't far behind either. You should be proud of yourself." She nodded along at all the right times but required prompting to grasp the warm mug offered to her.

"Standard training aside, you have only been in combat scenarios for a few weeks Chika. The B rank wars are just practice for a real fight. Everyone else takes them quite seriously so they are highly effective training scenarios, but they are not real; no one will die in the arena so there is nothing to fear. Besides, you help plenty in other ways already. Even if you never want to shoot, you will always have a place on the team." Osamu had to hold in a grimace at first and was two steps short of intervening. By the end however, Chika's dawn-esque gaze freed itself from her trembling fingers to offer a weak smile over to Yuma.

"Thank you. Thank you guys. I'll keep trying my best; sorry."

Chika finally sought comfort from the cup and carried such to her lips. She deserved better than this. For having lost a brother, a friend, the willingness to trust in or seek comfort from her peers... No one deserved to live in such a manner. Everyone needed someone they could talk to. He wanted little more than to alleviate such woes from her yet he was among those she shut out.

All that was left was to protect her from afar. To fulfill his promise. He had to do more.

His fingers tightened to fists. They would give Chika a wonderful birthday tomorrow to distract her. To remind her how thankful they were to have her around. He had not thought of her presence as often as Kuga's from a point gaining perspective in the arena, but Kuga himself was quick to compliment her on her steady support and consistent execution of his increasingly strange ideas. Not to mention Shiori's constant adoration and borderline coddling of her. They were well on their way already, he felt the truth in that. Maybe some people just needed a reminder that they were valued. Everyone deserved that too, after all. Tomorrow would be for Chika. The day after that would be for the one he'd fallen for.

~

Not many stores stayed open late enough to justify their departure, especially on foot, but he foresaw no other appropriate time for then to go other than before school and his foresight was literally non-extistant compared to Jin's. No much else would be open so early in the morning either. he knew he would have trouble sleeping tonight and was not a morning person; no need to burn the stick from both ends so to speak.

Thus he and Yuma set out a mall on their way back from walking Chika home after dinner. Reiji had offered to drive her but she insisted on having the room to think. She wanted to adhere to his advice it seemed and take the time to think over her feelings and options.

"So, what exactly are we shopping for?" His friend's eyes were squinted closed as he pouted his lips like the child he looked to be. How the other failed to run into things constantly was a miracle likely aided by his stunted growth and perpetuated by bis body's regenerative capabilities. Some days he wished he did not know the answer as to why.

"We want to give Chika a gift for her fourteenth birthday. Anything that we think she'll enjoy or use often."

"So this is for a coming of age ritual?"

"No, not at all really. This is just an annual celebration of life." He caught the widening of Kuga's eyes.

He was always one step away from a sigh with Kuga. Dealing with the neighbor boy could be exhausting: the endless stream of questions, the confused look or over-excitement in his eye over the most mundane of things, his blase, humdrum way of talking. Then the boy would waver ever so slightly, show a glimpse of his true reality or the sort of places he'd come from. 'I lived in many places but all of them were at war. Every day was a war zone almost as long as I can remember.' A child of war. All things considered, Yuma was adjusting quite well.

Had Yugo Kuga really just dragged him between nations looking for a fight? Impressive as what he had heard and seen from the Kugas so far was from a military perspective, he had difficulty interpreting Yuma's Dad's journey as anything but a haphazard to the child he dragged along the way. Yuma may have always put on a smile when he spoke of his father, but the words he spoke carried no mirth. Hardly ever really. So he softened. He refused to sigh. With a patient breath, he pulled at the part of himself that was saved by Jin, that was guided by Rinji, that was ignored by his own father. A hand in the darkness. If this was how he was called to help then so be it.

"So... You have a big dinner and provide offerings every year?"

"Yeah, I guess... What do you mean by offerings?"

"Something given that does not require payment; a gift. Or an offering."

"So in Japan, and most places really, the word offering also carries a religious connotation. Usually a gift to the gods is the only gift we call on offering."

"Hm..." Part of the boy looked as though he wished to further analyze the matter; thankfully however he dropped the topic when he caught sight of the endless aisles. Beyond the sliding doors they passed through, overly saturated colors spilled across some shelves while being washed away on others by overly bright lights above and modern market trends translating to overly saturated packaging. Meanwhile, dull signs dangled over head with numbers and miscellaneous items ascribed.

A glance down and to his right confirmed that, while not overwhelmed necessarily, his friend clearly had no idea where to start. His smile deepened as the sinking dread that he was in a similar spot sunk in. While more familiar with this custom, apparently, he spared another nervous glance towards his friend, he had not been thinking ahead at all. Last minute plans, while manageable, were far from his favorite thing to do. Yet most days that seemed to be what was demanded of him. Being a captain sort of sucked.

He undid a few of the buttons of his jacket while thinking on what she may like that could be found in a general store. Luckily, department stores usually had weird nick knacks and nonsense that could do in a pinch. He already felt sweltering inside the building. After he removed his coat he turned back to his friend to find crimson eyes already ensnared by his movements.

"I think browsing may be our best option. To be honest, I forgot her birthday was so close to Valentine's day so I haven't thought of many worthwhile gift ideas. That said, just seeing what's available will probably be easiest. Does that work for you?"
Yuma's eyes almost had a sort of sparkle in them. He seemed almost alive. That wasn't fair, he was, he was just trapped was all. Dying-

"Whatever my captain says~" Of course. Just another duck face. He did not hold remorse over the sigh he expelled then. Rather, he drifted down one of the nearby aisles.

"Worst comes to worst, we can grab her some sweets."

"Was that not Shiori's gift? I did not realize Chika had such a sweet tooth."

"She doesn't really, I'm just not the most creative."

"That is not a very amusing lie Osamu; your mentor would be disappointed."

"I think he just gets too much enjoyment from harassing Konami."

"She secretly enjoys such; no need to worry."

"Alright..." Most of the aisle was seasonal candies anyway. Fond as he was of Rinji's sister, the idea of giving her heart-shaped chocolates seemed out of place. Yuma had a point too; they couldn't just give her sugary snacks. Something else then.

They drifted up and down a few more aisles aimlessly bouncing ideas back and forth when his phone rang.

"Ah, let me take this, you can keep looking around Kuga, I'll meet back up with you in a few minutes."

"Okay." He hurried to answer whilst the neighbor trundled away with a squint.

"Hey, Shiori-"

"Hey Osamu, sorry to bother you so late, but I completely forgot balloons when I was at the store. Any chance you could grab some and have them ready for tomorrow?"

"Sure, no problems here. I'll see if I can't recruit Kuga to try and burn off some of his excess energy."

"Best of luck, I'm sure you two will get it done in a flash!"

"Of course; was there anything else you needed us to get?"

"That should be all. The cake is rising in the oven as we speak. I'll get up early to frost it tomorrow."

"What happened to store bought cupcakes?"

"Well I got those too, of course, but I was thinking that our darling Chika deserves more than that, plus this will be Tamakoma's first birthday party together! I wanted to go all out!"

"Going, all out huh...?"

"Something wrong Osamu?"

"Ah- No- Actually- Nothing is wrong per say but there was something I've been wondering about for awhile now..."

"Well I'll try to answer if I can; so long as you feel comfortable asking of course."

Osamu drew pause for a few moments in a largely vain attempt to corral his thoughts.

"Shiori, does Border have any rules against agents being romantically involved?"

"Osamu, I'm flattered-"

"It's not you! Er, not that- I mean- You're very nice, I just don't think of you that way- Besides there's someone else... Or rather- My friend has someone in mind that he wants to get more involved with but doesn't want to ruffle any feathers so..."

"Ha ha, I understand, relax. You should tell your friend not to worry too much. While that sort of thing doesn't happen too much, the majority of Border's agents are teenagers so protocols do exist. While frowned upon by some, the bottom line is so long as professionalism is maintained in the workplace and your performance does not decline you are free to do as you please."

"I see..."

"Not to name any names, but some agents you've fought in the rank wars would categorized as such. Not to mention a few high profile agents are always rumored to have flings or things going on."

"D-dating you mean? So I really am allowed?"

"Hehe." He felt sweat bead across his face as he too caught the slip. Not that he had been properly subtle about any of this really.

"So maybe there is someone I was hoping to spend more time with in that way- ah! But please don't tell anybody! I'm not entirely sure what to do yet..."

"Your secrets safe with me. May I ask why you asked me about this though? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to help, I just figured there may be someone who you're closer to who may be better to ask."

"Well for starters, you're very knowledgeable about Border protocol. So I figured-"

"This isn't about protocol though. It's a matter of the heart. You seem nervous about talking to whoever this is all about. Maybe you should ask for input from your other friends too; who have known you longer and can offer more specific advice."

"I only met Kuga a few days before you. I see what you mean, although I really don't know who else to ask... Chika is not someone I ever want to bother with my problems."

"I doubt she thinks that way. I'm certain she would be quite happy to offer you help. Besides, for matters of the heart the more informed opinions the better!"

"Okay... Karasuma would likely twist something into a lie for Konami and my head still hurts from the last time she thought I liked someone. Chika has plenty to worry about without me adding on. I'm not sure who else to ask."

"What about Reiji?"

"He's-" 'Actually, he likely would give meaningful advice, he seems sort of close with Jin though so it'd a risk.'

"I would worry about him guessing the person."

"Why? Is your crush somehow he knows? A fellow branch member perhaps?"

"Ah- That's-"

"It is, it is! This is so exciting! But not me, everyone else you mentioned is out too... I want to guess Chika but... Oh! Is it Yuma? Osamu that's so sweet! You two are perfect, he would be so-"

"No it's not him either." He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose slightly at the thought of dating his small friend. While he enjoyed the reliability and easy-going nature of the boy Osamu felt entirely overwhelmed by him at times. Sure he had dragged him into a side of Border he never would have known otherwise, helped give shape to his dreams and desires, but the flames from that catalyst were burning him up too. Part of him deep down knew he'd been working too hard since his release from the hospital; a major part of the reason he was trying to slow down a bit and focus on other things between now and next match.

Sometimes, being with Yuma was a chance to offer someone set astray and aloof by nature a chance to change into someone more suited to this world. A chance for he himself to be better. Other times, he was a test of said kindness, his own resolve of how far he was willing to go for another as the extent of their different experiences grew like a chasm. It seemed the more time they spent together, the more willing Kuga was to occasionally let slip something from the other side that always made him feel five steps further away. Trying to close that distance and offer closeness, a sense of comfort or belonging to a ship in the night felt a fool's errand. Not that Kuga didn't deserve as much at some point but the task sounded wholly exhausting, he was saddled with enough of that from the boy. Not to mention he looked like a kid; he always would too. Appearances didn't really matter necessarily, but in this case, people may question his tastes if he were to pursue someone who looked like they could be in grade school...

"Sorry, I was just thinking about how weird that would be. No the person I'm thinking of is... Well he's older so it's a bit-"

"Oh...Well I can't say I'm surprised."

"What?! You knew?"

"No, but know that I do? Signs were there." If Shiori had figured as much out, who else knew? Maybe asking by for other opinions wasn't so far-fetched after all.

"Thank you very much for your help Shiori, I have some homework I need to finish still."

"No worries! Come to me with any question any time. Goodnight." Shiori sang as usual before hanging up. He spend a moment or two in thought before his phone was pocketed and he started the self-assigned task of finding Kuga.

Osamu wanted desperately to know if this was how his Dad felt about asking out his Mom. She was always sure to inform him that many a tendency he had reminded her of his father, despite having spent little time in person with the man. 'You have a similar affect about you. It's the air.' She would share.

He shook his head as he nearly bumped into a group of passers by. His full attention would likely be required as the neighbor, while distinctive, was quite small. A challenge in an overly large maze of a space such as this. Thankfully, he didn't need spend too long looking.

He rounded the corner and caught the source of his search. Yuma stood still as a statue. His eyes were light-less, despite a persistent pulse from the florescent bulbs above. He looked like a doll.

Osamu felt as though he had been smashed into by a wave: salt in his eyes, shove to shoulders, a destabilizing rush. The other boy was trapped in a trion body after all. It made sense; even if he tried not to think about it. The reality of his friend's situation had gnawed away at the fabrics of his mind since Replica trusted him enough to share the truth. Since Replica begged him to stop the other boy from doing something irreversible. To give him a reason to stay alive.

While he was by no means boisterous, or fidgety, he was always alert like a sentry. In stillness, Yuma promoted an intensity which, had admittedly lessened in severity since he joined Tamakoma branch, gave him a strong sense of presence despite his height and relative stillness.
The boy before him now was an empty shell. Where was Yuma? Was it time? Was he about to watch his friend bleed out in a department store? Should he call Jin or Rindo? Or maybe emergency services first? Would he be able to do anything to prolong death from claiming the boy or would all those he would leave behind just clean up what remains? He seemed fine other than being vacant, diminished, somehow hollowed out. He looked weary. Yuma was unable to look tired in trion but his current slouch spoke of years. He recalled the second day of school with Yuma, back when their classmates tried to learn about him. 'All of them were at war. I lived in a battlefield for as long as I can remember.' The boy was surprisingly good at deflection, thought the truths he let slip shattered his sense of reality every time. The fact he was a fellow trigger user, a person from the other side, he was also a person trapped in a cruel situation though such was only spoken by his friend once when he was on the brink.

'I was lying there bleeding because I dis-obeyed his orders.' 'Bleeding? How badly and from where? Orders? Who gets orders from their own parents?' His mind nearly drifted to his own father. He clenched his fist and stepped forwards with a call to the void amd an outstretched hand. He gently grabbed a small spiky shoulder with a light shake.

"Kuga?" Yuma tensed, tightened and did a strange sort of roll of his shoulder. He was quick to step back, able to recall all too well the ferocity and efficiency alike in his breaking of others' bodies on their first day of meeting. Luckily, the light nudge seemed to do the trick as all at once the boy became re-animated. Like a monitor exiting sleep mode. He hid behind his glasses as a familiar light sweat stung his brow.

"Osamu. How was your phone talk?"

"It was fine. Shiori asked if we could grab some balloons for tomorrow. Let's just finish with this and go get some rest; I'm feeling a bit drained from all the shopping today."

"Navigating markets is a necessary bane."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the oddity of his friend's speech at times.

"What sort of saying is-" he stuttered, nearly bit his tongue, as a stranger shoved roughly by. A group a teenagers, not malicious but loudly disinterested in anything that wasn't being shouted about by members of their tight knit and writhing circle. As they departed, cold eyes caught on to their backs.

"Kuga, wait-" He barely caught the boy's arm in time as a dullness passed over his eyes and he lurched after the guy who bumped him.

"I'm okay, see? It's not worth it."

"...He should apologize. Shoving people around can be dangerous." While not incorrect under the wrong conditions, a mundane action being considered such, by a neighbor no less, was borderline hysterical. He failed to contain a chuckle at the sort of pout-y glare Kuga cast into the crowd.

"Let's just focus okay? We can pick up the balloons first. Was there anything you saw that she may enjoy."

"...There were a few things maybe. Lead the way, captain." The boy, thankfully, resigned himself to a duck face. Osamu smiled sympathetically and proceed to do just that.

Ultimately they were able to leave the store with a present each and the requested item for their operator before close with no other notable issues.

Osamu got her a book on baking recipes, as he had overheard her and Shiori talking about trying to make some sweets on more than one occasion. Whether they were serious about as much or not was another matter but one beyond his control.

Yuma meanwhile settled on a round squishy stuffed animal the size of a small dog that looked like a ball of white rice with seaweed and a tiny squished face. Of course he was still getting her white rice. Shiori would not be pleased, but the image of Yuma with a stuffed animal was sort of cute. The soft look of the doll made the boy look enough like a child to almost be mirthful; alive.

Thoughts of how best to wrap said gifts could be left until morning. He could not wait for sleep to carry him away in his new home.

~

Chapter Text

~

Ever since Ninomiya barged onto their base with news of her brother everything felt a bit unstable. She wanted at once to ream him for bringing forth problems and additionally obscurities to their path while also praising him in coming forth with their first form of a lead since she shared her goal with another. How was she to square such a thing when Shiori had, justifiably, excused herself from their goal and situations pertaining to it, her captain and self-assigned protector stayed all but frozen until the end when he lurched forth in desperation, and their ace was almost entirely dismissed and pushed aside, despite his best efforts to stand in her corner? He did admittedly quiet down significantly after she freely admitted such an action was likely to have been taken by her brother but she was still quietly furious over Ninomiya's dismissal.

For one reason or another she got the impression Yuma held a strong dislike for people who spoke poorly of or went against those who alleged to be allies, all joking aside. She found this at once strange and endearing, as was the norm for their neighbor friend.

After asking her mentor about the matter he seemed more knowledgeable and more secretive, somehow, than she initially thought. She did ascribe a a great wealth of competency to the man already. Not to mention Osamu seemed distant. He always did to a certain extent but this...

More than anything, the incident made her angry with herself. For as much as she fumed over others not acting differently, the truth was she had not been brave enough to offer dissent. To question. To do little more than sit and stew and wonder if it was really her fault he went through with all of this in the first place. If not her her, for her trion levels, her presence, would her brother be here? Attending college? Free of worry and danger alike?

Even though only a few months had passed at most, seasons felt as though they trudged by since last she and Osamu headed in the direction of their houses, just the two of them. While the nostalgia brought up sweetness, Chika much preferred when Yuma, and ideally Izuho as well although the four of them only really hung out for lunches at school or HQ, rounded out the group. He had become such an essential part of their ever-evolving lives that she struggled to imagine how she had forced herself through days before flash-bangs and fights became common place. Yet despite the increase of violence she experienced on the daily, she had never felt safer really. More at home. More herself. A large part of that she ascribed to Yuma. While a bit off-putting at times just out of sheer oddness or lack of understanding, his whole-hearted curiosity and willingness to learn and help others always shone through; a constant reassurance to Osamu's ever present concerns. Those were similarly reassuring in their own way, a familiarity woven in as a net labelled protection. Chika would always be grateful to her brother's friend and the depths of his compassion; his dedication to aid her in her brother's stead. She appreciated the other's efforts, deeply, however she never felt it right to ask him, or anyone really, to intervene on her behalf. If the neighbors wanted to target her more strongly than others, she would do her utmost to survive all on her own. Even now...

Especially now.

She cast a glance over to Osamu. His knuckles were white where he clutched the straps of his backpack.

"Are you looking forward to moving onto base?"

"Ah! Yeah, it should be easier for me to research other teams and having access to the training rooms will be nice too."

"Of course" she wanted to speak out. In part to voice her concerns for how hard he had been working, especially considering how little time had elapsed since his release from the hospital, all things considered. The other part was to offer him comfort in the present. With the start of the rank wars, Osamu felt further. His focus and dedication were admirable, praise-worthy, something that inspired herself to strive to be better, to do more. But she also knew her mentor's wisdom of caring for one's self as a means of helping others. Somehow, she doubted Osamu's mentor had covered this lesson, despite his obvious need for it.

To bring voice to her own worries and wander into his domain felt a taboo neither she nor Yuma dared cross. Unspoken was their agreement that Osamu's demonically helpful nature was to be preserved at all costs. Thus she never raised dissent or complaints. Yuma similarly failed to voice grievances or concerns. They both left such a space for their captain and his never-ending river of them. Such a stream was similarly the place from which his tactics and ingenious ideas sprung forth. A well to be nourished if filtered through.
Unwilling to break this self-assumed rule she poked at a different point of potential concern, more a gesture than anything.

"It's rare that Yuma doesn't walk with us."

"Ah, I asked Kuga to head over to Tamakoma branch, he said he would try and get the room ready but I doubt there's much left to do."

"Hm..." the answer, while logical didn't quite sit right. Like a pair of shoes that felt off when worn, only to discover the left and right shoes were reversed. Before she dared to twist round the authenticity of his words, they were onto his points of potential concern, a realm she had not ventured into even thinking of for a while now.

"Hey Chika?"

"Yeah, what's up, Osamu?"

"There's... I have something I wanted to ask you about... But if it's too weird you don't have to! Ah- This is already off to a bad start..."

"No need to worry; ask away." He drew in a few deep breaths while she stared at puffed up clouds over head. Thankfully, there were not enough for her captain to worry about rain. At least that was her hope.

"There's... So um... There's this guy..." Her eyes snapped onto her captain so fast she felt faint for a second.

"You have a crush? Do I know them?"

"Er, no- No- I'm asking for a friend you see..." She smiled as a blush blazed across her friend's face. Overwhelming Osamu was entirely too easy. Not to mention these expressions of his were far preferable to the stony stance he had sunken into at times as of late. She supposed a little more fun could be had while harboring every intention of helping him out in any way necessary. She already watched his chance slip away once after all.

"Ohhh. I bet this friend of yours has a thing for taller guys."

"Ah- That's not- I don't care about height that much..."

"I'm just kidding, that's wonderful Osamu!"

"Thanks I guess... But the thing is he's a bit older then me-"

'Rinji had been too...'

"-And he's so busy a lot of the time, a relationship between us just doesn't seem that realistic."

'Busy? Who was busy compared to Osamu? The master of over-working himself? Who did she see even less of than- Oh.'

"But at the same time, I can't help wanting to take this opportunity, if that's what this time is. I just feel as though I'll regret losing my chance so much if I don't speak up now, that I may not have the strength to act in this area of my life again..." She felt a similar fire fueled when it came to attaining A rank in response to Ninomiya's actions. She had expected a similar one from her teammates though in hindsight, that was her fault for making assumptions about them rather than communicating. She found herself wondering briefly if Yuma had been motivated at all and if yes, to help push them forwards or to make a confession of his own seemed- Yeah, if anything he probably just wanted to fight more...

"I understand." He looked up, spring green eyes landed upon dawn-cast magenta. She truly did. He felt her steady assurance in this truth. She may be the youngest and one of the smallest amongst their number, but of this she was quite confident.

"It's Jin isn't it?"

"How did you-"

"I knew who your last crush was too, so it wasn't a huge leap. Sorry."

"You... Knew? So that means Rinji... So he?"

"Yeah... My brother almost certainly knew as well."

"Of course he would. Sorry to drag you into this."

'If not for me, my brother would still be here. You would have a chance to properly pursue the one you love. Are his feelings for Jin real? Or does he see parts of Rinji there? In the smirks and slight maneuvers...' Few agents spoke of Jin, but when they did it was in awe and dread alike, schemes and the safety of Border seemed a strange combination to be hyper-fixated on but who was she to judge.

"There's nothing to apologize for. Sorry to interrupt your flow. Was there, something you wanted to ask me?"

"I guess... I was hoping for some advice of how to share my feelings but, it's not fair to-"

"Just tell him what you like about him. No matter how he feels, one way of another, he will receive your feelings. That's who you are Osamu, someone who can share himself with others. It's one of the things we respect about you as a teammate."

"'We'?"

"Ah, Yuma and I. We talked when you were first hospitalized after the invasion you know. He may not have come to Mikado General Hospital until after you woke up, but while you were in critical condition at Border, Yuma stayed as close as they would let him. I was only there for a bit, most of us weren't brave enough at first with the way you looked... Bleeding on the bed with all the tubes and- Sorry. The point is, when we were watching you, Yuma and I talked about your 'nature as a demon of helpfulness' or so he called it. I agree completely. When he was comforting me, that's what he said. That given your nature, you had to wake up; you would never abandon those in need. Everyone respects that about you. I think you should share your whole heart with him if that's what will bring you peace. But please be proud of yourself no matter what- oof!"

Osamu enveloped her in a hug completely and compactly. She squeezed back with a smile.

"Thanks, Chika. I will."

"Of course. Ah, Osamu."

"Yeah?" He was quick to compose himself, freeing her and scrubbing underneath his eyes with glasses pushed up as he took a few steps back from her much shorter form.

"We may have walked past your house."

"Ah! By a good five minutes or so yeah. Hopefully Reiji doesn't have to wait too, long, let's hurry back!

"Roger, captain."

"Don't you get all hung up on that now too..." She laughed and ran past him as he bemoaned the responsibilities he'd claimed.

"C'mon Osamu, maybe a walk will help inspire you." A confession was a wordy and emotionally draining affair from what she had seen and heard from others and media. Chika hoped he would be able to get his feelings across properly when the time came. She wished him all the best in said endeavor.

~

While a bit draining, admittedly, the constant moving of boxes was soothing in a way. A quiet back and forth. A simple goal for once. It reminded her of the headspace she fell into while shooting. A still sort of calm. A lake without ripples. Not that Ms. Mikumo let her move anything while in their residence, but once they were in Tamakoma again and her mentor had to excuse himself prep dinner, despite the early hour, he would be quite busy in the evening and wasn't one to squander a head start, she found herself floating along supporting box after box.

Once she, Kizaki, and Osamu returned to Tamakoma branch and her mentor parted with them, Shiori and Yuma wandered down to take his place. Their team was not the best equipped for the task given their relative height and builds but Yuma was surprisingly strong for his size. Luckily Osamu similarly thought to pack mostly multiple small boxes and bags rather than a few large ones. They grabbed a couple of the lighter things and wandered up to see his hastily prepared room. Shiori bemoaned they lacked the time to empty out the desk, but the bookshelves were clean and empty and considering the room had previously sunk in status to that of a storage space they did pretty well. Polished wood floors, ub-obscured, dust free surfaces, a freshly made bed and the window cracked open to let the curtain carry itself up with the wind. All at once a grievous sense of envy fell upon her. She wondered what extremes would have to pass for her parents to approve her moving onto base. While she tried desperately to clear her head and heart of such wonders her mind wandered vaguely back to the conversation Osamu had with her earlier.

At a glance, she couldn't tell he was a boy in love, smitten and with an aching heart; though she supposed most people who boiled longing within them tended to keep such sentiments veiled under lock and key until the appropriate moment. She still started to keep an eye out for signs, maybe- Except the signs she saw were not from Osamu. They were from his shadow. His ever present partner and self-assigned protector.

For every uncertain wave of his had, Yuma provided a steady stillness. When Osamu stumbled under an over-ambitious load, Yuma was quick to quietly move in to support him un-bidden. Neither ever pushed or pressed yet their rapport played a constant part in their casual passings. All of theses actions on their own were normal, excusable, expected from the pair. But an underlying current was their. This unspoken energy she felt gathering shape in the darkness for months.

Chika wandered to the back of the car, pausing for a brief water break. The boys drifted in not a moment later. Osamu moaned into a stretch while Osamu traced his shoulders with soft eyes and a slight smile. After cracking his neck, he fished a few more boxes from the backseat. His pass of them over to Yuma seemed steady, an uneventful affair given the past few hours. Yet she watched in surprise at the slight jolt when their hands brushed together on the last pass. Yuma jumped away, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks and a tension within his shoulders that had little to do with the boxes limiting his movements and vision alike. Osamu withdrew, another box in hand, graciously grabbed one from the tower he left Yuma with, and started the walk back to his new room. With neither a glance nor instruction, Yuma drifted after their captain. His eyes shared a similar glint to the one she'd sighted in other agents during target practice. Shiori wandered in a minute later, waved at her, then followed after the pair with a sigh and a few bags in hand. She waved back yet stalled in place as her mind whirled with the reality she witnessed.

She felt as though her heart was being stretched. On the one had, while somewhat subtle, once one was familiar with the pair, it was obvious how much Yuma respected, appreciated, enjoyed the company of, and borderline adored Osamu.

On the other hand... the only reason she was able to recognize all of these things was she had seen them before. Not in her own anxious self, more worried about staying on this side of the gates and squeaking under the radar at school than being bothered by something so grandiose as romance. Neither had she noticed such affectionate glances snuck between her coldly stoic on the best of days and largely absent parents. Parents who said 'I love you' from rote rather than feeling; if they remembered at all. Parents who participated in the interrogation regarding her brother's disappearance rather than aiding the rescue party. She had seen the signs before in Osamu. Sure they manifested differently, but the shared intent was present all the same. Where Osamu would fidget and blush uncontrollably, Yuma would hide beneath his bangs and tense up, still and smaller than normal. Where Osamu would adjust his glasses and launch into a detailed tirade with winding explanations and flailing hands, Yuma would sit patiently and listen with a soft smile utterly enraptured. Where Osamu stretched out a hand towards those in need, blatant and sub-conscious every day, Yuma stayed motionless; indifference feigned until an emergency boiled up or someone outwardly called for help and ignited his own desires to protect.

The pair were perfectly compatible, complimentary even. The only wrinkle? They had not been looking at each other and neither were their intents ever overlaid. Yuma was the one who wouldn't stop looking his way when Osamu cast out a compliment towards the boy. Yuma would, and did on occasion, listen to Osamu talk for literal hours. Yuma who swooped in to stand up for their captain when others attempted to push him down. Osamu would smile, laugh and nod. He was relaxed. Clearly he trusted Yuma. Osamu had explicitly stated how dear of a friend Yuma was to him. But he never returned the glances, the looks. On the few occasions their bodies brushed against each other, Osamu did not fizzle or flare up or retreat the way Yuma would. The white-haired boy kept his feelings subtle: quick to hide away, quicker to redirect, but always returning to Osamu.

The person she had seen Osamu get worked up over brushing fingers with was Rinji. Her brother had never expressed reciprocation but she knew for a fact that had his actions caught her attention then her brother had been aware of Osamu's feelings for awhile. He never took action one way or another. He simply let Osamu's feelings fester unaddressed.

She stared at the backs of the three agents, quicker than her to carry their loads to their new home. With a blink and the shake of her head, she deduced this was not only far from her problem but a budding situation that was not her place to speak on. The boys were smart, older, more mature. Surely they would figure things out on their own.

The wanders back and forth left her to drift in thought until Shiro abruptly sent her away. The logic seemed faulty, but she refused to question the smiling wave that met her glance over the shoulder after being shoved back down the hall. She slowed her descent down the stairs while her mind drifted to those behind her. In the shadowy corridor snares of self-doubt sprung up.

There was more she could do for their team. Ever since being pre-maturely promoted to B-rank via point transfer from her teammates service awards, she felt a strong compulsion to justify her presence on the team. What right did she have to leech off their hard work? What could she do to possibly justify the theft of their hard earned points, voluntarily or not? That same day, Yuma had been forced to go in to HQ early just to get enough points to qualify for B rank before their match. Granted, he did so with relative ease, and she understood the sound logic that perpetuated all these people's actions. Deep down, she was even grateful. A balm applied to a secret wound she harbored and hid away before she knew most other things. A dark truth about her true nature and the lives she may cost. That did not make it fair or right or easier to rest that truth in her chest while still looking them in the eye, feeling that she earned a spot on the team rather than lucked into it with an unusually high trion level.

Maybe some more training wouldn't hurt after all. She liked to think her aim and combat skills were improving, though not enough for her to authentically qualify as B-rank independently.

She rounded the corner to the kitchen and living room area. With a glance, she caught Yotaro leaned onto a guy in a hoodie. The pair was fixated on a computer placed on the coffee table while the younger pointed animatedly at the screen. With a smile, she left them to it and drifted deeper into the room. Her mentor had taken over the kitchen table completely; flour flew faintly about and coated most of the wooden surface. Most of the bowls she had seen pulled from the depths of Tamakoma's kitchen seemed to be in use one way or another, and the distant scent of something savory washed over her all at once. An array of dumplings spread out across the table, carefully being closed delicately by hands that all but dwarfed the small snacks. Wordlessly, after washing her hands, she slipped into a seat beside him and began to help.

"How're you doing mister Kizaki?"

"Ah, Chika. Did Osamu finish moving everything already? He has more stuff than we thought." The pair chuckled slightly. Wordlessly she sat beside him.

"He sure does and not really no, though they seemed to be about done. Ah! But I ran into Shiori and she said you were looking for me?"

"Looking for you...?" He slipped into thought. Just as she suspected; why their operator felt the need to deceive she had not idea. Despite the overall happy-go-lucky, laid back and oddity riddled nature of the Tamakoma branch itself, lies were common and secrets ran deep. She tried not to stare too closely into the shadows for fear they would not only stare back but bring a piece of their intent as well. She saw it in the way the Boss, while always wearing a smile, hid away his eyes and kept the depths of his happiness concealed, one was left with the impression their was little he was actually happy about. Itching for his next smoke break as her own father was inclined to do. At least the Boss behaved in a well-meaning and cordial manner. The team wouldn't be able to compete at all if not for his generosity.

Much as the older man confounded her, it was the little tells in the day to day life of the senior agents that put her the most on edge; not that she was ever uncomfortable in Tamakoma, quite the opposite in fact she had always felt a sense of belonging here. However, there was an unspoken weight over her elders. She felt it in the silence that stretched sometimes if the younger agents were absent for too long. She heard it in the whispers round concealed corners. Saw it in the bags beneath eyes before trion bodies were donned. The over the top lies and slide into gullibility that Karasuma and Konomi pulled whenever tensions felt a bit tight. Kizaki's constant reassurance and over-eagerness to excuse them from situations or send her home early if the shadows seemed to stretch particularly long on a given day. The way everyone deferred to the judgement of Jin without question, contrary to Konami's complaints about 'his schemes', as though to do as much in the past had cost them.

All signs were subtle, seated beneath boundless moments of food made, served and shared, desserts enjoyed, shows watched, training countless hours, running and recovering, the never-ending grind towards self-improvement in what felt to be the smallest of steps taken with a smile. She felt the warmth too. Saw the smiles that chased away fears from far back and worries of what may yet come. She was neither brave nor curious enough to dare broach the topic with anyone. But she had felt the fester of untold truths long enough within the walls of her own home to see the signs. Though she doubted the weighted sadness settled here was born from a series of not so secret affairs. Rinji had filled the role of protector, a gentle hand to guide her gaze away. He was gone now. In his place was a target. Trion she could fire again and again and again and again.

What was fair about competing in the same division as all the others? When she had not earned her place but could change the terrain of any map she so chose? Thus she refused to fire unless ordered by Osamu. Their captain could make the calls. Claim responsibility. To place all pressures on him felt a bit tactless as well. But what else was she to do? Without combat experience herself, or a clever mind and unyielding determination, what else could she hope to achieve?

"Mister Kizaki. Once we finish with these, would you mind training with me a bit more?"

"Not at all. Anything in particular you'd like to focus on today?"

She paused. Kneaded another dumpling into shape. The motion had long since lost it's soothing affects and was being conducted by her merely on rote. Her mentor, meanwhile seemed to pinch each piece shut with a tender care that pointed towards a deliberate maintenance of tenderness. This, as with many things when if came to her mentor, was another area she wished to imitate.

"If we could work on search and evade tactics again, I think that would help me a lot."

"Want to be able to run away while Shiori is indisposed?"

"More than that, I think it's important I'm able to position myself independently with just my radar and line of sight; Shiori always seems very busy..."

"No need to worry. She will always have your back. Regardless, yes, I would be more than happy to run through a few exercises with you. Let's finish these and get cleaned up before the others come down; then we can run some drills."

"Yes sir!"

~

Their training session was drawn short when Kizaki caught her eyes; more importantly the hesitation therein. Even while she had a gun pointed at his head. Even when he sent his own weapon away. Even when she should have been able to end him instantly. Both remained unchanged. He called her over. Now they trapped through the branch's halls. She a step of so behind her mountian of a mentor whilst her tried not to openly appear to be brooding. His results, unfortunately, were mixed at best.

When they re-entered the living room, a different pair took up residency than earlier. Osamu was sprawled across one of the chairs as though he were trying to melt into the plushy fabric itself. Yuma meanwhile sate somewhat straight, but rather slouched for him, one hand tensed around the other while his gaze bounced between her and her mentor almost before they entered it felt.

"Chika, is everything okay?"

"Sorry... We were training..."

"Chika has something she needs to share with you both; as her teammates." Her mentor encouraged, gentle yet firm. She swallowed nervously as she strove not to fidget too much. How could she possibly voice her own ineptitude? After everything they had done for her? The protection, the encouragement, the companionship, the torch in the night; hope. How could she repay all that was offered with a refusal to act? It felt wrong, unfair-

"What is it Chika?" This wasn't something she could keep from her teammates. As soon as Kizaki had called off training for the day, and offered an ear to listen, he insisted she share with the others on her squad as soon as possible, lest their enemies learn before they do. She took a deep breath, tried to feel the oxygen spread throughout her system, and spoke the truth she had been trying to avoid since she first fired a trion weapon. Much as she loathed the truth, her teammates deserved to know; Kizaki was right. If she lost her spot on the team because of this, so be it. They deserved honesty after everything.

"I can't shoot people."

There was a pause while the truth hung in the air.

"You can't shoot people?"

"But it's so easy..." Yuma seemed as though he almost wanted to convince himself, though his eyes stayed steady on her. She appreciated the space. This was embarrassing enough without also being fussed over...
"Yuma, Osamu, Usami, and I all see how hard you train every day. There is nothing to feel bad about. Not being able to shoot people is the normal, healthy, way to be." Her mentor's tone was firm. Unyielding. The same as when he stated basic sniper rules or the ways one should expect a trigger to function. He carried on in absolutes.

"Just give yourself some time. If you still want to carry on as a fighter just get yourself used to the idea gradually."

"Reiji is right Chika. We're already so amazed at all the hard work you've put in so far; we've come a long way as a team thanks to you. This doesn't change anything at all." Osamu said while a kettle called from somewhere far off.

"This is not a weakness to overcome. The way I see it, you have to develop a tolerance for inflicting harm. That's a large part of why people fight at different ranges. Blasting someone from far away and slicing them up close are very different, but still damaging actions. We'll keep training at range and working on evasive maneuvers. You are hard working and persistent Chika. You're aim is continuing to improve every day and you're consistency isn't far behind either. You should be proud of yourself." She tried to keep pace with Kizaki's words woven into comfort. Yet when the mug appeared before her she was all to surprised. Nothing seemed to be sticking. Everything being spoken made sense but was caught in the contradictions that were suddenly jumping up within her.

Another constant carried over in a calm drone from somewhere off to her right.

"Standard training aside, you have only been in combat scenarios for a few weeks Chika. The B rank wars are just practice for a real fight. Everyone else takes them quite seriously so they are highly effective training scenarios, but they are not real; no one will die in the arena so there is nothing to fear. Besides, you help plenty in other ways already. Even if you never want to shoot, you will always have a place on the team." A glance over confirmed the speaker to be the boy from the other side. Of course. She offered him a smile and leaned into the feeling of warmth from the cup her fingers cradled.

"Thank you. Thank you guys. I'll keep trying my best; sorry."

She took a sip and instantly sunk into the soothing sweetness she found there. This was something she could work through, or around at the very least, with the help of her team. She wasn't alone anymore. So long as she could remember as much, if the feeling could truly sink in...
Chika thought back on Yuma's steadfast support. He didn't even think to question her position on the team in those terms. 'Combatant of course. Because she's amazing.' Sure the words were only in reference to her trion reserves, but to have his steadfast logic flung out at her made the words feel true. As though she should only question her position on the field not role on the team. Yet here she sat spitting in the face of his confidence. She wanted to apologize but felt at once too crowded in the moment and as though her words would not be properly perceived. She did not have Osamu's gift for speaking from the heart. Or Yuma's ability to be direct. She also lacked Shiori's sweet silliness or subtle reliability. Even though it felt as though a lot had happened since she first joined, all she had to do was think back to her actions in the first invasion to feel conflicted at a standstill.

Was it really people she couldn't shoot? Maybe the idea of shooting her mentor was... But she never even considered shooting anyone in the rank wars. Why not? Wasn't that her job? Though now that she thought on the matter, Osamu had never once ordered her to fire on anyone. There had been plenty of moments when another agent entered her crosshair. Sure, strategically they had not expected her to be able to compete on the same level as a team of seasoned snipers in their second match; a completely fair point she agreed with in totality. There first match hardly felt to be such. But what about their fight against Nasu squad and Suzunari-1? Surely she could have scored a point? Her bullets were less likely to be impacted by the weather given her volume of trion, yet all she did was shoot the bridge, a massive immobile target, then run around. She felt useless. Redundant. Was this why? How could she possibly-

"What's going through your head? You shouldn't let yourself get stuck in their for too long. You can't just hide away and ruminate all the time, building up negativity like that is dangerous, it's important to feel your emotions and talk through your situations with others if you're ever feeling overwhelmed. We're here to lend you an ear." She took another sip of her drink and relished the warmth from the mug and the truth of their words. She was immensely thankful to have others she could trust curtained around her while her mind spiraled out: grounding presences, gentle reassurances, calls back, a warm drink. She was certain people who found themselves without anyone to care for them in these moments were the ones who went crazy. Surely such safety was a necessity.

"I was wondering how I'll be able to help in the next match..." She tried to steady her smile but her lip wobbled. She sniffed sharply to still any tears before they could gain traction down her face. She was not seeking condolences. Ideas on how to be better, but not empty reassurances. What use was a sniper who couldn't- Hatohara...

"But... Mister Kizaki?" She sniffled again just to ensure the dam was blocked for good before raising her gaze form a steam distorted reflection trapped within the mug to meet her mentor's eyes. She felt far more confident now then when she had committed to the same action in the training room not thirty minutes ago.

"Will you please tell me more about what miss Hatohara did, when she found out she suffered from the same thing?" After a moment to take a few deep breaths himself, her mentor began to fulfill her request. He had imparted some information about her to them over dinner after Ninomiya showed up in a tornado's rush at their branch. Yet she was left wondering how the former sniper came to learn this about herself, what techniques she may have tried to alleviate the guilt, what worked. If her team used to be A-rank even though she couldn't shoot anyone than maybe...

She wanted to hold out hope that a world where her dream of seeing her friend and her brother again, of making A-rank, and somehow not being considered a monstrous anomaly for making it happen was possible.
Kizaki was unable to answer most of her questions. She was forever grateful for his honesty. Frankly, she found Karasuma and Konami's constant back and forth of deception exhausting. With each shake of his head she found that fabled future faded further and further from her grasp. Would they really be able to do this? Sure they were already in the upper tier of B-ranks but...

As though sensing her unease, Osamu spoke up once her questions slowed down and fizzled out.

"This doesn't change anything. Our goal is the same. I'll keep training and working on strategies. We'll all just keep getting stronger in our own way and rise to A rank!"

"Right." She nodded along with their captain's enthusiasm, feigned or otherwise, but couldn't help but catch the knowing look her mentor cast their way. Yuma's duck-face offered no useful information really; per usual. All that left her with was the shaky belief that maybe their faith alone would be enough. Already the implausibility of such crept in. She would just have to train even harder before their next match.They could win. She refused to be the reason they fell short. By the end of the season she would try to take a shot. She would make their patience with her, their willingness to give her a shot, worth it. No matter what.

~

Metal banged against the floor. Cabinet doors slammed. Stomps and clatters carried up throughout the house from the central hive of the family home's kitchen.

"You came back for your birthday this week; you don't care about her at all!"

"Like you're one to talk. What happened to that seminar in the Bahamas?"

"Today of all day's?!"

"Would you not pipe down about that already, everybody has a birthday!"

'Ah... Mom must've wanted to make breakfast. I wish she didn't care sometimes, then it would be-' A buzz to her shoulder like a taser with an alarm blare to boot. She swiped frantically until the sound stopped, only to be replaced by a new overly loud shout.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHIKAKO!"

"T-thank you very much, Izuho?"

"The one and only~! I think it's cool to be fashionably late on your birthday, but that doesn't really seem your style." She pried the screen from her ear, confirmed the name atop was that of her best friend, then glanced the time.

"Ah! R-right! I'll be ready in five, just meet me on the corner please!" Her whispered yell was distracted at best while she frantically scoured for a uniform.

"Roger that! See ya in a sec!" Her phone became a dead weight she cast aside in the direction of her backpack. Ever thankful that her room had the half-bathroom attachment she was able to scrub her teeth down, throw on some clean clothes and stuff her homework folder into her bag with three minutes to spare.

'Double check for phone, wallet, keys, homework, trigger- ah! Okay...' She tip-toed to the top of the stairs. This was it. The threshold. The point of no return. The moments when she missed her brother the most.

She descended, key in one hand and a death grip on her backpack strap with the other.

She attempted a silent escape. Her mother sighted her anyway.

"That you Chika? Happy birthday, darling!"

"Thanks Mom, I've gotta go."

"Happy birthday Chika, will you be back for a birthday dinner? We need to give you your presents."

"Thank you very much. I can get up early before school tomorrow to receive them and have breakfast if you want. I'm on defense duty tonight so..."

"Of course, try and get up to something fun, birthday girl."

"Will do."

"And remember to stay safe out there."

"Will do."

"And make sure you're still making time to get all your assignments done, I don't want to hear your grades are slipping because of this 'Border' thing, ya hear?"

"Will do."

"Love you guys too" she mumbled once the door was snugly shut. It took her a few seconds longer than usual to get her house key fitted into the lock. After she heard a tell-tale click and withdrew said key to her backpack, she spared a moment to un-clench her jaw and take a few deep breaths. The sun splashed across her neighbor's law in an array of violets and light greens. The tips of flowers glowed in the morning sun. Stretched shadows cast the rest of the world in a blue hue she associated with winter's chill. With an exhale into her coat she strode down the walk and out the gate towards her rendezvous point with Izuho. The day was just beginning. Frost sparkled across scattered surfaces. She smiled at nature's glitter only to catch her friend's full body wave.

"Morning Chikako! Happy birthday!" All at once she was enveloped in a hug. She could only resist for a moment before she fell into a wave of giggles.

"Thank you, thank you, please get off." Izuho similarly laughed but freed herself so they could begin their walk to school.

"Thanks again for waking me up Izuho."

"Man, I'm surprised you can sleep through all that racket..." She puckered her lips, a move reminiscent enough of her team's ace to immediately endear her to the girl when the first met in training. In this instance however, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what was behind the mask of a motion.

"You get used to it. A-anyways, wanna get some extra practice in after school today?" Strange, now her friend really seemed nervous. What could be bothering her...?

"Not everything is about training Chikako; you're getting some bad habits from your team-mates. Unfortunately, I have an obligation after school- But it will only be a few hours and then I'd love to take you out to a movie or dessert or something!" At first her sentences were sloping and unsure, but after her friend glanced down at her face she stumbled over herself with waves of her hands and rushed reassurances.

"I understand, I was just curious, it's always fun training with you."

"Aw, c'mon. I'm the one whose supposed to be complimenting you today!"

"Th-there's no need for that!"

"Oh yeah? Well how else am I gonna let Border's number one up and coming sniper know she's appreciated for all her hard work?"

"Now, you're being ridiculous."

"You and your captain four-eyes need to learn to accept praise better. Come to think of it, does the shrimp respond normally to praise? Or have I uncovered the true weakness of Tamakoma-2?"

"C'mon, it's not like that! I've just benefited a lot from my team's success, but I completely agree with you that Osamu should learn to accept compliments more; he seems pretty tense most of the time."

"I'll bet. Aiming for A-rank right after being promoted to B-rank is hardcore."

"Isn't that what everybody is doing?"

"Well yeah, I guess, but most squads don't seem to attain that status as quickly as you guys are."

"We're only in-"

"Upper B-rank after three matches. Three Chikako! That's gotta be some sort of record."

"Yeah but-"

"But nothing! Your demolition skills aside, the way you navigate the field is super sneaky; I've seen C-ranks take notes of your technique before." Izuho leaned in conspiratorially. She couldn't restrain a smile while she attempted to bat her away.

"Now you're definitely being over the top."

"Whatever~ See you for lunch Chikako! Rooftop?"

"Of course! See you later!" She waved her friend off and slipped into her more silent self to sink into routine. She had been perfectly content to just let today pass by like any other day. Her smile stretched slightly against her will at the thought of Izuho's immediate, and unknowing, objection to the idea right off the bat.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

~

"Happy birthday Chika!" A chorus call of varying pitches and volumes; more ruckus than musical. Confetti came down about her shoulders. A sloppily scribbled banner hung crooked in the corner. Her friends spread their arms wide in the Tamakoma branch's living room. She felt honored.

"Cake! Cake! Cake!" Yotaro chanted.

"We have to sing first but yes."

"And then presents?"

"You know you're not the one who gets them right, Yotaro?"

"Yes, but my future wife gets to open my present."

"I'll be thankful for whatever you have to offer." Though she was admittedly a bit nervous the boy's fixation on marrying her had persisted. She still felt herself reeling in place from the shock of it. The boy's words sparked her attention to drift past onto the coffee table nearby where shapes and sizes of various colors sat auspiciously. She found herself enthralled at once not by the notion of presents but by the collected expressions of people close to her. Each package was carefully crafted by a distinct hand, which alone was enough to move her to near tears once again, regardless of whatever contents they were kind enough to offer her. Honestly, she wouldn't mind if every package was filled with bubble wrap, or better yet white rice, so long as she could admire the package's exterior's for awhile longer.

A small box wrapped in blue with her mentor's handwriting. Beside that one an overly-large gift-bag, decorated with overlapping smiley-face stickers, labelled 'from the Rindo family.' A large pink bag with kittens leaping and Izuho's scrawl. A smaller mint green bag beside hers, absolutely stuffed with packing peanuts and a tag somehow more illegible than Izuho's; she suspected this was Yuma's work. Tucked next to that was the picture-perfect ideal of a present: magenta, rectangular, neatly wrapped with primly folded edges and a bow to boot. Indicative of Osamu's work, though a similarly idealistic if more vibrant gift stood near that one. Shirori's work she suspected. Said teammate caught her eyeing the table and smiled, her speech melodic as she placed candles atop a small and sweet smelling cake.
"All the senior agents are busy with defense duty, but they left behind a bounty of dorayaki for us and a few even left gifts.

Everyone's singing lilted into a different pitch. Yuma sat to the side with his signature duck face clapping softly in time with the others' more exaggerated beats. Yotaro belted out the words overconfident in his knowledge of the timing. Osamu droned on with eyes on the floor and metronome pacing. Izuho and Shiori swayed with her, arms linked around her to enfold her in the small circle's song.

A smile wouldn't stop stretching her face to the point her cheeks tingled. Two steps short of a giggle with every breath. As the song drew to a close and clapping abounded she blew out the candles; a wish cradled deep with her chest. Every last one went out.
"First slice to the birthday girl~ Fourteen at last! How does it feel?" Chika pretended to hold up a microphone towards her while Shiori shoveled, what looked like a fourth of the cake, onto a plate and into her arms, fork set aside.

"The same, I suppose, although right now I'm really happy. That's more because you all took the time to plan this out for me than because of my age though."

"Your honesty endears us to all to you, Chikako!" Unable to wrap her in a hug without jeopardizing the sanctity of her cake, Izuho settled with a ruffling of her hair before scampering over to claim the next piece after Yotaro.

Osamu was served followed by Yuma and lastly Shiori who scooped something for herself only after everyone else had already taken a bite. Chika offered her an appreciative smile while Shiori held a finger to her lips and winked.
"Thank you all so much!" She bowed. Her cheeks burned from how much she was smiling, no doubt red as she fended off tears from forming in the corners of her eyes. The cake was delicious.

After a quick break to wash the dishes, as Chika herself insisted on helping, the group gathered round once more to watch her tear through their gifts.

Kizaki got her a small watch and wristband for tracking fitness stats in the body over time. It was a rather cheap model, but durable and compact, relatively bare bones. Everyone else seemed skeptically but deep sown she loved it. Once the weather warmed a bit more, she had every intention of improving her endurance with runs at dawn. This would be perfect for tracking progress on her solo training mission. She would have to find a way to thank her mentor.

Apparently 'the Rindo family' was none other than Yotaro and the Boss himself, though they insisted on including Rajinmaru as well. Why not? The pair, trio, graced her with a treasure trove of Border merch. Hoodies to a phone case, stickers and t-shirts, even a fold-able umbrella which she was similarly assured held the Tamakoma branch insignia on it. She was sure to thank Yotaro. Feeling brave she offered him a brief hug and he allowed her to pet Rajinmaru's stomach. Something the capybara actually seemed willing to tolerate for once as she rolled over complacently. Her fur really was quite soft; not worht marrying a five year old for though.

Izuho gave her an array of nick knacks: pencils, stickers, erasable markers. What was a seemingly random assortment on the surface however called back to a variety of their conversations and jokes. Little things she wasn't sure the other had noticed. How happy she was to be proven wrong. She was sure to hug Izuho tight and only laughed when her hair was ruffled in return with a wide hug and a smile.

Yuma graced her with a decent sized plushie of a rice ball with an adorably smooshed face. She squeezed the stuffed animal tight before darting over to do the same to Yuma. Unlike the plush which yielded softly within her grasp, Yuma went stiff and froze up. She felt a pull at her heart. His Dad died when he was eleven he said. He never spoke of his Mom but she clearly wasn't around. He was a very private person, so maybe he really never experienced these things anymore...

Once it was his birthday, she would have to spoil him then. In the mean time, such a thought made her clutch him all the tighter for a moment or two before logic got the better of her once more and she returned to her seat with a thankful laugh and the plushie in tow. She kept it within her reach the rest of the evening.

Osamu, true to form, got her a book.

Shiori also got her a book. She was sure to thank the pair profusely even if she couldn't promise that she would finish reading each tome cover to cover.
Wrapping paper was quickly compacted and bags folded away, the space was soon tidied up as though nothing had ever transpired. Shiori tucked the leftover cake in the fridge as Chika called out to the rest of the assembled crew.

"Thank you! Thank you all for doing this."

"Of course Chika, it's your birthday after all."

"Happy birthday Chika!"

"Thank you, thank. But even outside of today, and the party, the cake and the presents and the fun; getting to spend time with you all, getting to know everyone here has made me really happy. Thank you all for being here with me. I'm really happy to be a member of Tamakoma-2 and to be friends with you all!" She held back the water in her eyes but couldn't help the tremble to her lip. Some truths were inevitable.

"Same here, I'm super glad I got to know you too, Chikako. You make sniper training way more fun than it would be otherwise."

"While I cannot speak to training, I am glad you inspired us to form a team. I'm happy to be here to."

"It is true we may not be here now without you Chika."

"Ah, you guys, don't get all sad and sappy at the end, this was supposed to be a party, a party!" Shiori hurried over to stretch out Chika's cheeks, a gentle pull into a smile. She didn't resist really.

"Shiori is right, but if this was a real party, we should have had more snacks."

"We'll make sure there are only snacks at your birthday party then Yotaro." The operator ceased harassing Chika, whose smile had naturally returned, in favor of bonking Yotaro atop the helmet.

"Did you still want to hang out Chikako?"

"What?"

"I told you we could go to dinner or a movie or something after I finished with my obligation. I'd say we're about done here. So what do you want to do?"

"Well..." She drew her eyes across teh room. When she had proposed as much this morning it was simply with the intention of avoiding having to return home. She wasn't particularly fussy over what they ended up doing so long as she was away form there. In the past, she simply sought shelter at the nearly abandoned shrine. Now? With a room full of friendly faces? She absentmindedly stroked her new plushie as she thought through her perceived options.

"Why don't we watch a movie here? That way, we can all enjoy it!"

"Yay! Shiori make us popcorn!"

"Learn to say please Yotaro, and if you're going to propose an idea than you better help!" She dragged teh boy back towards the kitchen while Osamu smiled fondly, if somewhat nervously their way.

"You sure you don't want me to spoil you Chikako?"

"You've spoiled me enough already. I'm just happy spending time with everyone for now."

"If you say so..."

"Osamu, Yuma, any suggestions on what we should watch?" The two had been quiet. Not concernedly so, just a noteworthy amount. She suppose she could see why in either case though only vaguely.

"Nothing's coming to mind..." Osamu tilted his head while he thought. Chika knew this wasn't his forte but had been hoping to pull him into the conversation regardless.

Yuma only offered a shrug.

In the end, it felt as though they spent more time looking through and discussing options than watching stuff. Nevertheless, popcorn was prepared, thrown and consumed then prepared some more. She smiled the whole way through. Eventually Yotaro passed out and Shiori had to offer dinner to the prisoner downstairs after she put the boy to bed. The rest of the group walked Chika home to help her carry her haul. Thankfully, the hour was late enough that her parents should be pre-maturely tucked away into their independent evening routines.

~

Aside from training and rank wars prep Chika didn't spend too much time with Yuma one on one. Osamu was undeniably the glue which bound them together, he had orchestrated their meeting after all. Yet she thought fondly on the few instances they had spent in each others company.

The pair had just finished a morning defense duty shift. She was always thankful for a reason to get out of the house for awhile and the shifts tended to be great practice for hitting moving targets. It helped that she didn't have to worry about repositioning as much though she still planned escape routes had hopped around more than some of the other snipers on duty. She didn't doubt her seniors, but neither did she doubt her mentor.

"Hey Chika, there is something I have been meaning to ask."

Yuma walked beside her today, somehow more and less tense than their captain was the day before. She smiled at the red eyes nearly parallel to her own.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Well. I noticed that people cut up plants and stuff in Japan too. What meaning do they serve here? I understand the markets that sell plant carcass creations don't sell any plants that seem viable to eat, or safe to ingest at all really. What purpose do they serve then?"

"Y-Yuma... Where did that come from er- Sorry- Let me think... What exactly are you asking about...?"

"Ah. My apologies. I was being unclear. Chika, why do people on this side kill, buy, and sell flowers? What meaning do they have here?"

"Oh... Yuma you've...You've never given anyone a flower before? Or been given one yourself?" He raised an eyebrow through a magnanimous duck face.

"No? What for?"

"Oh... Well... Oh! Did you ever make a flower crown as a kid?"

"Even if I knew how, what would I do with that?"

"C'mon, what did you do with your friends then?"

"...What has that got to do with flower giving?" While his duck face remained fixed, a pout pulled at his lips. If Chika saw the shadows stretch she said nothing.

"Right, well, flower crowns are just plain fun to make. Go out to a field of flowers, pick all the ones you want and braid them together to make a crown. And you can wear it around. It's lot's of fun, we should all go some time!"

"But the flowers will wither. All that effort will go to waste."

"I don't think it's a waste. We get to carry the memories and moments together with us. I know that sounds really cheesy and lame, but I do think the little moments we set aside for people are some of the most important. Those are the ones I remember of my friend and brother at the very least."

Her loved ones that were taken... By neighbors. The fact that Chika had the wear with all to set her pain aside, that she chose to join Tamakoma despite having two precious people stolen by those from the other side... His teammates would always amaze him.

"I suppose you are right. Awful wise for your age Miss Chika."

"Not at all. To answer your question a but more though, people will give other flowers as presents, or leave them on graves."

"Graves..."

"Tombstones for the dead? In cemeteries where people are buried. What do you do when someone dies on the other side?"

He seemed a bit shocked that Chika was the one perpetuating the conversation about death rituals. They felt further from flowers than before.

"Depends on the place, as with most things."

"Some of them must have had flowers for funerals."

"Was that the practice of putting a body in a cemetery?" A fervent nod.

"Right. Burials are practiced in most places, although often times trion would be harvested before hand unless there was a law or religious belief forbidding such. I guess sometimes there were flowers there..."

"Hey, Yuma?"

"What is it?"

"You don't have to answer but- Well I was just wondering... Actually, never mind."

"Chika, you cannot just peak my curiosity and expect me to let it go." She shifted in a failed attempt to alleviate her nerves. She felt Yuma see her more than confirmed it herself, but it still made her a bit more aware whenever Yuma just saw straight through someone, especially when said someone was her. This wasn't a subject to be broached lightly however. She recalled the carved out look the boy had flung over his shoulder as soon as his father came up. That was the thing with Yuma, he was so vastly different in the most subtle of ways that one moment you were having a normal conversation and the next their was an experienced fighter from another dimension bringing up a morbid tradition or misunderstanding from taking things too literally. She thought the subject was one of light nature. When the opposite proved to be the case, she tried to inquire about the man's positive attributes; only to be met with a strange re-counting of 'a weird man's teachings'.

"Unless you really don't want to talk about it. If you're not comfortable-"

"I-It's the opposite actually. I'm afraid of making you uncomfortable but for a moment I got curious as well."

"You don't have to worry about something like that Chika." He waved her off with a laugh; eyes jammed shut and lips pouted out in a duck face.

"Ask away."

"Were there flowers at your father's funeral?"

"..."

Yuma faltered mid-step; not quite a pause but a stutter across his frame that made him seem all the smaller. He had loved his father. His father was a hole in his heart. She just wanted to understand why flowers seemed so strange to him but this had been an overstep on her part, a misunderstanding, a bridge beyond painful.

"I-I'm so sorry."

He was still moving but the motions were mechanical.

"I shouldn't have pushed."

His eyes belonged on a doll, dead as the were. She refused to be afraid of a part of her friend she asked to see.

"Please forgive-"

"There's nothing to forgive." Yuma's voice was steady. Indifferent. Red orbs flattened down failed to reflect anything. Stance sturdy.

"There was no funeral. We were in an active war-zone. My father lost his life on the battlefield. There was no body to bring back."

"I'm so sorry Yuma-"

"Please do not apologize. It is not your fault. Stuff just happens sometimes. We have to live with our mistakes and learn from them."

"Hm..."

"Hey Yuma?"

"What is it Chika?"

"I'm going to keep trying my best. We'll win the next rank battle for sure!"

"Yeah."

"Hey Yuma?"

"Yes Chika?"

"Will you come to a flower shop with me? I still need to do my Valentine's shopping. Hopefully they have something affordable left."

"I could always help if you require funds. Are you looking to get something Chika? How is Valentine's shopping different from the normal kind?" He blinked out a duck face while she smiled around the giggles that bubbled up her throat.

"It's shopping for Valentine's day. It's a holiday where people who like and care about each other give presents. If you're in a relationship with someone you go out on dates and stuff too. Normal gifts are red roses, chocolate candy, heart shaped stuff, it's like a holiday of love and appreciation."

"Hm... Cannot say I remember any celebrations about that sort of thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. There would be festivals of fertility or prayer for a bountiful harvest... Hm... Closest I can think of is a celebration for victory in battle. I saw quite a few of those; five or six of which were notable enough to recommend seeing if you get a chance."

"Ha ha, we'll have to ask for a detour on the away mission then."

"How are you planning to find a Valentine's gift in a plant store? Passing over a corpse doesn't seem very appreciative."

"Er- not when you put it like that, no. But flowers are meant to be symbols that you're thinking about the other person- er. something. Maybe that's only if you know their favorite flower. The idea is to show the other person that you care about them; you want to get them something they like. Some people say there's a language to flowers. I wanted to try going to a bouquet store and seeing if they had recommendations for flowers with certain meanings."

"Oh. So the corpse arrangers also serve as plant translators. How fascinating. Do they have some innate talent to commune with the plants or are they trained on how to use a special device? Is this another Japanese technology that doesn't require trion? Like electricity? A plant emoting converter?" Chika's smile felt like it would split her face. Yuma was so endlessly sweet when he let himself relax. The moments were rare, but if you could spark his curiosity enough his eyes would sparkle like a kid at the simplest things. She knew Osamu was at least as endeared by such behavior as her. She wished he would warm up to Shiori enough to show her too while wonders of whether or not Konami had seen this side of him bounced about.

"Unfortunately, I doubt it's anything near as exciting as that. We'll have to find out once we're there. Let's go Yuma. I need your opinion on ideas for Izuho!"

"Oh? Do you like Izuho?"

"Not in a romantic way; we're just friends. I still really appreciate her though and am thankful to have her around. So I want to get her a gift."

"You can give a friend a gift of love?"

"Of course! Everyone likes getting a gift. You should get something for Osamu!"
The suggestion sent roils of unease within her, however she wanted to support both her teammates in their endeavors.

"Eh? If I need to give him something I would rather put more effort into it. Like the flower crown. Though I doubt I have time to make one now..."

"Sure you can, it'll just take a bit of practice!"

"If you say so..."

"Compared to some of the things I've seen you do in the rank wars, this should be a piece of cake!"

"These are very different situations, but thank you for your confidence." The younger girl, who may or may not exceed him in height now, gently took his elbow and pulled him forward into a shop full of flowers and a fragrance that could be overpowered only by death.

~

Chapter Text

(Mixed =3=)

~

(Yuma)

Yuma sat stiff in an empty seat at the Tamakoma Branch's kitchen table. Dawn was more than a few hours passed yet most of the other agents and branch residents remained allusive. Which was fine for him of course, only that he tended to seek solace in distractions, especially as of late.

No distractions were awake yet. He sat at the kitchen table in preparation of their arrival. Osamu lived on base now; his routine could shift. He could crawl out from the quiet place he carved and start pretending to be a person again. Everything was fine. He would make the most of however much time he had left. That was always the plan. In the interim, his father's words haunted him. Echoes that slipped out in his attempts to placate Chika the other day.

"Chika has something she needs to share with you both; as her teammates." Prompted by her mentor's gentle, but insistent, tone the girl before them grew tense. The same way he would when his father stared through his lie. He could never deceive his Dad; rarely did he want to and the few times he tried he remembered viscerally. He tended to take a few days to recover after all.

"What is it Chika?" Osamu softened, slid into a seat across from her and stared towards her as though her soul would be soothed by his gaze alone. Had the roles been different, he himself would have found this strategy detrimentally effective. He abandoned his glass and joined his teammates in the room meant for living.

"But it's so easy..."

Reiji was quick to bat away his hopes of easing her tension. Such stiffness need not belong on Chika. Worrying was for Osamu. Fixing their problems was for him. Inspiring them to try hard enough for problems to emerge in the first place was Chika's role. He still didn't fully understand operators, but Shiori was quite knowledgeable, proficient with machines and willing to help.

"Not being able to shoot people is the normal, healthy, way to be." Yuma felt as though he'd been sucker punched. 'Never show an enemy weakness.' He refused to react. Reiji continued on.

"Just give yourself some time."

'What would one do to earn time?' He wondered. For he was provided little. A few weeks perhaps. Was that how much time would be allotted to Chika? What would befall her should she fail to meet this unstated deadline? He hoped beyond hopes she received an easier time than himself.

'It's easy to shoot people Yuma. You can't cry about it.'

'So easy to shoot people.'

'Get over it; it's either them or you and I can't lose someone else.'

'Get up Yuma, we don't leave until they're dead.'

'Shooting people is easy. Told you; you're a natural killer.'

Red.

'If you underestimate your enemy in battle-'

Red on his hands; Dad's trigger.

'-or overestimate your own strength-'

Red on his hands; blood.

'-then you will die Yuma.'

Whose blood?

'Promise you will survive no matter what.'

His own?

'No matter what.'

Or was it...?

'Shooting people is so easy, just pull the trigger.'

He shook his head frantically. A refusal to endure sights unseen. He struggled to force air through his facsimile of a throat. Wheezed against nothing. Overdramatic. He was being absurd. A lack of engagement was making him soft. He was used to having eyes locked onto the horizon, an enemy, a target. He felt adrift in the endless void. Before he had Replica, a voice to call out from the darkness. Now nothing remained but echoes of inadequacy in his head.

Words of warning to his captain, prophecies of his own shortcomings clawed at his mind as memories of words he heard on the wind, turned away or out of mind.

'I bet the white-haired one scores all their points.'

'If the little white-haired kid is the only one who can earn points, you'll never make it past B-Rank.'

'To be frank. You rely too much on Yuma Kuga.'

'They’ve got it all wrong!'

This is nothing. The lies, the blood, the ash, always, how could his body be unable to cry yet lets the stench of charred flesh through? Do they not realize this was nothing but fun? Free of death? Free of twisted expectations, the requests asked of him were reasonable and discipline for failure was non-existent, externally at least. In this strange realm Dad failed to boast, the atmosphere is so painfully, playfully, light that sometimes he can truly convince himself his smiles are real. If they don’t keep putting the pressure on him, he may forget altogether. What would he do if those lines got blurred? If those parts of himself that were carved away as a child were allowed to resurface, what would become of the warrior Yugo Kuga wasted his life for? Not wasted, Yugo never did anything without a reason. Yet he smiled; he was clearly mentally unsound at the end. When was the last time he saw a real smile from Dad? Did he smile for Mom? Was that yet another thing he stole through arrogant disobedience? What would happen if he de-compartmentalized the child part and the soldier part of his trion child soldier reality? The last five years would be meaningless should he succumb to the ease of peace times here. His edge in combat must only be honed sharper. For that end alone, he had not done nearly enough thus far. Too reliant on him? Too dependent? Sure he scored most of the points, but what did benchmarks matter when the real result was still-

"Yuma?"

"Ah. You’re early."

"Early? I’m actually a bit late for breakfast duty, I hope no one minds eggs again. How was your night?"

"Hm." He let the question hang, unwilling to bite back ash and smoke just for the sake of placating another person right now.

Absent of Replica's companionship at night, he had been finding grounding a far more substantial challenge then in the past. He was always awake, so the blur of talking to person to trion to trion to person in trion was reduced. He was told pretty quick that normal people don't talk to themselves, "that's not something we do here either, you'll attract attention if you're murmuring" Osamu's voice had been soft yet firm, derisive by virtue of a well-meaning parent rather than malicious actor. At the time, he had been uttering questions to Replica hidden by his collar but the sentiment stuck. Now his existence was one of talking to person to person in trion to person then silence. A clear divide between what was expected of people while he was made to do something different. Then, after the sun had returned, the world would gradually follow: a reawakening, a return of sound, an invitation for conversation. Yet with each day he found it took a bit longer to find his voice, to slip back into the space he so carefully crafted amongst his friends; he wasn't sure if all that was really his to claim. So some mornings, he kept words closer than others. Deep down he hoped someone could tell he was pulling away, but his true desire to remain un-bothersome would always outweigh whatever childish lures of comfort he fantasized.

"You're on defense duty tonight, right Yuma?" He saw Shiori go by earlier. He knew she was in the kitchen. There was no reason to tense up about it. He kept his eyes locked on the grains of wood on the table.

"Yes, with Karasuma, why do you ask?"

"Oh, just thinking about dinner, don't mind me."

"..." He fell back into silence once more. After a few seconds had buffered, he steeled his expression to neutral and dared a glance in the other's direction; eyes all periphery. Shiori was keeping to herself, opening cabinets, shuffling about metal saucers, though it seemed one was already in use. His mind spun for a few minutes scrambling for conversation starters that weren't Border related. His fellow agents dealt with that enough in their day to day. He noticed most of them preferred to keep conversations light or 'non-work' related at least around meal time. While this unspoken rule tended to crumble quick when they were busy with rank wars or training, which was most of the time, he still felt it safer to honor the silence than crack open a conversation about an undesirable topic. He slid down a bit more before his eyes snapped up at a familiar creak of the door.

"Yuma, Shiori, just the people I wanted to see!"

"Osamu..."

"Good morning Osamu, did you sleep well?" Shiori waved him over.

"Er mostly; more strange dreams but that's neither here nor there."

"Really? I'm always curious about others' dreams. Mine are usually pretty boring, just marmods in the office, or people standing in the middle of the aisle in the grocery store. But, like, a lot of people."

"Only one of those is normal, Shiori."

"Considering where we work?"

"I suppose that's true; how'd you sleep?"

"Like a log; thanks for asking!"

Yuma tightened his fingers into his palm. He hadn't thought of this stuff in awhile. His non-existent stomach roiled at the thought of dreams. Doubly so by his lack of consideration for their importance to those around him. Triply so for his cowardice as he knew their daily rituals by now. Asking after their sleep had always been one of those rituals. Just another piece he couldn't have. Had thrown aside out of arrogance.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask if you're willing to pick up cooking rotations? I know you've only just moved in but you seemed to settle pretty quick so..."

"I understand. It's only fair since I'm living under your roof now and you all have fed me so much already."

"Oh, stop that you."

"It is customary for military organizations to provide sustenance." Yuma finally worked up the courage to cut in. He still had to swallow down streams of smoke as his half-truth slogged out. Better to choke on his words than admit to the corrosive thoughts pointing and laughing in wonder that he, having been at the Tamokoma branch for a few weeks now to Osamu's couple of days, had never been added to or asked to partake in the cooking cycle.

"True, but that's a role typically reserved for chefs. Since we don't have a designated cook at hand it's only fair to take turns."

"That being said, I'll gladly enter the roster Shiori. Would you mind if I wait to start until tomorrow though?"

"I suppose, but why?"

"The thing is, I was hoping to get you're advice on an important conversation I need to have with someone."

"Oh~ An important conversation you say? Tell me all the details. Is it about 'you know who'?"

"Er! Maybe?"

'You know who?' Yuma cast another glance at the pair in the kitchen. Shiori just shy of frolicking in excitement whilst Osamu's cheeks sprouted buds of pinks. All he could do in the sudden presence of such flowers was blink.

"EEEEE! You're blushing! It's a yes! Are you going to confess? Do you know what you're going to wear?"

"Calm down please; yes. Hopefully? And no, I don't think it matters. I don't know what to say, how to care without being too much; this is embarrassing enough as it is."

"There's no such thing as caring too much. Besides, you do that all the time, for everyone really." 'It's one of the things I admire most about you.'

"Osamu is quite the knight in shining armor."

"Osamu never wear armor, it will only slow you down and could cause series injury in battle."

"Don't worry about that Yuma. What we need to be worried about is how our dear captain is going to share his secret with his special someone."

"Have you been keeping a secret Osamu?"

"No, not really."

"Osamu. This doesn't seem like a funny lie."

"Okay, well, the truth is I want to share my feelings with someone, before it's too late, so I'd like to do it tonight. Well as soon as possible really, but I don't think he'll be available until this evening. I'd like the extra time to get my thoughts a bit more in order anyways."

"You want to share your feelings with someone?"

"Y-Yep. I sure do..."

"Why do you sound so nervous then? You share your thoughts and feelings on things all the time. I quite enjoy hearing your view on things actually."

"Well that's nice of you, but most of the time it just feels like I'm tripping over my own tongue. Anyway, these are very specific feelings about a person that is really important to me. Someone whose inspired me to become a better version of myself, who I have fun talking with, about anything really so long as it's with him, someone who saved my life..."

'Wait, those are 'special' feelings? But that's how I feel about Osamu all the time... I knew those feelings were special to him but-' Shiori interrupted his thoughts with her soft tone and gentle smile.
"This is something you've been stewing on for awhile, why the sudden change of heart?"

"I can live with myself if the answer is 'no' but knowing I could have tried and didn't? I can't never carry on with a 'what if' hanging in the air. Ninomiya reminded me the status quo could change at any time. I need to know one way or another if my feelings are requited."

The world whooshed around Yuma at the weight of those words. Half his world was carefully 'constructed what-ifs'. Honestly, on his worse days, he believed the Trigger Dad left him to be little more than a reflection of his most childish desires. What if I was stronger? What if I was faster and could jump higher? What if the enemy never found me? Yet here Osamu stood. Proudly declaring the mere thought of entertaining such a fantasy when the real deal was within reach was absurd. Who was Yuma to do anything but support him in this endeavor?

"It sounds as though all you need is a method of attack. Got any suggestions Yuma?"

"Oh. Well, it's difficult to say without knowing who your opponent is."

"I can't tell you that. This is difficult enough with Shiori already knowing just- You'll know soon, alright? Please trust me?" For a second he raised an eyebrow. 'Why is Shiori let in on the secret and not me? Is there a chance it involves me somehow? Or that I would be able to extract too much information by knowing? Not that it mattered regardless. The lack of trust stung, but he trusted his captain's judgement above all else. In less than a second he was speaking once more.

"Always. As far as methods of attack are concerned, you are a great strategist already. I would like to say do not overthink it, but thinking is sort of all you do. So embrace that and trust in your skills. Your strategies have never led me astray."

"Thanks, Yuma. Did you have any suggestions, Shiori?"

"Oh plenty! But I like Yuma's advice. Just follow your heart Osamu. Even if you just repeat what you shared earlier, about this important person saving you, inspiring you, having fun with you. If things work out we'll be here to celebrate with you. If things don't work out we'll be here to support you. We're with you no matter what!"

"I completely agree, though this is starting to sound a bit high stakes for just a conversation. Or a mock battle; I'm a bit unclear on the arrangement. Is this person dangerous? There is nothing shameful about requesting reinforcements Osamu, it is important to know you're limits and act within them."

"Sound advice as always from our ace, if a bit literal. Still, he does have a point. Would you feel more comfortable with a wing man?"

"A bird person?"

"It's just a saying for someone who has another person's back, though usually in conversation with someone you're trying to pursue a romantic relationship with."

"Oh? So birds are involved in courting rituals in Japan?"

"Courting? Now you sound like a knight Yuma."

He couldn't help but frown a bit; head pitched slightly to the side. 'But it's light outside?' Also, what about birds made them romantic, or desirable to a potential partner? Were wings some sort of symbolic delicacy here? The time element was odd too; though Osamu had implied the soonest he could speak with his 'important person' about this was tonight. Stars were far more prevalent on this side, maybe their rituals and culture reflected such.

"And I appreciate the suggestion Shiori, but this is something I should do for myself."

"Understood. Though I do think we should circle back around to what you're going to wear."

"Why, is there something wrong with what I normally have on?"

"Not at all, just a thought. Did you want to help me with breakfast?"

"Sure, my pleasure. What about you Yuma?"

"I do not see anything wrong with what you normally wear either, most of your outfits suit you quite well." 'Though Shiori was half-lying, maybe she's stingy about fashion?'

"Ah- Thanks, I guess, but I meant did you want to help us prepare for breakfast?"

"Oh... Sure, thanks. What are we making?"

"Omelets for all!"

Yuma was ultimately shooed away to set the table rather than hovering. Rindo and Yotaro were already busy with 'personal matters' and Reiji wouldn't return from defense duty until later; Shiori set aside their portions for later along with Jin's who was absent but unaccounted for. Their operator seemed unconcerned as she waved as much off saying he would pop back up sooner rather than later. The three settled into stilted conversation, mostly spearheaded by Shiori. Though Osamu did bring up more upcoming plans.

"I'll be getting lessons from some A rank shooters tomorrow, so I asked Branch Chief Rindo to give me a ride with him to HQ."

"Oh! May I join you? Some solo sparring would-"

"Kuga, you just bombed all of your mid terms. It's been long enough where you can no longer use transferring as an excuse. I really think you ought to focus on your studies. Go to class, we can rendezvous here with Chika later to talk strategy."

He refused to pout. Refused. He stilled all the same. A tension creeping up as he felt the normalcy of what would be knots between his shoulder blades but instead settled as an airy weight more within than without.

"I could also ask Reiji bring you to HQ with Chika? He was going to pick her up for sniper training."

Shiori sung out an ulterior path forward. 'Thank you Shiori.' He let slip a smile. Food still did not settle right in his trion torso.

"He'll be picking her up right after lunch. Your worst subject is world history followed closely by arithmetic; both of which are after we eat."

He neither looked at his captain nor played with his food, duck face on. School got dull really quick. While he was surrounded by other people, generally a plus as even if he was forced to solitude he could always people watch, this also meant he must remain guarded. Not to mention, people his age who were native to Japan were so far removed from himself that he often only felt the differences. He made sure to maintain appearances, if only so as not to cause more undo concern for his captain and maybe boost his friend's reputation a bit.

"I'm sure school isn't so bad Yuma. It must be nice being able to stay in one school for a change, you used to move around a lot, yeah?"

Osamu looked his way but ultimately said nothing. He thought as much was for the best.

"Yeah." He felt the weighted eyes of expectation fall upon his pile of falsified flesh. Rot. The same swayed gazes that scooped him out and sold him off for secret maneuvers and side politics while he offered his father's body to battle. He really had nothing else to say on the matter. He would try to study more world maps. For his captain.

"... We can all just go to HQ after lunch today. School is important but our real goal is the away mission. Our next opponents for the rank wars are tough so sharpening our skills is always a good idea."

"Understood, captain!" Osamu sighed into his drink but seemed a bit more relaxed than earlier. Maybe worries about his upcoming talk were wearing him down. If only Yuma brushed against other skills along his paths besides bloodshed. He withheld a wince. The truth was he had. Spells of wonder and gravity defiance, triggers of rain and lightning, trion devices for sending videos between users across nations. He smelled wonderous foods, saw people dance on civilian days of rest or fall drunk in the streets as they held no other obligations and a willingness to indulge. What beckoned someone to take a break? To be worthy of stopping a trudge? A rest in the shade, while wonderful, was frivolous at most. What he wanted was beyond the bend of possibility for himself.

He side-eyed Osamu, similarly lost in his head. Yet there was a nature of shyness that permeated from whatever place his head occupied. A faint buzz that betrayed itself in a blush, in the dance of his fingertips against the tabletop. Osamu was all tells all the time and he loved him for it. No.

No. No. No. He couldn't. Certainly not. So then why was Osamu trying to...?

~

(Osamu)

The school day dragged on incessantly. He tried to focus: to take notes the best he could, to still his jumping leg, to not space out when Izuho ranted at lunch about some show she was catching up on. His efforts felt to be in vain. Doubly so when Kuga called him out on the way back to their branch.

"Is everything okay, Osamu? You seem especially thoughtful today."

"Er- Everything's-" He side-eyed Yuma's frown and sighed.

"I'm just thinking over what we discussed this morning..."

"Oh. You mean the conversation stuff?"

"Well, there's a bit more to it than that, but essentially yeah... I just can't figure out what to say. I keep playing hundreds of scenarios over in my head but none of them feel right to me."

"Sounds like our captain."

"C'mon Kuga, not now."

"What? With all your pondering, I am certain you will reach a satisfying answer in no time. You always do."

"I don't think that's the case at all, not to mention that right now, I'm only acting as myself; a fifteen year old, B rank Border agent, about to start high school. The person I mean to confess to is... So much more."

"What do you mean 'only'? Your self is amazing! There really is nothing you need to worry over. I am certain that the one you share these feelings with will simply be happy to receive them."

"I wouldn't be so sure... This person is incredibly talented after all... I'm not sure what I have to offer them... Gah! I really don't have time to be worrying about this, but I don't know what else to do with these feelings; it's so distracting."

"You cannot allow emotions to cloud your judgement Osamu; such will lead to weakness in battle."

"Despite how I'm feeling, I doubt confessing my feelings to someone constitutes a real battle."

"What happened at the press conference, was that a battle in your eyes?"

"...I see your point, but this is different."

"How so?"

"What do you mean how so? It's- This is about..." He trailed off as his mind spun back to the meetings with Border's directors and the strange predatory sense that trickled from their words.

"Understand? All interactions could be considered a fight in one way or another, that is why information is so powerful and thus coveted. Sharing such a large weakness with the one you are most vulnerable towards? I struggle to imagine a higher form of trust. As long as you share words which ring true to you, there is nothing you should fear or worry about, you know?" His smile was easy, amber eyes steady. He could feel the confidence that Yuma carried. The surety he held in his words right here; right now.

The assuredness with which he spoke in the present made him cast doubt on the smiles and soft words that Kuga had carried out recently. Compared to the vibrancy he currently exuded, there was a dullness to the Kuga in his memories as of late. He shook his head as his friend broke eye contact and continued on. A trick of the light. Kuga just caught him off guard with his enviable levels of skill, knowledge, confidence. Not that he flaunted as much. If Kuga wasn't caught in the body of an elementary school kid, or had any inclination towards romance whatsoever, Osamu was certain he would not be having nearly as much trouble as himself. Then again, imagining the agent in a non-combat setting was always a bit odd. Most days it seemed as though Kuga was made with one purpose in mind; more machine than boy... He had essentially just confessed to viewing the world as a battle... They truly were fortunate that he was so easy-going.

Osamu sighed. This was all a distraction. How was he supposed to share the stockpile of assorted feelings boiling within him? All the thoughts that threatened to burst from his skin if he did not give voice to them soon. Better to have this talk with intention then let something slip accidentally. How the other reacted was beyond his control; which was why he was so obsessed with ironing out every aspect of how to deliver this news.

"Yes, but while I understand your point rom earlier most people aren't out to get you, they just don't think that way. Not everything is a battle, Kuga. This is a matter of the heart. You were onto something about the vulnerability thing though... I cannot imagine this person ever making a mean face, but I still want to get this right."

"You got this!" He couldn't bring himself to refute the boy's confident smile so he simply smiled himself and sunk back into his thoughts. His friend didn't push.

Thankfully, they reached the branch sooner rather than later. Much as he appreciated his friend's presence and persistent encouragement, he couldn't help but find it fake at times. The sincerity with which he would whip out compliments was daunting to say the least, if a bit unnerving given the piercing nature of his eyes. He knew his own short-comings however and there were quite a few. While he knew from Replica that Yuma himself hated lies, for obvious reasons, Osamu couldn't help but carry doubt whenever his friend insisted that he was amazing, or smart, or talented or- Those were all words for Jin. Adjectives reserved for the elite.

He quickly retreated to his room, saying he would watch some match logs. Which he did, sure. Old ones of him messing up. He could have got a clean hit on Nasu. Was there a way to win one over on Suwa at the end that didn't require the use of Yuma as bait? That was not a tactic he dared employ again since Kuga was currently their linchpin to success in the combat department.

Part of him bemoaned the fact that he agreed to help Kuga study over the weekend while another part of him was glad that the Neighbor could at least be coerced into treating school somewhat seriously. He may or may not have been roped into getting a new kind of food for Kuga to try. He was probably just going to pick out a bunch of candy bars the day of and call it there. Kuga didn't seem to have much experience with candy.

What he really wanted was advice for this conversation. All his friends were equally experienced as him however; which was to say not at all. Shiori had provided all she could already. He was tempted to ask Karasuma for his advice, but bothering his mentor over non-Border issues didn't feel right. Between his status as an A-rank agent, additional duties around Tamakoma branch and his constant rotation of part-time jobs, he couldn't bring himself to ask his mentor.

He paused the video on the Branch device, he hadn't been watching anyway, and rose with a sigh and a stretch to slide open the door. Another set of gentle taps were rapping up as he reached the entrance. He looked out into the wood laden hall only to glance down at his two teammates. Kuga wore a duck face while Chika waved. If he was being honest, he was uncertain which of them had knocked.

"I'm heading back home for the evening and Yuma has defense duty; do you want to walk with us?"

"That's okay, I should probably keep studying the logs..."

"Why keep your actions secret Osamu?" 'Right- Lie detector.' It wasn't as though he forgot his friend was armed with a side effect so much as he never had a reason to be dis-honest with him before. A trend he preferred to keep up as much as humanly possible.

"I'm still thinking over this talk..."

"It will all work out Osamu."

"Yeah, just share whatever's in your heart! We're here for you no matter what!"

"Thanks guys, I appreciate the support. I just want to get this over with so I can focus on our goal again."

"The away mission is important, but it isn't everything. We should take time for ourselves when we can; that's what Kizaki told me. You always work really hard Osamu... I hope this works out for you!"

"Thanks for your support; I'll see you guys tomorrow. Be safe on your way home."

"See ya, captain."

"Good night Osamu, best of luck!"

~

(Chika)

In the absence of their captain, Yuma took it upon himself to walk Chika home safely on his way to defense duty. A task he had increasingly been fulfilling since Osamu's recent move into the branch himself.

"What's going on Chika? You seem extra bouncy."

"Can you blame me? You said Osamu went to you and Shiori for advice this morning."

"Yeah, Osamu does that often; Shiori is a wonderful resource for all things Border tech and trigger related. I like to think I am not a half bad resource when it comes to combat. And Osamu is an incredibly skilled and resourceful tactician; he gladly uses whatever is available to him."

"You're not wrong, but this wasn't advice for our team or a Rank War, was it?"

"Hm... He was quite insistent that he needed to have a conversation with someone as soon as possible. He wanted advice on... How to approach that person I suppose? To be honest it was a bit confusing, Shiori seemed to have a better idea of what he was looking for. She seems the better person to ask about these sorts of things..." Yuma said with a soft, almost sorrowful, smile quickly swept away by his patented duck face once the subject ventured from their captain.

Chika cast a glance at her, now definitively shorter, friend. Yuma always had a quiet sort of confidence about him. He was hardly ever flashy or arrogant but neither was he withdrawn or submissive. He was steady. An unchanging undercurrent in their team. Yet ever since Replica was lost she got the sense sometimes his smiles came in waves. A rotating wheel of realness. Sometimes she felt his steadiness and the surety of his smiles were transient, not weak per say but fleeting, especially on days when they were a bit slower to come. Something she only saw a couple times, glimpses and speculation more than signs. She would never dare confront him about it. Though she got the sense as they all shared a certain stubbornness as teammates, that they also shared suspicions about each others' problems.

"I'm sure you helped a lot more than you realize; Osamu values your opinion a lot as a friend Yuma."

"Hm... Did he ask for your advice about this too, Chika?"

"Nope; he didn't have to though. By his spaced out look and the blush on his face when I asked what he was thinking about." Her own laughter cut her off; light as bells.

"Do you know who this person is then? This person important to Osamu?"

"I do indeed. You know him too Yuma. Quite well in fact. I think you'll be pleased when you hear the news; assuming he feels the same."

"And what do you suppose Osamu will tell this person, exactly?"

"Whose to say for sure, confessions are quite personal in nature. As curious as we may be, that conversation is best left between the two of them. But he asked you for strategy Yuma. You probably have a much better idea than you think. Were there any comparisons or opening lines that came up?"

"There was something about a shiny night? Do you think it has something to do with the moon? Maybe that was why he had to wait until tonight..."

"A shiny night? ...Oh! You mean a knight in shining armor?"

"Well, yeah, that was the specific phrasing spoken, but I told Osamu not to wear armor; such is largely a hindrance in combat."

"Ha ha ha, no Yuma, it's a metaphor, or maybe an analogy, actually? Basically, if someone is called 'a knight in shining armor' it means they tend to come to the rescue of others and they hold themselves to a strict moral code, ideally one of justice and heroism. The embodiment of chivalry."

"Sounds like Osamu. What does that all have to do with a bright night?"

"Well it's not night as in the evening after dark. It's knight with a 'k'. In a different part of the world a long time ago there were these people called knights. They rode horses into battle, wore armor, fought with swords, but they were also considered heroes who protected people, especially young ladies. To be honest, I'm not sure how historically accurate that is, but that's the general idea most people think of or heard in stories. Osamu could probably give you a better explanation, honestly."

"I see. Armor with a mounted steed does overcome a lot of the drawbacks so long as the creature does not fall in battle. Sword fighting while mounted though? Hm..."

"The fighting was your biggest take away then...?"

"Uh- Of course not. Thank you very much for the explanation Chika. Those morals and attributes do sound quite like Osamu. If he had a mount I do not doubt he would be constantly busied helping those in need. Being the kind of guy he is."

Chika's smile softened. She couldn't help it when Osamu was able to break through even the boy's seemingly insurmountable desire to fight.

"You think really highly of him, don't you?"

"Well of course! He would go to the wall and back for us; well anyone in need, really."

"Guess it's my turn to ask; What do you mean 'to the wall and back'?"

"Oh, it was just a saying in one of the places I stayed before. The essence of it is a soldier willing to do anything to reach the wall, to return something precious to a comrade, or valuable intel to a commander, sometimes even a keepsake to a loved one. They allow nothing to come between them and their goal, no challenge could be greater than their desire to succeed. Once their mission is complete however, they are duty bound to return to the front line. To carry on with only the completion of the mission in their heart. To the wall and back. Eh, Chika are you alright? What's with that expression?"

"No, nothing-" At Yuma's scowl she was quick to stumble toward an explanation.

"Just that I never expected you to be so philosophical, no offense, but you're usually quite literal. I was just surprised, but pleasantly so! I'm glad you're expanding your roof time to thinking of more than just fighting." Yuma paused slightly with a faint frown.

"What's wrong with thinking of fighting? It's called strategizing and we do it together for hours all the time as a team. Not to mention the saying is quite literal. It was more common than not for someone to have to go to the wall and back; be it on behalf of a commanding officer or circumstance. Still, the sentiment, while a bit confusing, stuck with me."

"Maybe it applies to you too then."

"To me?"

She smiled, borderline exasperated, but only ever fondly.

"Yes you. Is there anyone you'd want to go back to the wall for?"

"Osamu."

They both blinked. A reflex more than response; too fast.

"And you too Chika. I'm thankful we all met and were able to form a team. Jin, Konami, Shiori, and the other members of Tamakoma, I'm thankful to all of you. I would gladly go to the wall and back for any of you really."

"Thank you Yuma, I feel similarly. I'm very thankful that you and Replica helped me and pushed me to join Border in a combat capacity. Sometimes, for as well-meaning as he is, Osamu can be... A bit over-protective maybe? I'm not complaining or anything. I'm so grateful that he cares and has my best interests in mind- Just sometimes it seems he wants to shoulder more of the burden himself than he needs to."

She finished her admittedly long winded explanation expecting to be met with understanding. Instead she saw her friend despondent. Red eyes vacant. Lips pulled down. Shoulders slouched. He looked as though gravity suddenly started effective him fifty times more than everyone else and sucked his vitality. Was that something she did? Something she said? Had yet another person been hurt because of her?

Before she could say anything one way or another, a cough carried itself out from somewhere in the boy's chest. The action, and sounds, snapped his eyes shut and returned her to the present. She reached her hands out, wanting to help but unwilling to risk making things worse somehow.

"Are you alright? Did you catch a cold?"

"I'm fine."

His voice had a sudden rasp however and he had to wheeze out a few more coughs before he cleared his throat proper.

"Nothing to worry about." Yuma smiled and cleared his throat one last time. His voice returned to normal.

"Nothing at all."

~

(Jin)

The self-proclaimed elite dragged himself through the halls, only bothering to put pep in his step when he neared the doorway to the branch's kitchen. And unfortunately, for his timing, the living room. Fifty fifty he would be alone. This was why he meddled; luck had never kept company with him.

Konami idly bounced her feet, flung as they were over a cushioned chair's armrest, as she tapped away at her smart phone.

"Evening Konami, kind of late to be hanging around."

"I live here half the time; what's odd is you wanting space."

"Ah." Tamakoma-1 was catching on. This did not bode well for him; he sensed an upcoming conversation with Reiji. His current actions would be a give away regardless. He busied himself with setting up the kettle anyway. As his silence prevailed Konami looked over his way. Shadows slid over her eyes before she quickly looked back down at her phone.

"Headed to the roof soon?"

"Sure am. Seems someone needs to have a chat with me. I just want to relax a bit before then."

"...If you say so." They fell into an amicable quiet while he waited for the water to boil. Konami cut in once again before said point was reached.

"Yuma said he made it to defense duty."

"Oh?" That hardly seemed relevant, wait-

"Wait how would you know?"

"Um, he texted me? Obviously."

"Obviously? Since when has he had a cell phone?" And why did he not think to help set that up for him sooner?

"He and Osamu kept badgering me with questions so I got Rindo to help him get one. If he has a question he can look it up online like everyone else."

At Jin's lack of response, she looked up with a raised brow.

"What? Aren't you glad he has a means of actually communicating with us now? It was getting kind of annoying having him be late all the time." A stone settled in his stomach. Ever since Replica departed, Yuma had been silently trying to coordinate meetings and locations, dates and times. Everyone did that, a normal expectation yet; did Yuma even know how to read an analog clock? He was still so new to this world and got lost easily in Headquarters. He had no way to get in touch with anyone. 'I completely forget Replica must have been in charge of all this too...' Yuma had been left to flounder for weeks. Why had he not said anything? While he hid his thoughts and feelings as most did their darkest secrets, Yuma was generally forthcoming when he was confused or needed clarification on something. At this point, he'd clearly managed to adapt but the fact he left the boy to drown in all this while he was grieving didn't sit right with him.

"Maybe I'm just wounded he hasn't shared his number with me yet."

His attempt at a joke hit the wall of Konami's serious face.

"Do whatever you want Yuichi. I've made it clear that I despise your scheme-based way of doing things. Everything always turns out fine, and I trust you to keep everyone's best interests at heart. But I know something weird is going on with you, Yuma, and Osamu. Yuma will be fine, but Osamu can be a bit delicate. Just be careful with their feelings okay? Avoiding them isn't really an option, especially since they both live here now. Whatever hang up you have get over it already. I texted you Yuma's number. Don't be a stranger to them alright? I've seen you around the prisoner who hates you more than the team you recruited."

Who was he to refute the truth of such a claim? The kettle cried out.

Neither seemed to have much to say after that, but he refused to bring further validity to her earlier observation of his distance. The scab Tachikawa kept picking at. He knew. He knew this couldn't carry on but-

"How does it feel to be a mentor?" Jin asked while mixing his drink.

"A total drag. At this point, he's too strong for B rank but still too weak to beat me in a ten round match. Not that I would ever let him."

"Hm... And what do you guys talk about?"

"Huh? Hardly anything, we meet up, we fight, we go our separate ways. I agreed to mentor him, not babysit."

"No, but you can still ask how someone's day has been. I hear Torimaru and Four-eyes will talk tactics and strategy constantly."

"Because he doesn't know anything. Kyosuke wonders how he even made B-rank at times with his lack of combat skills, he needs all the help he can get."

"Chika and Reiji talk too."

"Yeah, 'cause she's a kid with no battle experience. Honestly, Jin, I'm not sure what you're expecting. Yuma and I are both tough fighters. We're straightforward and strong; we don't have to worry about all that cerebral stuff, let alone small talk." He stilled. Yuma seemed to thrive off mis-direction and mind-games. He and Konami had been sparring constantly for weeks, there was no aay she wasn't privy to his sneaky tactics at times. Her words hardly matched what he had seen of the kid's combat so far. Every move he took seemed calculated, pre-planned, meticulously executed. Much like himself. Too much like himself.

"...If you say so. Sleep well, Konami." Having tidied up his limited mess and prepared his soothing concoction, he once again filed from the room.

"Same to you, Yuichi."

He pushed his way through the roof's door. The sight of stars was a welcome one.

Contrary to popular belief, not much was told to Yuichi Jin. Over the years he learned how to ask the right questions, and to whom, but initially he had to learn to listen. He found pretty quickly most words went unspoken. Often the most important conversations could happen without talking at all. While a powerful tool he abused often, much could be lost in translation as a result of un-solidified context. He also had a tendency to throw around the power elite card a bit too hard on his rough days. While infatuation wasn't ideal, it was tolerable within reason. He clutched the ceramic blue handle of his steaming mug of hot chocolate. Tamakoma tradition. He knew a line would be crossed here. He saw a solid idea of how too. Even still, he wanted to maintain hope he was wrong. This timeline had a rather low probability so he hadn't much bothered to investigate the repercussions. Nor had he been able to. In truth, his side effect could, and often did, span for years when people droned about with similar tasks and schedules day to day. For those with more unpredictable tendencies or carriers, things got a bit more risky. A bit more wild. The farthest he'd ever been able to see into Yuma's future was five months. Ever since he'd shown up futures had been on a spin tale trajectory in ways he had never dared imagine. It was overwhelming and inspiring and devastating. Tachikawa held him down sometimes. Most times now they were able to fight things out in a booth.

His first reason for giving up his Black Trigger was for the future of Border as Mogami spoke of it; the remnants that were Tamakoma. His will was stronger than his now seemingly immortalized body.

The second reason was for Yuma. He had seen it in the boy's eyes in all his visions of him, yet never truly understood the depth of the boy's hollowed out doll look until he described his own un-death clinically. He deserved to have someone look out for him, to have some fun if that was truly all he wanted. What he really deserved was to live and have a strong support network in a flesh and blood body but he wasn't sure the boy would want to even wish for such as he was now... And those futures could be death-inspiring to the brightest of souls for how arduous and unlikely the road to recovery was for him. Not to mention, were he poked and prodded in the wrong places when Border first engaged with him, the damage could have been catastrophic. Yuma did not come across as a violent person by nature, but he never seemed to take anything lying down either; always waiting for a fight. He wasn't quite afraid of the boy, he knew much of the destruction he saw was wrought by the inherent power of a black trigger, he would be lying if a good chunk of that second part involved protecting Border as well.

The third reason he let Headquarters have Fujin in name and possession was so he could return to A-rank and fight Tachikawa again. Spending time with him, while more dangerous at HQ, was far more convenient than the sneaking around they'd been forced into the years following his shift to S-Rank. What a wonderfully horrible time. Speaking of-

Jin took another sip of his drink. He wanted to relish the warmth a bit longer. Instead, he stared at his reflection trapped within the mug while he prematurely mourned the absence of steam his side-effect detected come the conversation's end.

Whatever suddenly needed to be shared, he hoped the other would show up to spill sooner rather than later.

~

(Osamu)

Love wasn't a word Osmau weighed lightly. Love was what his father said to his mother on their wedding day. She had only shown him that video once. He wasn't dead; simply gone. Love was what his mother said to his father the day he left. He did not abandon them necessarily. He claimed he was supporting them. He left for work after all. A well paying job, an up-standing business man, respected, successful. The job was overseas. He doesn't think of his dad often. His mother would speak of him on occasion. They call one another fairly often. He only speaks to his father twice a year. His father will call and wish him a happy birthday and he returns the favor a few months later. They will paint in broad strokes the shape of their lives in that moment, wish the other well and then not speak for another eight months.

Osamu never mourned the loss until his grades began to slip. There were a few subjects he just couldn't grasp and try as he might, he wasn't sure who to ask for help. He never needed any in the past. His mother had a full time job all her own on top of packing his meals and taking care of the house; he couldn't burden her. He dare not ask his classmates. He was never bullied per say but he never really fit in either. A fly on the wall. The kid in the corner with his head in book. Everyone knew his name but none would approach. He wasn't sure what invisible wall people had formed around him, but if even his father had left, maybe it wasn't just his classmates. He didn't resent his father. His father had never helped him with studies in the past and of the few friends that faded in and out of his life none had ever accredited their academic success to the presence of their father. He would figure it out on his own. Determined to find his own path he silently suffered for months until his mother pulled him aside one day to inform him she found a tutor. He was livid. Furious. How dare she.

His tutor's name was Rinji Amatori.

The same name as his first love.

There were words, once, that may have been able to describe the sort of feelings that emerged at the mere mention of the other. Osamu had to lock those feelings away the day he failed. Of course Rinji had a plan to help his little sister. As soon as he'd shared Chika's worries with him, he should have known something was to come. Rinji never did anything 'just because'. So why did he tell Osamu the wrong day? On his way to the most likely rendezvous spot within the Forbidden Zone he was attacked. Not a soul in sight. He expected to die. Jin saved him instead. A blue spark, wild, brazen; his hero.
Once Rinji was confirmed missing, he tried to seal that part of his heart away in relegation to protecting Chika. An ambitious yet achievable goal. He passed Border's entrance exams, if only just, convinced his mother to sign the forms, if barely, and trained diligently as often as he could; though group training wasn't held often and he never had much luck with the solo booths. If he couldn't protect the person he owed everything to, he would protect the person they cared about. This was the least he could do. Protect her in the same way he protected Osamu. Help everyone in the same way he helped Osamu. Except at some point, the 'him' idolized in Osamu's head had shifted form from Rinji to Jin. Jin who saved his life from a trion soldier. Jin who had offered a guiding example when he lost Rinji. Jin who remembered him...

The door to Tamakoma's rooftop creaked open.

He was breath-taking beneath the night sky, jaw jutted out by the light spilled from the doorway, blue jacket barely moved by the same breeze that bounced his chestnut locks. The stars as a backdrop for his entire existence. He wasn't sure he could ever not lose his breath by sight of the man who saved him.

"Jin."

"Hey there Four Eyes. Congrats again on your win against Suzunari-1 and Nasu squads; that was some clever planning on your part."

"Thank you, but it was the only thing I was actually able to manage. Despite everyone's valuable teachings I wasn't really able to do much by myself."

"Nothing wrong with learning from your mistakes and trying to improve; but denying a compliment could set a bad president for your teammates; they look up to you. Who says you have to do things on your own?"

"Well, a lot of agents actually, have been saying for a while that I cannot rely on Kuga alone. I always knew we would have to build strategies around him; he's a skilled combatant and Chika and I lack the necessary experience independently so we're relying on Kuga. And he's willing to offer his skills."

"How do you feel about that arrangement?"

"Thankful to Kuga, of course, but also horrible."

"Because you feel bad for Yuma or because you want to be recognized as a threat independent of your teammates?"

"I- That's... Both I suppose."

"Would Yuma appreciate pity?"

"No. Yuma is strong. He doesn't need our help, but we cannot survive without him. As things stand if he goes down so do we. That being said, I do have a few ideas in mind of things to try for the upcoming match."

"Come to ask how those ideas pan out? I can't be giving out insider info to just anybody Four Eyes."

"No, I'd never ask you to do that... Your Side Effect is truly amazing, but I imagine it's an incredible burden to carry. Like Yuma's."

"Yuma has a side effect?"

"He didn't tell you...? He can tell when we're lying. According to Replica it's really sensitive too; he can even distinguish half lies, half truths, and when information is being with-held."

"Hm..." Osamu, while a bit surprised, pushed that aside for later. He came here for a reason. A purpose.

"Given your side effect, I figured it was better to be honest and speak my mind as soon as possible." He came to set the words within him free.

"Jin I..." He wanted his feelings to be known; they had grown far too large to handle by himself.

"Jin I think I'm in love with you!" He wanted to say that he finally understood what love meant; but only when graced by the presence of the other.

"Whoa, Four Eyes, I'm flattered, but where is this coming from?"

"Initially, I aspired to be more like you. You're approachable and strong. Whenever you enter the room, the whole place lights up. You have this way with words... You saving me inspired me to join Border. I know I'm by no means unique in that way, but ever since I couldn't help but be reminded of your strength. Your grace, in and out of battle, and all the different forms of fighting you're able to seamlessly navigate. You always act with everyone's best interest in mind. You move with your heart, a skill that continues to inspire me every day. I like you, Jin. Alot... Almost more than to go on the away mission, I wish to be someone close to you. If... If you'll allow me the opportunity, I would be honored if you would accompany me to the movies- Or something..."

"Well said, Four Eyes."

"Does that mean-?!"

"Not so fast. I deeply appreciate the sentiment, Osamu. I'm honored that you trust me enough to share such feelings with me and I respect your willingness to be vulnerable. However, I simply don't feel that way about you. Sorry."

"No, no! I'm the one who should be apologizing! I made things super weird!"

"You did absolutely nothing wrong, Four Eyes. The heart wants what it wants. I'll always support people pursuing their dreams too. Those can just get a bit tricky soon as other people get involved. I care about you Osamu, not just as a valuable agent but as a friend. You're a member of Tamakoma branch now and we take care of our own. But I cannot return your feelings. It would be disingenuous and unfair. I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course, obviously, there's nothing to forgive Jin! Everyone is entitled to their own feelings and anyway, I only asked to find out if we're on the same page or not. We aren't so I'll let it go. No worries at all!"

"You don't have to force yourself Osamu; I'm not your teammates."

"...What?"

"You're allowed to be upset you know. It's reasonable to have expectations and to be frustrated when they don't manifest in reality."

"I guess. But the same could be said about you. It must be frustrating to find out your student has these sorts of feelings about you..."

"Please, a powerful elite like me? Sorry Four Eyes, but I'm aware I attract a lot of attention, this sort of thing was bound to happen eventually. Your mentor has it rough; he's got a pretty large 'fanclub' to contend with way more regularly. I respect how brave you are for telling me. I cannot, however, change my answer. I hope you understand."

"Yes, I do; understand that is. Um, Jin, one last question, if that's alright?"

"Shoot Four Eyes."

"Was there ever a future, where my feelings were requited...?"

"...Not from me I'm afraid but yes, there are several. In fact, most are yet to come. You're only fifteen Four Eyes, you still have a lot to learn and more growing up to do but never doubt the progress you've made or the man you've become."

"I see; thank you very much."

"You gonna be okay, Osamu?"

"...Yes. Maybe not right away, and maybe not even soon, but eventually. I won't let this distract me from our upcoming rank war either."

"Glad to hear, don't be afraid to take some time for yourself when you need to though."

"M... Yeah."

I know it doesn't really change anything, but if you wanted a few days to yourself, just say the word. I'll happily pick up an extra cooking shift or two for my mentee."

"Oh... Yes that probably would be better. Thank you very much, Jin."

"Take care of yourself agent Four Eyes."

"Thank you, sir, same to you. Good night."

"Good night."

~

(Jin)

The door creaked closed. Fifty fifty shot Osamu was already on his way home. Ninety percent chance Jin was now on breakfast duty. He took a sip of his, as confirmed, cold chocolate and sighed. Worse than he thought with no warmth remaining. Despite his kind words, his lack of response had been worrisome. Osamu was rather inexperienced compared to some of his peers but generally stayed steadfast and true to heart. He embodied the 'spirit' Tachikawa so vehemently denied. To see him so down was worrisome. There was nothing in his near future too bothersome however. After a heavy dose of teen angst and likely a fair share of bemoaning his own name, Jin foresaw a speedy recovery.

Osamu would be okay. Jin would be too after he caught Tachikawa up; and endured the man's surefire storm of laughter. His partner would help smooth over the worried ruffles within his chest. Logically this changed nothing. Osamu asked a question, he said no, that was that. So why did he get the feeling this was so much more than he thought? Why was he feeling the earth move beneath him in the way the world shifted futures unseen from his field of view? He would be busy the next few days checking in on everyone again. He couldn't afford to waver here. One last sip of his drink.

Cold bit his throat and he nearly choked. He remembered at least one reason for continued concern. He eyed the ledge beneath the cloudy sky, thankful Tamakoma's resident roof ornament was trapped on defense duty. At least he had missed that awkward conversation. Thank God for silver linings. The roof door creaked shut behind him as he fished out his phone and retreated to his rice cracker lair.

~

(Yuma)

Defense duty lasted longer than expected. He hoped Osamu hadn't had to stay up for too long. The base was dark, empty, deserted. Every member tucked out of sight or away in their own homes with families elsewhere. Distantly his chest twinged but he pushed that aside in favor of chasing the fluttery feeling he felt since Osamu spoke with him this morning. Or yesterday morning he supposed. Seeing little to do short of banging down Osamu's door, which could only be seen as inappropriate and thus ill-advised, he crept up to the roof. While a bit disappointed, he couldn't say he was surprised by the lack of people beneath the stars. Still, Osamu had seemed near distraught. Whatever he needed to share, he would find a way to do so sooner rather than later. And if he was wrong? Jin tended to have trouble sleeping; he felt horrible at the prospect of wishing another a restless night, but those extra hours of company, silent or otherwise, had shamefully kept him around far longer than he may have been willing to otherwise. Even if that refuge had only come a handful of times early on. Even if the distance between them had widened into an unspoken sort of wall. He could see the future. He would come if Yuma needed help surely.

When the nights dragged on, time slowing seconds to mini eternities where he was left with nothing but open reign to torment himself, when he was nothing, those nights weighed on him more than anything. Most people slept to get a break from life. He was forced to fight monsters.

That night Yuma kept his feet planted on the ground. He was still seated on the ledge of the roof of course, what else was he to do really? Unmake the bed Tamakoma branch had so graciously offered? He'd gladly chop of his own legs first. But his eyes stayed fixed on the door.

His two favorite people could arrive at any second. His two people really, ever since he came to Meeden- to Japan. Ever since he lost Replica. Jin had pulled him off the field into a safer place. Osamu re-affirmed his reason to stay. All he needed was one of them to walk through the door. For Jin to offer a steaming mug of hot chocolate again or a rice cracker or a distraction from his thoughts. For Osamu, in all of his deeply ingrained kindness, to reveal himself with a worried wave, or a new problem for them to tackle together, or a distraction from his memories of bloody mistakes scrapping inside his skull.

He was normally able to keep the darker thoughts and more graphic imagery locked away. Tonight however his mind was ammunition by an open fire, energy and anticipation pulsed beneath his false skin to spark up memories from the deepest shutters within himself. The only distraction he could find purchase in was the loop of conversation from earlier. Shiori screaming about a confession. Osamu blushing like petals had perfectly placed themselves across his skin. No one so kind had a right to be so flustered by the thought of reciprocal feelings being directed back. If anyone deserved love and kindness, and for someone to caress his flowered cheeks, it was Osamu.

His insides fluttered once more.

If what Shiori said was true, if Osamu's intentions were the same as stated, then any minute now Osamu would be sharing something with someone important, if he hadn't already. He didn't want to be selfish with this. He knew, maybe more than anyone save Jin or Kido but certainly more than most, the dangers of harboring hope. As a stowaway, hope gnawed on one's resources until there was nothing left but that singular shining goal. As a companion on a journey, hope became the primary focus, the dawning light, no task became too great to offer in the name of actualizing said hope into reality. With hope in the equation people were fast to show their animal nature, to defy all vectors of logic in the name of a goal. In combat, hope of victory, of survival, of any form could be vanquished in a fraction of a second. There was no place for hope on the battlefield.

But most of Japan wasn't a battlefield. Only a small, quarantined section of the city had allowed violence to continually fester day in and day out. Everywhere else peace stood tall. Undisturbed by the flashes in the distance. This environment had nurtured all kinds of outlandish ideas: beyond peace and hope were technological advancements, transport-based innovations, and the cuisine!

People here randomly danced in the street. He saw one girl spin herself dizzy in the road with eyes closed, headphones on, all sources of sensory input dead to the world; an assassin's dream, yet she not only stayed breathing but standing, caught by a partner or friend or just a worried stranger with a smile, who pulled her to the other side of the street before the red numbers flicked to zero. He watched that hand blink and count and blink for three light cycles on his way back to base that day as he tried desperately to process how it was humanly possible for someone to feel so terribly safe they had no need of awareness. That someone could turn off any form of defense what so ever and still be guided gently. If this dissonance of a feeling, disturbing though it may be as he wouldn't even trust Dad that much, wasn't peace, he was frankly unsure what was. Peace did not grow on the battlefield. Peace grew in Mikado city.

Osamu said he was important to him. Osamu thanked him for his help. Osamu was the first person to be nice enough to stand up for him since- Since- His stomach swooped down as his thoughts took a nose dive once more. He inhaled. Ignored the voices biting about the futility of breath, how air really was wasted on him, and exhaled. A few more times. Replica was always insistent that proper breath control was key to regulating himself. Staying grounded. 'Staying human'. Replica had scolded him thoroughly when he let that remark slip through. 'You will always be human Yuma.' Replica wasn't here anymore. The memory of his voice felt quieter each night he sat in silence. He took another breath.

Maybe, just this once, he would allow hope to bloom again on the wasted battlefield of his heart. After all, if even Osamu couldn't come for those in need, then who possibly would?

~

Chapter Text

~

(Yuma)

The next morning Yuma was a bit slow to start. The clock read nine by the time he wandered down to the kitchen adorned by agents bustling around, who were quick to cut off access to the pantry.

"Yuma! You must have come down early and scrounged something up huh? Next time make something for Yotaro."

"Or just wait, no unsupervised neighbor usage of the kitchen. Where's your uniform Yuma? You'll be late for school. Go get dressed already!"

He wasn't able to utter a word out between Kizaki and Shiori. He silently shuffled back upstairs and put on one of the more comfortable yet restrictive uniforms he'd been forced to wear. When he returned downstairs, school bag in tow, he had just enough time to grab the boxed lunch Shiori shoved at him before he was similarly escorted out the door.

"Best not make a habit if being late Yuma! Osamu left almost an hour ago!"

"Enjoy your day!" the door slammed shut behind him. He glanced down at his lunch. Another new thing to try. He'd have to thank Shiori later. He stuffed the box in his bag and picked up a light jog to carry him all the way there. Technically, in this body he could just dead sprint and probably be on time. That would attract too much attention though. Brandishing the skills from a trion body wasn't so different from running around in a trigger. Just because Border recognized him as an agent now did not mean he was safe. From day one, even Osamu had made it quite clear that should he get too comfortable, be too careless with his actions, then any refuge he may have would be rescinded. He wanted little more than to belong in Dad's world. That and-

"Watch where you're going brat! Or do you need someone to beat some manners into you?" Normally he'd defend himself with a snide remark back or better yet apologize. The truth however was he wanted to save his first words of the day for Osamu's ears only. If Shiori got no 'thank you' in the name of his goal than this man would not receive a 'sorry'. Yuma slunk back to old habits and silently withdrew from the situation.

In the face of strangers, enemies unnamed or unknown, he was always sure to brandish strength with a smile more smirk than himself. Better they fear him than think him prey. As he told Osamu on his first day in this strange world; ignoring those who violently asserted their superiority only made matters worse. Not a lesson passed on by his father but one he cut from the cloth of life himself. Places may vary but people were people. For better or worse.

He was hoping to catch up with Osamu on the way to school; a plan thwarted by time. He sunk into his seat fifteen minutes into their literature lecture. Most of his classmates glared or gleamed curious eyes his way. A wave of whispers whilst the professor reamed him with everything short of a physical assault at the sound of the door. He closed his eyes and smiled through, same as always, lips puckered out by the end of his rant like a duck. He hadn't caught Osamu's expression behind his hand and glasses' glare. The other was closed off. No talking until lunch.

Yuma didn't speak until nearly one thirty. It felt as though birds had taken up residence in his chest while they attempted a jail break.

"Hey Osamu-"

"Hey yourself. Why were you late Kuga? You promised me you'd take school seriously."

"Sorry Osamu; I did not plan properly... How was your walk to school?"

"It was fine." Osamu peeked at him from over the edge of his glasses and was quick to take pity.

"It's alright Kuga. At least you showed up. Let's go meet Chika and Izuho for lunch.

Why would he not show up? School was mandatory, was it not? He was struggling to identify the source of Osamu's shift in mood. Was he truly upset about his tardiness? Or were other worries weighing on him? He was normally rather forthright with his concerns, for what reason might he be holding back now? How could he help?

Uncertain what to do with this sudden wall between them, Kuga settled in a step or two behind his captain and hoped it would dissipate soon. He rather enjoyed the lighter wisps that started to unfurl within the cavity of his chest While Yuma was intimately aware of the dangers of hope, he would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit excited by the thrum of the feeling. Sure, the likelihood of himself being the recipient of Osamu's feelings was negligible. But he had gotten back to the branch rather late last night. Perhaps his captain's poor mood was merely the result of being denied the opportunity he so coveted.

He held this theory close and refused to seed doubt when Chika's smile slid slightly at the sight of their captain. She saw too. The sourness to his stance and the storied shadows that tugged for his attention. Osamu seemed to be in a negative spiral and Yuma wasn't sure he could quite stand being snapped at again to pull him out. Chika was quick to distract and between chewing and asking Izuho about whatever 'references' she was constantly alluding to, the meal passed rather un-eventfully.

"Did you need a ride to HQ Izuho?"

"It's tempting... I still need to grab a few things from my place first though."

"As long as it's not too far out of the way, I'm sure Kizaki won't mind."

"Sure! If you have enough seats that is. This guy must always get saddled with middle seat; tough luck." Now that she mentioned as much, he was largely confided to the middle whenever seats were sparse in the car. He was still adjusting to seatbelts but everything else made sense.

"Ah- You're not wrong... I've done it before but..."

"But now that you're finally getting a bit of a growth spurt shorty here is gonna have to struggle to keep up. You've gotta have the worst genetics ever shrimp; doesn't look to me like you've grown at all since we met."

They met just a few weeks ago, how was she calling him out already? This could get dangerous...

"I do not have a problem with any of the seats inside the car. Shall we head to HQ?" Though he addressed the group at large, his focus was only on Osamu. Chika seemed similarly concerned and sub-dued. Whatever weights their captain sprouted overnight were not a figment of his mind alone.

Osamu was his friend. His partner. His captain. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. Whatever wounded hm so, whatever ailed his fragile heart, Yuma would get to the bottom of it. All in the name of helping him find his footing once more. When their captain lacked the strength to stand or the courage to defend himself, Yuma would be there, no matter what. To the wall and back.

Anything for Osamu.

Anything for his captain.

~

(Osamu)

His heart ached in a way he could not put to words. A way he would not wish upon his worst enemy. Reminiscent of when his Dad went overseas or when Rinji was reported missing...

"Are you sure you do not wish to be accompanied?"

Thankfully, there was little time to worry or ponder or sink into such sorrow. Despair. A cavity within himself. There was no time to wallow; he had training to do.

"I'm just going to talk with some A rank agents, nothing too crazy." Part of him wished to pacify his two teammates, but he was worried such platitudes would only set off his lie detector of a teammate. Better to go this alone. Alone as he'd felt all day. Since the talk last night... He quickly shook his head and clutched tighter at the bag Shiori left for him. While they made the pit stop for Shiori, Reiji had pointed to the bag plaguing his foot space in the passenger's seat. Face stern as ever while his tone stayed soft.

"These are the gifts Shiori was talking about. Be sure to give them to your hosts today. This is a rare opportunity Mikumo."

"I know. I'll have to find a way to make this up to Karasuma for setting this up."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, this is his job. Helping his junior whether it be networking, training, being an ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on, whatever the case as your mentors as much is the bare minimum for us. Just continue to apply yourself. So long as you can say you tried your best at the end of the day, that's more than enough for us." Osamu glanced over his shoulder to see Chika smiling ear to ear. She really lucked out with her mentor. Kuga too, honestly Konami was... A lot. Much like Kuga himself. She was loud, abrasive, rude and gullible, but her combat prowess was undisputed. She would steal Kuga away to spar for a few hours then leave him to his own devices. A hands-off approach. Seemed perfect for the combat veteran of their team.

Karasuma was amazing as well, but they were unable to spend as much time training together as he would prefer. There was, of course, the fact his own mentor was bogged down by constant part-time jobs. How he managed much continued to allude Osamu, who felt as though he were drowning most days between school, Border duties, and preventing any neighbor related incidents. The other main reason was his own short-comings. Just as his mentor said when he first requested these meetings be arranged, he wasn't advancing fast enough. Basic training was about all he could handle most days and even that was pushing his abilities most days. He had to follow through here though. He had to win this next match. He needed to score some points by himself. Needed to prove that Jin hadn't made a mistake letting him join their branch. A weight settled in his stomach; one that drop-kicked his lunch and made him re-adjust his grip on the bag once more' palms sweaty.

"I am going to the solo rank battles, then." Kuga waved from behind a duck face.

"I'm headed to the snipers' joint training practice." Chika sung.

"Alright. See you guys later then. Reiji agreed to pick us up at nine, so we'll meet here at eight-forty-five sharp. Let's discuss strategy back at base, okay?"

"Yes, captain."

"Understood." He drifted from the solo rank booths, Kuga was the most susceptible to getting lost on base, so they tended to rendezvous around him for convenience at this point.

'Remember what you asked me about the other day? Arashiyama and Izumi are both going to meet with you, and Reiji is willing to give you a ride to base in a few days. Go see them.'

Osamu reached the door to Arashiyama's operation's room sooner rather than later.

He steeled himself. Hand tightened around the bag's handle.

He had to lock in here. Stay focused. He was going to prove himself in the next match. This was never about romance of feelings or- Or being happy. Ridiculous. He was so, SO-

"What're you standing around for. Come in already." The squad room door opened, to reveal Kitora's glower; the scowl she seemed to reserve especially for him. After meeting Ayatsuji and hearing how his actions at the press conference were weighing the squad down at present, Arashiyama arrived to crush his dreams with a peppy explanation. Logically it made sense. He completed agreed with the assessment his mentor and seniors provided about his current skill level. He had been B-rank for a month at best and not by his own talents or skills. By benefiting from others. He was here because of Jin...

Luckily, Arashiyama agreed to teach him with Tokieda regardless. They simply warned that he was liable to be an easier target. He was already a target. Low trion. Little to no offensive potential. Aside from his range and positioning he wasn't able to effect any changes in combat previously and even then he annoyed his enemies more than anything. What he needed was offensive potential. To earn points. Be useful. Surely if he thought this through enough times such would come true.

"As he is now, there's nothing for me to teach him."

Kitora was often correct. Her words were harsh, but she brandished an honesty that most others shied from. Usually in the name of sparing his feelings. Izumi drew similar conclusions though with a far nicer lens. He backed Arashiyama's advice before bemoaning the lack of info left to share and denying the instruction of composite bullets. If he could unleash weapons like the Tamahawk, he was certain to be useful on the field. Such firepower could not be disputed. According to his seniors, neither could the fact he would be weaker with this weapon in his hand. To prove his point, the number one shooter instructed him to spar with the weakest A rank agent.

Yuiga, for as much as his skill was down-played and ragged on, was too tough of an opponent for him. He did not doubt everything Izumi claimed about the other's respective strength, or lack thereof, was true. Which made his loss all the more aggravating.

Failure wasn't an option however. He had gain points. He had to become stronger. Had to be a threat. He would have a presence on the field in their next match, he would earn points, he would prove that he could change. He wasn't some ignorant kid that need to be saved. He wasn't an incompetent rookie that needed pity points. He was a Border agent. Just like-

He was going to earn points next match.

They were going to win. To continue to climb.

This match would be different.

No matter what.

~

(Chika)

"I still can't believe you're already B-rank number six!"

"That's only because my teammates are really talented."

"Give yourself more credit Chikako; you're just as amazing!"

"Meanwhile, I'm stuck floundering down here in C-rank." She sighed, lips pouted out in a manner all to familiar at this point. Izuho's duck face was far more relaxed somehow. As though Izuho sunk into comfort with the expression, a warmer feeling, Yuma seemed to get farther away with it, less involved. Not cold but not close enough to be warm.

"I may have to find myself a mentor soon. I don't really know how else to improve beyond what I'm already doing.

Her friend sighed as she ran a hand overtop the cat on her head. She giggled, unsure how Izuho could care so greatly for the creature to carry it with her everywhere she was legally allowed yet failed to give him a name.

"Aw man, there's no open lanes by each other!" Her friend groaned. Her arms flopped about yet the feline remained undisturbed.

"That's okay" she soothed.

"Let's just check downstairs."

At the far end of the range she saw movement. An agent in black turned towards them. His expression seemed dreary, slouches and sharp angles, a weight around his eyes that reminded her of Kizaki when he was lining up a shot but tugged downwards into melancholy. Experience in combat. Who was he...?

The mystery guy grabbed a bag in the bay to his right and chucked it none to gently over to the lane on his left in the corner. Blue eyes peeked over at them from beneath dusted blonde bangs. Like a glacier glimpsed through a forest.

"Two free lanes."

"Awesome! Thanks!" Izuho wasted little time waving and getting set up.

"Thank you very much." She bowed slightly. Her smile strengthened when she looked back up and caught the kind stranger waving her off. He's modest. Maybe there's a trend among strong agents. While still remarkably new to the agency herself, she couldn't help but notice the general distinction in strength between those who boasted and those who allowed their capabilities to speak for themselves.

She had to stifle a further stretch of her smile as thoughts of her neighbor friend and mentor once again resurfaced. Of course, there were always agents like Konami or Jin who would loudly proclaim their superiority while undoubtedly being able to back as much up.

"AHHH! Kitty!"

"Agent Hiura, from Nasu squad."

"Oh? You a fan of cats?"

"Of course! They're the greatest! I LOVE them! Only... I can't tell whether or not this one wants to be pet!" She all but cried as she pawed at the air herself and contemplated the cat. Said creature soundlessly leapt onto the head of another.

"What's with this cat?"

"Mister Toma! You were the lucky one blessed by the kitty..."

"Mister pompadour! Sorry about my cat."

"No need to apologize. This cat obviously has quite the discerning eye. Isn't that Yuzuru?"

"You're almost late for practice again, Toma."

"Wait, wasn't my bag on the other side before...?"

She couldn't help the occasional glance over at the other lanes to her left. At a glance of their targets, the two guys seemed trigger happy and slop-shod. Yet both held themselves steady, pulled the trigger without hesitation. It reminded her of the quiet confidence she saw in seasoned snipers like Reiji, Arafune, and Narasaka. After the exorcise, she was all but shocked by the shapes she saw.

"Mister Pompadour drew a smiley face with bullet holes!"

"And his friend made a perfect star!"

"That's crazy, neither of them wanted points from the start..."

"Points, tests, rankings, such cannot ever tell the whole picture; there will always be those with unconventional tendencies and a surplus of skill." Narasaka said, having been summoned by Hiura's announcement the top ranked sniper was her mentor. He didn't refute such. She was really curious what their training sessions were like, but didn't quite have the courage to interrupt her senior agents.

"First time I've shot with a cat on my head. You really ought to try this Narasaka. It's quite the experience."

"No thanks."

"Is this why you're always ranked so low in training Yuzuru? You're doing cool stuff like this?"

"That's certainly some crazy technique." Izuho nodded in agreement.

"Not really. I'm just messing around."

"No, you're amazing! You have such precise control; it's really impressive." She smiled. Someone so talented should hardly be so withdrawn, especially about his own abilities. The action reminded her a bit too much of her teammates. She hoped her honesty got through to him. It seemed everyone around her these days was under-valuing themselves. Chika couldn't help but contemplate what that said about her, as a commonality.

"What's going on over here Yuzuru? Quite popular today, huh? This right here is Ema Yuzuru; fourteen years old. Please play nice with him, ladies." Toma rubbed his friend's head affectionately while he provided a smooth yet seemingly practiced smile. He seemed easy-going enough to make her a bit un-easy. Or maybe she had been spending too much time with Osamu lately.

After Hiura, who declared she and Nasu squad would take a win against their team next time, and Narasaka who wanted Toma to pass regards along to someone named Fuyshima, the pair of pairs ended up adjusting some of the training settings. Apparently, Toma had a theory as to Izuho's recent plateauing of progress.

"A bit more to the right. Keep on going."

"What? But it's too far?"

"Have a little faith. And~ Stop. Fire at an time."

"Whoa! I hit dead center! For real?"

"You tend to lean to the left."

Chika smiled at her friend. Seems she found a mentor quick; Izuho would be battling her in B-rank in no time. Although secretly, she hoped her squad could break into A-rank sooner rather than later. Which brought up another point of curiosity.

"Hey Yuzuru?" He was sipping on a drink he snuck out to grab. Despite his somewhat pouty expression, his cheeks were always dusted pink. The contrast caught her breath each time she saw.

"Your teacher, Miss Hatohara, what was she like? If, you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all. She's not with Border anymore. The top brass benched her so she quit."

'Benched? What does-'

"Hatohara wanted to go on an Expedition to the other side. She qualified, passed the selection exam, did everything right. But her and her team were still denied the right to go."

"But why?"

"Because she couldn't shoot people."

Her world distorted a bit. Chika felt as though she were suddenly made of glass and a crowbar was headed towards her face. As though the world had slanted sideways. A similar feeling to when Border agents, and later police, the search teams, showed up at her door. Most more concerned by what he did rather than where he was. He was missing, yet not many people cared for long. Her parents more annoyed by the inconvenience, at least that's what they shared. She thought she heard her mom crying once, late at night.

She also couldn't bring herself to-

"...But she was far from useless. She would shoot her opponents weapons. Even if she couldn't score points like Toma or Narasaka, Hatohara was the best sniper I've ever seen. Most people don't seem to agree and top brass definitely deem it worthless to not be able to shoot people. What about you, Amatori?"

"No, I don't think that way at all. I'm afraid... So I also can't shoot people..." This fear, this all encompassing sensation. She loved being a sniper. Ever since living and breathing life at Border she had felt more herself than ever before. She could track moving targets, got a thrill out of predicting their paths, could consistently hit smaller and smaller targets. There was so much to learn and all of it exhilarating. Yet as soon as she was told to pull the trigger on a person? A person with a voice. Who could scream. Who could ask her why after the match. Why you? Why were you blessed with so much trion? Why do you have the right to rise through the ranks? You, a rookie who couldn't even get to B-rank with their own merit, who had to steal her teammates' points. She refused to believe the whispers that would claw away at her. Yet they were able to freeze her up. Granted, she had not ever been asked by Osamu to fire on anyone in a rank battle, and she was able to carry out most of his other instructions, simple though they were.

Was she using Osamu as a shield...? What would happen if he did ask her to fire on somebody...? Would she-

"...Hey, Amatori? Should you really be telling me this?"

"What do you mean?" 'Aren't we friends? We were getting along so well, did I-"

"You know we're your opponents in the next rank wars, right? Kageura squad."

'Oh.'

"Oh..."

Ninomiya, Azuma, and Kageura squad were their next opponents...

Good thing they were planning to talk strategy later...?

~

(Yuma)

Yuma worked his way through twenty odd C-ranks before they wised up to his relative combat skill, despite his current point value. Yet another seemingly needless metric. Why Border seemed to prioritize ranking agents and playing games to assign strength rather than ensure rank and order was followed remained a mystery to him. The sort of question he would have no problem giving voice to were Replica there to murmur his own speculations. Few had seen the sorts of things he had; no one on this planet had access to the same information as him. The closest may be the prisoners from Aftokrator. This feeling, these parallels, Torimaru referred to such as 'irony'.

"Yuma! Long time no see! Arafune here is no challenge at all, let's fight!" Midorikawa waved with his whole body as he all but abandoned the sniper in favor of charging his new apparent target.

"Hello Arafune, Midorikawa-ah." The taller attacker looped an arm round his elbow and dragged him over towards the booths.

"Call me Shun, Yuma! Hurry up! Can we start the match underwater? Can we? Can we?"

He had intended to speak more with the sniper, especially after Shiori shared he was the one who taught Murakami how to use a kogetsu blade. Such knowledge painted the attacker turned sniper in a new light and, while he was fairly confident he would win any future engagements, he would be quite curious to go a few rounds with the other agent. All the better to gauge how much Murakami pulled from his supposed mentor and where their technique, and thus perception, deviated paths. At present however...

"Okay, okay. Just let go please. Do you want to train in underwater conditions or spar in such?"

"Aren't the two one and the same? How about we go fifteen rounds this time? We can start the first five underwater- We'll just use the same match as your last rank war battle."

"Sure. I take it we're using all our triggers this time."

"Obviously! Someone has to show you what a proper pinball looks like! I'll be in booth 102! Hurry up!"

'Pinball...?' As he heard murmurs start to ripple round the room like waves against a rocky shore he made his way into a booth of his own.

Three sets of fifteen round matches later, the winner of which was Yuma every time by increasingly larger margins, Shun had enough. After being scolded for failing to purchase him a drink following their last set of matches, he threw out the trade offer of a drink for a talk. He knew Shun was prideful, but he was also willing to set as much aside in the sake of bettering himself. Yuma made sure his movements were still, practiced. He pursued his lips after asking and kept his eyes firmly closed. He wasn't used to asking things of his friends. He wasn't used to friends. He wanted to learn though. Badly. He felt his chest ache as seconds-

"Finally learning some manners! As my elder, it's your responsibility to buy me a drink Yuma."

"I see..." The strange sensation within him abated slightly as the other animatedly asked about his technique for executing him in one of their later bouts. He responded with the use of the other's first name and was somewhat surprised when no negative repercussions followed. While he was quick to call out his captain first name, he was tersely and repeatedly told that such was only for those who were incredibly close. Friends.

'We only use the first name of someone we are incredibly close with in Japan, like family or friends.'

'I know.'

'Then why are you calling me 'Osamu'?'

'Because we're friends.' Though the day may have been brief, he felt as though they experienced a great deal together. He already knew one of the largest pieces about himself he wanted to keep hidden. Though later Replica shared the other piece.

'...Right?' He refused to get small. Especially in those days when his short stance was backed by the unseeable shadow of Replica's persistent wisdom. He always provided a grounding presence that Yuma felt he was in need of from time to time.

'Right. Of course. I may still need a bit more time before I can say the same, I'm afraid. I didn't have a lot of friends growing up, embarrassing as that is to admit, so I may take a while to warm up to you completely.

'No problem, there's nothing to apologize for. You should always be wary of your surroundings and those who occupy it.'

'...If you want to call me Osamu, I won't mind too much... Just make sure you always start on a last name basis with people here. And work on your honorifics; those are really important here.'

'Thank you for your kindness and assistance Osamu.'

The lack of an ever-present cold, so all-consuming the tension tended to dull out any other feeling, almost started to feel warm. He opted for a water whilst Shun snagged what seemed to be the most colorful container within the machine. He was only just tucking away the excess change the machine provided when Shun's attention was snagged by someone else. He froze as the other attacker called out.

"Murakami! That battle you had against Yuma was crazy! How did his pinball compare with mine?"

"Pinball?"

"Yeah, the move where you threw up all those grasshoppers and jumped around him, you know, like a pinball machine?" 'A pinball... Machine? What?' While the machine made no sense, the move itself was one Shun seemed to be notorious for. Who knew he had developed a technique? He had scored a few round wins off Yuma today with said technique earlier that day.

"Ah, to be honest my first thought was that yours is better Midorikawa, sharper, you typically mix up your moves a bit more. There is extra energy behind your limbs which slows you down on paper, but based on your foot placement and attack pattern, the result is a less predictable trajectory path. You do have a lot more experience with grasshopper after all. I was more impressed with the variety of techniques that were placed on display in our match, Kuga. Most of those were invented by A rank agents. Access to the A rank logs is to restricted to teams to in the same rank or higher, how did you get to see them? One of the Tamakoma members?"

"I did not watch any logs."

"Huh?!"

"What?"

"Then how...!?"

Yuma shrugged.

"I spend a lot of time thinking about fighting. Especially at night."

Murakami seemed intrigued. Shun seemed un-impressed. Both responses made him a bit uncomfortable; his desire had always been to fly under the radar best he could. A feat easier to accomplish now that he wasn't constantly trying to impress his Dad-

"Arafune actually messaged me earlier; told me you were in today Kuga. Is there any chance you'd be willing to spar again?" Yuma had to bite back the hints of a smile. 'Of course he picked up on me holding back our first fight. No wonder he was so tough to crack on the bridge; he was holding back then too.'

"And risk revealing my back up strategies for the next time we fight?"

"Why not now then? Right now, you two aren't technically in the same division sooo..." He spared the younger attacker and his sly puppy face a smile. Quite the reversal from his advice on the subject from last week. Now that he knew of the other's innate advantage in combat, would fighting him as much as possible, for intel collection of course, not be the most prudent actions?

"Oh?" He mulled the offer over in his head. On the one hand, Osamu absolutely chewed him out the last time the sparred without his consent. Though he sort of assumed the anger was in regard to his failure to withhold information about himself and thus their team strategy from a known enemy. But since he and Murakami had already fought-

"Sure that would be great, thank you very much." Murakami's smile was slight as his bow. He couldn't help but offer the slightest hint of a coy smile in return.

"Hey, where's my 'thank you' for our matches? Gratitude was not what you offered me before our matches." Shun pouted.

"Thank you too Shun. I was able to gain a better understanding of the practical application of your pinball move."

"That's my move, figure out your own!" He stuck his tongue out, arms crossed while Murakami laughed.

"How many rounds are you willing to give me today?" The eldest turned his focus to him as Shun became quite enraptured by the buzzing from his pocket.

"Well, we just did a series of fifteen round matches, would that work for you?"

"Five more rounds than last time? Sounds great."

"Awww I really want to see, but I'm scheduled for defense duty soon. Thanks again for the matches, Yuma. I'll be sure to pay you back in full next time." Shun whined. How had he- Buzzing. Phone. Osamu spoke of these chances. 'Just ask people for their phone numbers if you ever want to get in touch with them later, you'll be able to.' He was currently in the presence of two people who would be quite advantageous to continue sparring with. Yuma jumped at his chance as the other attacker started to wander off with a wave and a lazy smile.

"Hey, Shun, would you mind giving me your phone info- Or your phone number rather?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course! That would make meeting up for future matches way easier! Why didn't I think of that sooner? Here, trade me."

Thankfully they appeared to be of similar mind; at least on this topic. The youngest shoved his square device in his face while snatching Yuma's own phone out of his hands. He squinted at the text, uncertain but-

"No password? Bold as always, Yuma. Huh?! You have, like, NO contacts. Actually none. Hey, how come the Tamakoma branch chief is in here but not your parents?" Yuma stiffened. He was about to state they had no phones and hope he asked no further questions. Luckily, he seemed more interested in his own observations then answers.

"Okay, you actually have no pictures. I didn't think that was possible..." Shun stopped his overly emphatic speech for a moment. He held Yuma's phone aloft and threw a puppy dog smile at the screen, index and middle right finger parted like an english letter 'v'. How peculiar. He cast a glance over at the oldest attacker, who seemed far more interested in looking at the screen of the phone in Shun's hand than the absurdity of his current pose. He got the sense he would only ostracize himself further if he asked about this, instead opting to turn back to the device in his own grasp.

'CONTACTS' was displayed in bold across the screen's top.

First Name
Last Name
Phone Number

He blinked. Blew out a breath. Input the information.

"There's only the default apps on here too. You should at least change your background Yuma. Sheesh."

"When did you get this phone Kuga?"

"A week or so ago."

"A week?!"

"No wonder it's so bare bones..." Murakami murmured. Far from forgetting his presence, Yuma was incredibly intrigued, found himself frequently glancing over' if only to keep tabs on the others movements. An enemy powerful as him ought to be respected. Which meant no dropped guard.

"You didn't want to transfer over the data from your old phone?" He shrugged. Best to let the others draw their own conclusions as much as possible. Were these devices really so special? They seemed relatively standardized to him. Then again, until recently he had been quite spoiled in the communication assistance department. The hole left by that absence seemed impossible to plug. Like the one in his real body.

"Here." Unsure what else to say, he held out the device to his friend.

"Thank you~ Ah! Yuma where's your contact pic? Come here." He stiffened as Shun slid an arm round his shoulders. Entrapped him with a smile. A puppy smile. Oh.

"You're not even looking at the camera!" Shun whined. After a click the youngest attacker pulled away and ceased his staged smile.

'Camera?' Yet more to ask Osamu about later... Though his captain had been quite distant today. He may just have to experiment more with the 'search' function Konami pointed out when he first got it.

"Got it! Thanks again, Yuma. See you around Murakami!"

"See ya later Shun!" He waved back whilst his elder smiled to his right. Murakami wasted little time calling out to him to while wandering over to the booths.

"Shall we?"

"Gladly!"

No water maps this time. Murakami won 9-6. As he suspected, he was able to get a leg up initially, but the other attacker's ability to adapt and counter act was prodigious indeed, side effect or not.
"This is the first time we've fought since the match. Your swordplay is already sharper. Very nice moves." He knew. He knew he was strong; Dad never tolerated anything less. War would not let him and he was trained to survive. His strength was a given. Like the return of the sun to day or his psyche to death. Yet the warm simplicity with which he spoke, the sheer sincerity since he had nothing to gain by throwing him false praise. Or praise in general. Sure he could not see the smoke, but he felt within his heart if fake hearts that perhaps the sentiment rang true. He would choose to believe the words regardless. Many a moon had passed between him and the last time a compliment was cast upon him. Even longer since there was once offered without an underlying hint if dread or the unspoken implication within that everything praiseworthy cobbled into him was also what made him a monster.

Murakami sounded to be smiling with his soft simple look whilst he said such words. He would carry this fantasy to his end.

"Thank you very much..." He really was unsure how to follow such praise. Luckily the other carried onward, confident and assured.

"Do you know who Tamakoma-2's opponents are for the next match?"

"Ninomiya, Azuma and Kageura squad, if I recall."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you and Kage fight."

"Kage?"

"Masato Kageura, captain of Kageura squad. He's a challenging opponent; stronger than me at least."

"Really? The number one attacker is Tachikawa, number two is Kazama, and number four is Murakami, right? So Kageura must be number three?"

"No, Kage's ranked around number twenty now."

"Oh...? Even though he's stronger than you?"

"He's definitely stronger. Tachikawa, Kazama, Kage, and we haven't fought often but Konami as well. Those four attackers are the only ones I have a higher loss than win rate fighting against."

"What about Jin?"

"I've never fought him; he was already S-rank when I joined Border."

"I see. What about Kageura's team? What are they like?"

"A balanced three man squad, like ours. They're typically far more offensive however. They've been ranked as high as A-rank number six in the past. Along with Ninomiya squad, the top slots in B-rank belong to them.

"Hm... But if he's so strong, why is he ranked number twenty?" 'Something must have happened. I wondered why the top two teams seemed so much stronger than the rest of B-rank at large. I sense movement from above. Border is different from them. It's not the same. This is different.'

"You'll probably figure it out once you meet him. Is that something you would be interested in? A meeting at least?"

"With Mister Kageura? Of course. I will gladly take all the information I can get."

"Perfect. I didn't want to pressure you, but I actually messaged Kage before our match. I can introduce you two, if you want?"

"That would be greatly appreciated! What would you ask of me in return?"

"Maybe another rematch next week?"

"Really? That would be amazing!" Murakami's laugh sounded gentle over the booth's coms, like a brooke bubbling over boulders unperturbed.

"Great, I'll meet you at the stairs. I'll introduce you two."

He was quick to vacate the booth, remnants of his drink from earlier in hand, as he rushed as casually as possible to rendezvous. Murakami pulled out his phone while Yuma started trying to find this mysterious attacker amidst the crowd.

"Kage says he's here already."

Yuma's attention was drawn to a lanky individual with somewhat scraggly dark hair. He seemed fidgety in an aggressive sort of way. Arm thrown seemingly lazily across the back of one of the couches. But based on the constant tapping of his heel however while his thumb smashed his phone-

"Hey! You guys got something to say?"

From across the room, two C-ranks flinched. Interesting...

"Nope!"

"Nothing sir!"

 

"Whatever. Not worth it... Just get lost!"

"Yes sir."

"Getting lost sir."

Both snickered as they stomped away; a return of old habits. He wasn't the only one to note as much. He watched the man raise a hand to his elbow. His own eyes hyper focused on the point for a second.

"Oi. Changed my mind."

The two turned back around only to face a wall of smoke. Their trion bodies destroyed. Both in a single precise strike yet the movement looked erratic; whip-like.

"Scorpion. He's fast." He couldn't help but marvel at the technique. To have such attuned trion control to actively bend a blade was already incredible, he himself often only forged static bent blades, but to be partnered with such speed? Amazing.

"How does he get such range though?" He murmured.

"Careful, Kuga. Don't stare too long. He'll bite your head off too. C'mon. I'll introduce you." Murakami smiled the same through his warning as he did the walk over. His mask was still, soft, a smile, but sturdy all the same. Far different from his own, Murakami's was a reassurance. He was constantly watching yet he failed to emit a threatening intent, even in battle.

Yuma kept his face carved externally. Mask maintenance was far easier in a false form, and past experiences had all but demanded he perfect the skill, though internally he winced at the wave of nostalgia. Murakami had taken a tone akin to the warning edge agents had introduced the man himself with. He did say Kageura bested him in combat more oft than not.

Teeth spiky like a shark. Eyes gold as wheat fields in early afternoon. His hair was a tangle of black; twigs with wills of their own compared to the dense clumps that used to comprise his own hair.

"Sorry for the wait, Kage."

"Ko! You're late! If you weren't so slow, I wouldn't have people staring at me!"

"Not my fault." A suppressed laugh rang round Murakami's voice as he approached the supposed scorpion user. The C ranks scrambled for their elder's attention, badgering him to take their supposed side in this 'incident'. His eyes stayed largely focused on this new stranger. Half his mind was absorbing all the data he could while the rest was still trying to figure out his scorpion trick.

"Calm down, he won't attack your living bodies."

What made a body alive? Cells? Souls? Sensations? Were all beyond his reach?

"He can read your mind you know." Black smoke streamed from Murakami's mouth. The sight seemed strange and wrong from such a soft-set face. 'Everybody lies.' But the smoke cleared quickly as he continued.

"He's got that side effect, you know? It's actually pretty tough for him." Said him had wandered off to growl at some other nearby C-ranks that seemed to be taking interest nearby. Luckily the others were quick to depart. Murakami called the other attacker back over.

"If you do something flashy like that you'll be demoted and lose more points again."

Demotion? Could symptoms of a side-effect really cause such insubordination that demotion would be deemed reasonable?

Kageura stomped over and threw himself back on the sofa he was previously lounging on. Arm thrown over the back, ankle on his knee. Ah. He had a mask too.

"Whatever, I take way more issue with cocky scumbags like those guys who walk around insulting me behind me back. That pisses me off way more than some measly points! And I brushed it off the first time! Those imbeciles kept pushing it..."

"I saw. I saw it."

"If you do not care about demotion, are you uninterested in becoming A-rank again, Kageura?"

"Huh? Who's this pipsqueak?"

Once he forced his way into the man's field of view the pair remained locked onto each other. In the few instances their line of sight snapped their focus on the other simply amplified to compensate.

"Hello. My name is Yuma Kuga of Tamakoma-2."

"This is who I wanted you to meet."

"Tamakoma...THIS is the guy who took down you and Arafune?! Are you serious?! You let yourself get knocked around by this little freak?! That's hilarious! Ha ha ha ha hah! What a joke! Finally a reason to watch the battle logs."

"Kage..." There was a warning edge to Murakami's voice. Yuma fought to keep his fingers free of movement. He didn't need people to protect him. The man with wild hair and wilder eyes continued, not undeterred but along a new trail.

"I heard you'll be going up against my squad in the next round."

Yuma recognized this approach, one he himself resorted to often when Dad told him to 'go play with the local kids' in front of their hosts. An order to gather as much intel as possible and with a potentially hostile subject, sometimes starting the conversation with blades drawn was the way to go. For all intents and purposes, this seemed to be Kageura's approach. The same strategy he used on the C ranks. Badgering and intimidation tactics. Thankfully he remained seated. He already respected the man for attacking his psyche rather than his stature.

"Only three matches into the season and you're already in the top tiers of B rank. You want to get picked for an away mission that badly, huh? What, did the girl you like get kidnapped?"

"Hey, Kage..." Enough. No one defended him. No one defended him and lived. All he was doing was fishing for information, same as himself.

"If you want to know the reason, why not just read my mind? Your side effect is telepathy or something, right?" To his right, he felt Murakami tense. An interesting observation he tucked away for later. He refused to let others interfere in his real battles. Murakami was kind enough to compliment something such as him, he refused to repay those words by sewing discord amongst his friends. If there was a problem, he wanted to carry the full responsibility of such. His gaze and attention remained fixated on the pointy toothed individual who snarled before him.

His attention stayed fixated on the man in front of him. Slouch stiff. Gold eyes carved into his own. A search sought with jabs; also a speed attacker. His eyes were the same color as his somehow extended scorpion. Golden discs narrowed only to vanish.

Whatever information he had been hoping to gain, he had come up empty. This was not the sort of man to lay a feint with facial features, he took too much pride in his abilities; understandably so given his aptitude with the scorpion trigger. Perhaps the nature of his side effect was such that certain conditions had to be met. Such as Jin only being able to witness future pathways of those he had seen in person. The burdens born by others always intrigued him though he knew better than to ask. How did his side effect give him an edge in combat? He wanted to fight this person so badly. To feel the blade sever his fake limbs. To see the bent edge aimed directly for his face...

"Tch! My crappy side effect isn't anything that useful." All at once he departed. A dismissal. He had chosen to withdraw? After such a brazen frontal assault? Had he already retrieved the intel he wanted? They never even crossed blades though, so what had he been searching for? No one did anything without a reason. Even beasts. Especially beasts.

"Oi, we only just got here." Murakami called after him.

"Too many people; it's pissing me off. I get that you probably wanted to fight me before the match, but I've got no reason to play dumb and hand over intel to you. We don't care about the expeditions, honestly, but I won't let my team lose to anyone weaker than us. You want A rank? You beat us first, pipsqueak." C ranks scrambled frantically from his path. He stood stock still beside the older attacker while they watched him go.

"Kageura's side effect is not mind reading, huh? What is it then?"

"I think the official name is 'Emotional Synesthesia'. He says the feelings and awareness of people around him is like a stabbing sensation on his skin. Fear, trust, hate, gratitude, contempt, respect, expectation, concern; all these emotions feel different to him, they produce different sorts of stabbing sensations he's able to distinguish between and the more negative the emotion the worse it feels for him. That's the reason for interactions like the one you saw earlier."

"...I see."

"He's overly aggressive and lacks tact but at his core he's straightforward and honest. He will probably take to you quick, Kuga."

"Oh? Why?"

"When we fought in our last match, I got the feeling you two were quite similar; you two have the same sort of air around you. I think you'll get along well."

"Hm..." He stared after where Kageura had slunk round the corner. A similar presence, huh? He supposed they were both aggressive attackers who dual-wielded scorpion, though he got the feeling Murakami was alluding to something else. He really wished he had a chance to fight the long-reaching blade first hand...

"I should probably start heading back to Suzunari branch. Hey Kuga, would you mind trading numbers before I go? I would appreciate the chance to spar again, if you want that is."

"Yes, yes of course." He tried to quench his excitement. Two contacts in one day? The amount of leg work he had to do on intel operations in the Neighborhood to yield such results in a day was enough to almost make him shiver. Instead, he withdrew his square of a cellphone to trade with the other attacker's own. He watched Murakami perform a similar pose to the one Shun had earlier, cellphone extended and all. He couldn't say he understood but he did thank the other for all his help.

Much as he hated to admit it, the odds of winning the next match were seeming less and less likely. He opted to spend the rest of the day skimming through logs. If he could crack the trick behind the long scorpion blade, he may have an ace in the hole that could guarantee them a point. Not that a single point was anywhere near good enough. He hoped Osamu would provide insight into their strategy soon. Only a few days remained until their next match. He would never dare doubt their captain.

However, he was starting to feel uncertain about his own ability to perform in these circumstances. This was Osamu however. His captain. He always followed through, delivered on his words, was there for those in need. A demon of helpfulness. Yuma would find a way to secure the win for his captain. No matter what.

~

Chapter Text

~

(Osamu)

The ride back to base was long; or it felt long rather. Every bump in the road reminded him of Kitora's words, sharp and spiteful with truth. 'He's not ready to learn from me yet.'

How could he catch up? How could he compete with other agents? How could he become as strong as Jin? As graceful in battle? As adept at changing the tides? How could he protect people, like his idol, when he could not longer stand to look said man in the eye? He though of those piercing orbs, blue as the sky and sea smeared into one ever-seeing stream of colored consciousness. He thought of all the ways this romance of his mind could have played out. The thoughts of fantasy he felt before but dared not dream of. Deep down, he had known how unlikely it was his feelings would be shared here; yet he dared anyway. Look where led.

He could hardly focus.

"...Something tells me we won't be getting much farther tonight."

"Oh. Are you feeling unwell Osamu? You and Chika both seem less energetic than earlier."

"Yuma, maybe this is something you ought to keep to yourself...?" Shiori stepped in, glasses glinting. He was ever thankful for her presence, not just in the meeting but on the team. He really wasn't sure how he'd be able to manage the other agents otherwise; mainly Kuga.

"It's nothing. Not anything we need to discuss or worry about now." He tried to assuage with a smile though who couldn't catch another's eye at present.

"..."

"How was training?" Kuga continued.

"I met the sniper of Kageura squad today."

"Really?"

"Congrats Chika, I did not think you were the intel gathering type." Shiori slipped a glance over towards Kuga. He similarly did not wish to encourage the boy's enabling of Chika's more extreme tendencies. However he did similarly find this recent development intriguing.

"Yes, but, I didn't learn about him so much as, well, um- So..."

"Is something wrong Chika? He did not hurt you did he?"

"No- no the opposite in fact! Uh, sort of! He was super nice and easy to get along with!"

"Really? Yuzuru always came across as a it shy and aloof to me but I don't talk with the other snipers near so much as the other operators. And to be honest, Nire on Kageura squad is a bit of a recluse herself. She doesn't keep up with the other operators so much as is considered standard so coordinating usually falls to Kitazoe." Shiori shared with a tilt of her head. Her index finger played along her jaw whilst she walked through her thoughts with words.

"Yeah, he and his friend, Toma I think his name was, they were giving Izuho pointers. He talked to me about his mentor. Miss Hatohara..."

"Oh."

'Oh'? Was that worry he detected in Kuga's tone? He didn't get worried. He was a force of nature, something dangerous and inevitable, like the crater left in a asteroid's wake. Nothing could shake the neighbor. Had he caught on to some hidden concern? What had he missed? Chika seemed to see what he failed to detect as she tensed beneath Kuga's laser beam eyes. Regardless, her tone was clear and stable when she spoke again.

"Yeah... One thing led to another and I... Sort of ended up telling him that I have a hard time shooting other people. I didn't say I couldn't or anything and I didn't know he was on Kageura squad until it was too late! I thought we were just getting to know each other better..." Was that a blush? was she blushing? Why would Chika be-

"Is that the sort of information friends here share right after meeting? Japanese people are really trusting..."

"No, maybe just Chika. I don't blame you; sharing what you did takes a lot of courage and it may be helpful to talk with other snipers or Border agents about reservations they had attacking other people when learning to fight." Shiori knelt down beside Chika, effectively blocking his view of Kuga who began to shift and shuffle around almost as if uncomfortable. He found such a feeling funny in face of the neighbor's stoic nature and dismissed the thought. Was it any better to assume the boy was disinterested in placating their teammate...? Not that he was doing well in said department. Chika shook her head, fingers tensing around one another.

"I shouldn't have said anything, you're right. I'm really sorry. I truly didn't mean to give any of our secrets away as a team and I- I already am holding us back-" A wobble entered her voice and he all but threw himself at the floor to abade her sorrow. He never wanted to see such a regretful look, not on Chika.

"That's not true at all. You haven't done anything wrong okay, you said you didn't know."

"He's right Chika, your empathy is an amazing quality; something to be proud of." Chika seemed as though the start of a smile would soon shine across her face again. Then Kuga cut in.

"If Hatohara and Chika have similar personalities, then other agents who were close to her may have picked up on her tendencies as well."

"That's a really good point. Ninomiya squad were her old teammates and Azuma was her mentor and trainer. It's safe to assume that all three teams in the next rank war match are aware of a weakness we have as a squad."

Chika tensed again but her breaths were steady enough for Shiori to step back and shift into analysis for the upcoming battle again. Osamu tightened his fist. She was right, though; this was the squad's problem as a whole.

"You still shouldn't have told him, but now you know for next time. There are certain things that are better shared with just teammates, or branch members."

"We all want to help you Chika, please don't be afraid to come to us with whatever problems or concerns or questions you may have, the more the merrier!"

"Do not worry too much Chika. Information collection is part of the rank wars too. Besides, I messed up last time by fighting Murakami and we still won in the end. He beat me again today though; I am uncertain how consistently I will be able to beat him going forwards."

"You let Murakami study you? Again?!"

"How else am I supposed to get learn and get stronger? I told you I would be engaging in the solo rank battles."

"Yeah, but not against potential enemies."

"Our ranks are constantly fluctuating, everyone is a potential enemy. Should we not gain as much knowledge and experience against them as possible? Is that not why you fought Kazama awhile back?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

"You have not taken an interest in my training before, Osamu. Is there something-"

"No. You're right. I know you're strong but- Never mind. Do whatever you want, Kuga."

"Osamu, I-"

"It's fine Kuga, Murakami will learn your moves eventually by watching the rank logs anyway. Besides, he's not one of our upcoming opponents."

"Let's just hope that Suzunari prime stays in the mid B ranks so we don't have to worry about fighting them again." Shirori cut in.

"That's for sure. In the meantime, let's review the logs. Before the match we can go over basic coordination tactics. Between now and then we will continue to hone our skills as individuals.

"Roger."

"Understood."

"I need to get going. Did you still want that ride home Chika?"

"Yes please, if you don't mind. I know you've been driving us all over today already."

"No problem. I'll just grab my bag from downstairs. Meet you up front?"

"Of course! Thanks again Shiori." She smiled then turned to address the two teammates still seated.

"I've got plans tomorrow, but I'll be here early Saturday before the match. Make sure to train hard until then!"

"Bye guys, I'll see you at lunch tomorrow!"

"Bye Shiori, Chika." Osamu offered up. Kuga only waved with his typical un-serious expression. Instead he bore the weight of navigating japanese conversation and pleasantries once more. Perhaps he had been over-optimistic that Kuga would be a quick study; unless the topic revolved around attacking, he seemed out of his depth. While Osamu felt similarly stranded himself, having needed a tutor in not just academics but in agent training as well, he was still somehow better off than the boy. Was this why Jin recruited him? Was it an offered hand or a form of protection? And if so, who was being protected? Not that it mattered. Kuga was here now. Who knows where Jin was. Ever since their talk he had neither seen nor heard of the other. Granted, it had only happened last night but still. What was he to think? That he single-handedly drove the elite agent out of his won base? All the signs were there...

How was he supposed to navigate them through a rank war when he could hardly navigate himself through the day? With Kuga's consistency thrown into question after the recent Murakami fiasco and Chika falling pray to a similar trap, he was starting to wonder if Shiroi was the only member of their team with any form of common sense when it came to social conduct. Clearly he was no example if Jin were to simply turn him away so briskly.

No, that was unfair to Jin. He carried on in his grace and kindness to the end. Not that anything had ended. Their relationship would stay exactly the same. Just as he secretly dreaded it would.
"Hey, Osamu, Yuma, what are you two space cadets doing? Dinners getting cold.

"Space cadets?" He winced at how much his confused tone sounded like Kuga's at his most confused. In the face of his mentor however, there was little to be done aside fall for his trick. Something about the look on his face however seemed to loosen the seriously deceptive side of him.

"Air heads? You guys are standing around spacing out when there's perfectly good pasta on the table. Let's go." At least there were small mercies.

"How was your team meeting?" Kuga took a bite full of food, chewing with the same veracity as a starving man. He hoped he wouldn't have to go over table manners with this guy soon too. What would Jin do? His heart panged. It was poisonous to think this way, yet such thoughts were what had carried him thus far. Faith in Jin and Yuma. Jin was still going to support him but part of him knew a wall had been put in place that may never be removed now. All thanks to his words and decisions. His greed. Yuma was still going to try his best to carry out his orders but one person could only carry a team so far in combat. They were all secretly waiting for Kuga to slip up? He wasn't sure what would become of them when faced with the reality everyone whispered about; when Kuga failed how would they carry on?

"That bad huh? What about your training? Izumi said you were coming along by the end."

"Well that's nice of him, I'm still just a work in progress." Sure Izumi could say that, but such sounded closer to crocodile tears than a report in of true growth. Kitora seemed to be the most honest with him in regards to his skill, or lack there of. Why was it so obvious to everyone he was weak? What made him appear so inferior in the face of someone like Kuga? He did feel a distant pang, the trickles of appreciation that despite her cutting tongue, Kitora had not seemed to be lying. In the face of false kindness after false hope, this seemed sweet somehow? Was that what Yuma felt all the time with his lie detection? He passively wondered how long the dishonesty of the world around would have to weigh on him and wear away before he started calling out lies in the company of strangers. At least this quirk was helpful in negotiations and political battles; it seemed Director Kido agreed. He always looked so strangely focused when he saw Kuga at the meeting. Even he felt unsettled by how fixated the man's gaze had been on the form, but largely the half-lidded eyes of the neighbor at the time. Osamu wondered how they felt though had the heart to speak what neither of them after the fact. Instead gravitating towards Kikuchihara.

'You were useless in your last match.'

'Once the white-haired shrimp folds, your team is quick to follow.'

'He's not at the level where he can learn from me yet.'

"Don't be do down on yourself Osamu, Border's number one shooter spoke highly of your progress an efforts alike. Just relax." He forced himself to comply by taking a bit of his own. Delicious as always. He felt unworthy.

"I think you should be proud of yourself. You've been B-rank for what? A month? And you're already holding your own against lower A-rank agents."

"Really? Who did you spar with Osamu? You said you were going to receive shooter training. Do the other combat types have solo rank wars too?"

"Not really, although anyone is free to participate. Osamu sparred a bit with a guy from Tachikawa squad named Yuiga. He's a shooter, like Osamu. Always helpful to spar with people at or near your skill level. That's why Jin is so 'pr-rival', as ironic as it sounds."

"A member of Tachikawa squad? They are currently the number one ranked squad, correct?"

"Yeah, but Yuiga doesn't have much to do with that. He participated in team battles exclusively and while he has improved, I'm not sure he's ever gotten a point on his own. His nickname is the weakest A-ranker. Most upper A ranks don't have a problem saying as much to his face but not many of the lower ranked agents know so maybe keep this too yourselves. Or atleast say you heard as much from someone else."

"How strange. Is this another instance of someone being inappropriately ranked?"

"Another?"

"Earlier today, I heard Kageura was one of the few agents Murakami could not beat consistently in battle. Yet he is ranked number twenty instead of third while Murakami is number four. Is this a similar situation?"

"Not really. Kageura had points taken away and was demoted as a punishment so he's ranked lower than he should be but Yuiga? He's basically a sponsor. Never had skills of his own to begin with so he's ranked way higher than he should be. He participates exclusively in rank war battles. "

"What does sponsor mean?"

"Basically, someone who donates a substantial amount of money to Border so we can cover our cost of operations; keep the lights on, further trigger research and development, pay our salaries, nothing is free. Yuiga is the son of Border's largest sponsor. knowing this, when he enrolled Yuiga demanded to be placed on an A-rank team. He initially tried to squeeze onto Kako's team; that was never going to happen he doesn't meet her criteria in the least."

"Sorry to interrupt your answer with another question, but what do you mean by criteria?" He found himself intrigued. How skilled were A rank teams that they could afford to be picky and selective with their members. He sort of assumed they all just worked their way up slowly. Yet another thing to investigate rather than think of Jin.

"Well, Kako herself is quite the talented agent. Currently captain of Kako squad, A rank number six. She has a very specific vision for her team you could say. She only curates the best of the best for teammates, people she considers to be incredibly skilled, naturally talented and hard working. It's rare that she approaches folks with offers to join her squad so when it happens it's sort of a big deal; like getting a stamp of approval that you're a cut above the rest."

"So if an agent has been recruited by Kako, they are considered talented?"

"More than talented; exceptional. She has a sixth sense for this stuff though there is another factor that limits who she approaches. And most of the agents she tries to recruit end up turning her down."

"Another factor?"

"It's not really important. Back to Yuiga, after being refused by Kako and Arashiyama squad, Kido got sick of dealing with him and threw him onto Tachikawa squad. I don't think they're giving him the A-rank experience he envisioned."

"Oh. So there were multiple ways to become A-rank."

"Only if you want an empty title. Without the skills to back it up, you'll never be entrusted with proper missions and the rank means nothing. Now hurry up and finish. I can't head home until I clean those plates."

"Hm..." Kuga returned to his food.

"We can take care of it. You were nice enough to cook dinner for us after all."

"Nice has nothing to do with it; just another part of my job." He turned back to his plate. What about his own job...?

He couldn't keep being callous towards Kuga. No matter how much he wanted to thrash and scream and demand space, to refuse to look at anyone, to look himself up while he swept up the broken fragments of his heart. no one had wounded him. How could he explain that the delicate fabric of his heart was snagged on a jagged edge by an offered hand and he had slowly been trying to stitch the pieces together ever since? What would he say when words of comfort weighed down on him enough to spawn tears? What would he do when his resolve finally caved and the sorrow and remorse at his own false hopes threatened to consume him.

Tomorrow was Friday. Their next match was on Saturday. He really had no time left to plan, less to wallow, yet he knew no work would be accomplished within the base. Not when there was even the slightest chance he may glimpse the man whom still haunted his dreams. How could he expunge Jin from the recesses of his own mind when he continued to be one of his primary motivators? His source of information? Who could he turn to in his infinite confusion to serve as a guidepost without ripping his heart open anew?
He wasn't sure and he hadn't the slightest clue where to find the answers. All he knew for certain, however, was none of this would be accomplished here. Despite having just moved onto base he needed a break. A few days back home, where the shadow beneath his door was Mom, her hugs and cooking. She was distant and strict but fair and caring. No never doubted her love, questioned if she had ulterior motives; a parent always acted in their child's best interests. Just a few days away, regroup, refocus. Next match would be their make or break. Once they won this one they would be in the top of B-rank, ready to break through and challenge an A rank team. He would have to ask Shiori how long they needed to hold a top seat in upper B rank before being allowed to take a chance at moving up. How much longer was left for him to train? What other skills could he hope to acquire between now and then?

"-mu?"

Would he find a way for Chika to keep being useful without putting her at more risk? Would Kuga be able to carry them on despite the crowds of decent calling for his fated fall that would doom their team? Where did he fit into all this? An ideas guy didn't have a proper place on the field.

"Osamu?"

"What do you want Kuga?"

"Are you sure you're alright? Kyosuke went home just now, and Rindo is putting Yotaro to bed. Did you want to head upstairs too?"

"Oh, sure I guess."

"Alright. Let us go."

"You could just say let's go Kuga; no need to use such perfect grammar and formal speech all the time."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It kinda makes you sound like a robot or something."

"I see..."

Did he? Doubtful. He sighed as he pulled himself up with a stretch, stiff from the slouch. He had sunken into whilst he spiraled.

"A robot is a machine made to look and act like a person, but it's fake, just a computer program with metal parts."

"So you do need flesh and blood to be a person, huh?"

"Well-" He caught himself just before the obviously' could slip out. No. 'Please Osamu.' He recalled the sheer desperation in Replica's tone, what he falsely assumed was a mere robot, as he outright begged Osamu. 'Please give Yuma a purpose. He needs that to hold on.' Nothing about this was 'obvious' at all.

He knew he had pushed Kuga away a bit since everything. Since his feelings for Jin threatened to swallow him whole unless voiced. Since this fresh wave of longing despair opened within him post-caving to his desire for a relationship proper was spoken. Since he was rejected he hadn't wanted to talk to anyone; especially someone who could tell the lie of his current condition apart from the words he recited to the world. Since he watched the boy's guardian be sliced in half and abducted; because of him. Gone because of him. He didn't care what Kuga said about who was responsible; he would never not feel guilty when he caught Yuma staring to a distant place or heard him sink into silence rather than a humdrum hypothetical. He did this. The least he could do was explain why.

"Hey, Kuga, would you mind coming to the roof with me for a bit? There's something I want to share with you."

If he was going to abandon the boy with his confusion for a few days, he figured the least he could do beforehand was offer a 'why'.

~
(Chika)

"Thanks again for the ride Shiori."

"It's really no problem at all. Honestly, all three of you combatants are so over-eager with your generosity.

"Oh...?" 'I wonder what she means...'

"Did Osamu end up telling you how his talk went?"

"...Now that you mention it no. He hasn't really brought anything up. Has he spoken to you at all about it?"

"No, nothing on my end. Though to be honest, if things had gone well I assume one of them would have shared something."

"One of them?"

"Well, yeah. They both live on base after all."

"Oh. Somehow I didn't know agent Jin lived on base, ever since we enlisted it feels as though I haven't seen him at all."

"He's been more slippery than usual lately."

"Oh? Why's that."

"Hard to say... Honestly, ever since you guys joined our branch things have been crazy. The senior agents stay a lot longer, some of our visitors had to change their schedules bit-"

"Visitors?"

"Yeah. Listen Chika, Tamakoma branch is old. There are a lot of secrets and things that are better kept quiet. Everyone at the branch is a kind-hearted person with the best interests of Mikado City in mind. I know that sounds kinda scary and cryptic, but some questions are best left unanswered. Director Rindo tends to operate on a need to know basis, and considering how new Tamakoma-2 is, most of what happens behind the scenes you guys don't need to know."

"Is Yuma's enlistment in Border one of those secrets too? Like where he was before he joined?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is. After today, I'm sure you can infer what might happen if-"

"After today?"

"Listen Chika, I know the guys didn't make a big deal about it, and I was honest when I said this is not the end of the world, but gathering intelligence on your opponents is an important part of the rank wars because it's a vital part of combat. Especially on the other side, some of the stories I hear, of the lengths people in the neighborhood will go to learn something-"

"Like the rad attack on our city."

"Yes, that's a great example. All I'm trying to say is this stuff is really serious. Take Konami for example. She is pretty gullible, but even she knows when and what to keep to herself. It can be a serious safety issue."

"Do you think more agents will come after Yuma if they learn he comes from the neighborhood?"

"Honestly, I would hope not but better safe than sorry. At the very least it could cause an uproar and a wave of conspiracy theories or people trying to cross over themselves."

"Like with Miss Hatohara... I understand. I know that some things are confidential. Are there any other secrets I shouldn't share?"

"Preferably no discussing team tactics with members outside of it. Even your mentors. They are great resources to go to for advice and questions, but better to limit the access to information they have. Since communication can carry both ways. Even if they have no intention of selling you out, they could accidentally let something slip."

"By 'they' do you mean miss Konami?"

"That girl is a handful. Thankfully, I don't get the impression she and Yuma do much talking. There's is a quieter, more violent relationship it seems."

"...Surely they must talk sometimes though?"

"Hm?" Shiori glanced back at her, clearly struggling to hear over the hum of the engine. Too much background noise.

"Well, I was just thinking that mister Kizaki and I tend to talk a bit now before and after training. He's constantly adjusting the basic drills I should be running independently and..."

"And? ... You don't have to continue if you don't want to Chika?"

"I know. Thank you. And lately he's been trying to help me talk through my fear. The one of shooting people that is."

"Ah..."

"Anyway, I talk with my mentor, and I have seen Osamu and mister Kyosuke chatting regularly about training schedules and tactics or advice on how to approach a situation-"

"That's right, Torimaru is great at that sort of thing."

"And what about miss Konami?"

"She tends to talk more with her fists than her feelings. Seems she and Kuga are well matched in that regard."

"Really...?"

"Well yeah. He's got that whole 'rough and tumble thing going on'. Like, 'bite me and I'll bite back', you know? I think they're a good pair in that way. Konami has someone who can handle it when she needs to vent her anger on a punching bag and Kuga can continue to refine his skills against a stronger opponent. Seems a win win to me."

"I guess that makes sense." Only from what she had seen, while he took pride in his abilities and thought of fighting often, he seemed to see the world through far more than a fighter's lens. If anything, she got the impression that we was limited by the amount of space fighting consumed within him. She thought back to his face at the flower shop, small fingers softly tracing petals and parting leaves with the same sort of tenderness and delicacy one might use with a kitten or a newborn, how in awe he was of the smell and the sheer concentration of colors. He did ask after all the meanings of flowers from nearly half the shop of course. Or the pure, unadulterated glee that overcame his tone when she had first been helping him learn to ride a bicycle, something close to glee that she had heard nothing of since.. It still seemed strange to her to need instruction on such a simple task when he was already fifteen, but such spoke more to her point than Shiori's.

Not that it mattered much regardless. Yuma would carry on as he always did, she should be worried about herself. That's what he and Osamu had been warning her about right? To put her own safety first? Except what was the use of surviving if she couldn't score them any points? Sure she had only lost one so far, but having not earned any stung. 'It would be great if they thought you couldn't shoot, then you blew them all away.' Her mind snagged on Yuma's words from earlier. Despite the concerns of their other teammates, Yuma seemed far from worried about her failure to conceal valuable intelligence or seemingly perform under pressure. Rather than frenzied placations, he offered a somewhat cheeky grin and a suggestion, with that joking expression of a duck face and serious tone that arose from his somewhat monotone lilt. He offered her a solution without making it seem serious. He was the only one to see a fighter in her however so she took his words to heart, rare as they were. She wanted to live up to his expectations, take the suggestion, fire a shot, be of use. This was the least she could do to repay their patience, their kindness, their-

"Here we are." Lights stood on from the living room. Of course she came back too early. There was a reason she preferred walking but the air after the meeting felt dense. The boys needed a break. As did she but with the match in two days... Well.

"Thanks again Shiori. Did you still want to hang out tomorrow afternoon?"

"Of course! Meet me at the base after school, and we can all grab an early dinner at that cafe I was telling you about. I'm excited to get to meet miss Izuho too!"

"See you then Shiori, good night!"

"Good night Chika!" She slowly closed the door, waved at her operator, and went round the side of the house in the hopes that the voices she heard were from a tv with the volume raised rather than her relatives. She knew the truth. Swallowed it down while she slide the key into the back door's lock. A glance at the moon, the darkend sky speckled by stars. She was only delaying the inevitable screeching. Just a few minutes of smiling and nodding until she would be free. Would said freedom not be wasted though? No. She refused to carry on in a negative spiral. She would step up for their next match.

She would shoot someone down. In two days, she would shred a trion body. What could possibly go wrong? What was there to be afraid of, really...?

~

(Yuma)

The stars were silent sentries before Osamu and himself. He kept his dangling feet facing the door rather than hovering over the abyss as he preferred. Osamu himself sat with his toes touching the ground, a slight slouch to his otherwise similar posture. Plenty of space stayed between them, same as the stars, though he knew at their core was a raging fire. Warmth beyond his reach.

This feeling which flowed up from some hidden part of himself, through the cracks of his core, perhaps even from a place that may be preached as real. He felt his soul sing at the thought of Osamu within his proximity. The melodic sound of his voice as he worked his way through some problem or other. How his blush would burst forth is rare moments, unexpected and easily document-able. His persistent effort towards the goal he proclaimed before the world on behalf of others. He would help Osamu no matter what, in any way he possibly could; in every way he was allowed. Had there ever been a time he felt so strongly for another?

Dad, obviously, and Replica. Mom, too perhaps, but that was trickier; a fuzzier sort of faded feeling. Those were all more pillars which helped him stay sane and whole in a world of war and woeful watchers. His innate nature may have been contrary to all of their missions but the truth was each time one of his foundational pillars died more of himself was lost. There was nothing left to support him now. He floated in the vast sea of nothingness; the void his father described the neighborhood to be. Little existed beyond concentric paths that played round particular patterns.

Yet Osamu lifted him up. He felt something he long thought vacant stir deep within him. There was another thing too; Osamu sung up from deep within the parts of himself he long since thought rotted away. A spark of sorts. A flutter that threatened to tickle his fingers and toes while little dances were tapped out on the space his stomach should be. He was unsure what could possibly have effected him so, yet the notion of seeing his captain more frequently had sunk an instance of some sort of longing within him. A potential liking. Would anyone ever return the favor if Yuma himself was the one to share? Who could look at him and accept his flaws, his lack, his degraded state?

Osamu deserved sunshine, the sky the world. How could he even voice the words that needed to carry his captain's heart to another place all the same? How could he convince love to grow in the heart of another when he could not even call for as much within himself? He was a coward. A fool. Trained to run away and taught to live with that truth. He may still be living but he had not been alive in years. Osamu had started to change that for him. He was at once forever indebted and eternally horrified by the sorts of places his mind took him to these days.
The roof door creaked open. He forced his gaze to stay forward for a few seconds. Osamu took his time to sink in next to him.

"Was Shiori really okay with taking Chika home tonight?"

"Yeah... After the meeting we had I'm not surprised she offered... Besides, if Chika missed a family dinner, she probably wants to be back home quick."

"What about the meeting incentivized her to bring Chika home?"

"You were there Yuma."

"...Yes, as were you, Shiori, and Chika."

"All of our opponents know she can't shoot now."

"Yes? And as we agreed in the meeting, this changes little. You told her not to divulge such information to potential enemies in the future, she knows to relocate carefully after every shot, is there anything left to worry over?"

"Always." He wished he was surprised. There was time to think of a lack of plan later. Dear as Osamu is to him, a few counter-measures based on prior performances, generalized coordinated movements as a team and confidence as individuals were all wonderful training measures, but could not constitute a solid or actionable plan. Compared to the meticulous plans and various hypotheticals Osamu previously presented when tactics came up, this seemed half-hazard at best. Beyond the strangeness of expectations and reality parting paths on the matter of his captain, or fear of his teammates' failed dreams, this was absolutely uncharacteristic. How long had Osamu felt off? Unwell? How many minutes, hours, days, had he sat by and ignorantly failed his friend? What could cause a falter in his partner?

He should ask after his captain's concerns but in a moment of weakness asked the question which burned at himself instead. All he could hope were they were one and the same.

"Did you have your conversation yet? You seemed so enthusiastic yesterday, yet you have not spoken of such today."

"Ah... Yeah. Yeah I did. I confessed my feelings-" Yuma's mind reeled mid statement.

'But I haven't seen you alone in almost a day, how could you have-'

"-to Jin and he rejected them completely. I can't say I'm surprised but I am pretty disappointed. Honestly, what was I expecting to happen?"

"Oh... So the important person was-"

"Was Jin yeah. He was really polite too. Caring, understanding, God, even the way he turned my down was attractive. He's just so considerate. I want to be more like him."

"Well there's nothing wrong with admiring a person, right?"

"It clearly depends on what way. There's nothing wrong with respecting someone, or admiring from afar I suppose. But the closer you get to the sun the more likely you are to get burned!"

"Oh? Is this another saying?" A sigh. Heavy.

"Yes. The sun also emits heat and light. That's why the days are warmer than nights."

"Oh, interesting, I never thought of that." He saw Osamu sink lower. Felt his words pick up weight as he had to spell out the literal world for the ignorant neighbor. Maybe there was a chance to course correct. Maybe, as Replica did for him on the nights he wanted to feel enemies rip him to shreds in the absence of sleep, he could offer a distraction. He knew exactly what this time. Hope made his non-existent heart pound faster; he pretended. He forced a deep breath before he continued, his partner still lost in the stars.

"What if I like you Osamu?"

"Well that'd be weird!"

"That was fast..."

"What, you weren't serious- Er-" Yuma made sure to keep his face neutral, his body relaxed, even if he couldn't help the slight turn away, the casual shutting down. He stared at the skyline. He sat normally. Osamu still must have sensed something. Or it was his weird, overly helpful instinct, kicking in to cover his bases as he hurried to continue.

"Oh... Wow, um, I care about you a lot Yuma, just as a friend though. You're someone whose really important to me, but you're a bit wild, so-"

"Wild?"

"Yeah, wild, you know?"

"No, what do you mean by that?"

"Oh... What do I mean by that? Well, I meant to say your energy is really intense; it's what makes you a great fighter and straight-forward to talk to, with how blunt you can be, but also a lot... Some people need a break sometimes, but there's nothing wrong with being intense, or needing a break it just means we're not the most compatible, in that way. But I enjoy spending time with you, talking about strategy-"

"I understand now Osamu, you can stop."

"Oh, okay." He pulled in a breath as he smashed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks. A perfect moment to 'duck face'. Somewhere on a faraway battlefield, where his heart should be, something withered. Died.

"You were right, I was only kidding. No need to make this awkward. I understand now that it would be weird if I liked you... But I hope you know you are a very likable person Osamu. I hope... I hope you connect with someone that feels the same way about you, that you do them."

"Thanks Yuma, I appreciate that. And, I really thought I found that person in Jin but... If I'm being honest with myself... Maybe Jin was just a place-holder until I can see Rinji again. I mean, they both inspired me so much, pushed me to be better. They held me and supported me and had my back in a way no one ever had before. Rinji more than Jin... It had just been awhile, so I got caught up in that fluttery feeling. This is all for the best though; I'm sure. Now I can re-focus on my goals. No distractions this time. Not until we've got Rinji, and hopefully Aoba back as well. Oh yeah, Replica too of course!"

Every word he heard crushed him down a little further. His side-effect had not triggered once. Every word was true. Replica was an after-thought. He was- Yuma tried for a sigh; to regain any sensation but all he felt was numb. Distant. Only a huff was mustered. He resolutely refused to process any of this until the man next to him was absent. He shifted his focus back to consoling Osamu. That's what partners should do, right? Was he allowed to use that word anymore...? Desperate, he flung himself back in the direction of their conversation. He couldn't look at Osamu but maybe his voice could pull himself back into his alleged body a bit again. At least enough to stay together until they weren't.

"What do you plan to do now then?" 'What do people on this side do when faced with rejection?'

"I'll probably stay at my Mom's house for a few days and cry about it. I plan to keep living at Tamakoma, I just moved in and all, but I need some space for a couple days... Lame, I know, but letting the tears out always helps me feel better. That, a bucket of ice cream and a few good nights sleep is all I'll need. Don't expect the quickest responses though; sorry. I'll bounce back soon. With twice as many strategies to talk over I'm sure. I'll grab copies of rank war logs to brush over while I'm gone."

"I understand. Take as much time as you need." He couldn't bring himself to add the usual 'partner'. Not after tonight.

"Thanks. Don't stay up here too late." He didn't add it either. Maybe he just didn't notice. Yuma's right hand tried to twitch into a fist but he forced it flat. Not that he felt anything against the stony edge. The man of smiles and distractions and obligatory kindness stood up. His footsteps may as well have echoed off the stars for how distant they sounded across the rooftop. The door hinges creaked.

"Osamu wait!"

The man of his dreams, holder of his heart's remains, ender of his world, turned to spare him a smile. To grace a failure, someone in need, with a moment's worth of attention.

"...What's your favorite ice cream?" Osamu almost laughed in his face again. Instead he finished the fatal blow with another smile.

"A bit boring, but I like vanilla myself. With the right toppings, you might enjoy it too. Good night." The door shut firmly behind him; their worlds separate once more.

He was such a coward, yet food was the only thread of commonality he could muster. A good night's sleep? He stopped trying on day six of being trapped in this body. Cry it out? Whatever 'it' was, tears would not be the form of departure. If the desired effect was chemical he was completely screwed on that front as his current body was incapable of producing fluids. Besides, if he hadn't cried for Dad's death, the loss of his last flesh and blood relation, then what right did he have to mourn the loss of a relationship that had never been? He was just lucky Osamu hadn't turned him over to Border authorities sooner. Osamu had given him a chance, a moment to offer up his measly excuses and learn how to do better. To wash away cracks in the mud.

But there was no mud, only cement. Yuma was 'wild' and his mistakes could never be balanced out by lives saved or deeds done. Maybe Osamu was starting to realize he never should have been afforded this space. That his complex to help people in need was, as it should be, relegated to people. He gave up the right to call himself that years ago. His ability to grow, to recover, to change, all taken for his arrogance, disobedience and sheer idiocy. Why did Dad die in an attempt to remedy this? Trapped in a body unable to grieve it's own ability to mourn, how could he be foolish enough to claim to 'like' another? A true flesh and blood human no less? Who had committed no sin greater than caring too much?

Aside from the hole he dug to stake himself a military asset he was nothing. And even then, a broken blade would only do in a pinch. He was surrounded by blades being carefully honed and molded to a razor's edge. He didn't even have raw materials to try and wrap around all the rust and dents anymore. The cracks in strange places. Stories people saw but never sought to ask about. If someone asked, maybe he could share and the pressure built up, over what felt to be decades, could be relieved just a tiny bit. Or maybe the dam would break and his shattered self would unveil a rampage of all the misery he kept close on his lonely nights. Every night for the past month. Neither mattered. The last person to ask was...

~

(Jin)

He couldn't breath.

His fingertips felt numb as he clung on for all he was worth, all he could be.

"Yuichi." The speaker's breath sounded similarly strangled. An unwinding of all things.

"That- ha- That all you've got to say?" He refused to cave. He was an elite agent. If this was his down fall so be it.

His thumb traced the corner of Kei's mouth where it stretched up, up, up. He would steal sights of that smirk for hours in the daylight, could call back every memory of the movements which made such a look possible. Yet he would never trade that image for the satisfaction of feeling fleeting laughter beneath his fingertips. All at once they flipped. Kei pressed him down and carried on his relentless assault.

Jin struggled ,of course. No agent worth their salt would simply drop without a fight but Kei knew as much. He was always more prepared for these sorts of engagements. Their differences in tactics felt almost as divine as the lips nibbling round his neck.

"Leave them lower, dumb- ah!"

"If you can still talk clearly I'm not doing my job."

"Or maybe you're just not very good at this." Jin's turn to smirk as he flipped them once more to re-assert the high-ground in his favor. Kei reached up to try to steal his lips with his own anyway.

A fair few minutes later he could breath a bit easier.

Kei's laugh was music. He had never been so happy to have his eyes closed. Channels blurred in a distorted smudge in sync with rhythmic circles run about by Jin's exploratory hands.

"That was-"

"Is."

"Don't go trying to cut the moment short."

"I-" Kei stole his attention and breath alike with yet another fervent kiss.

"You are amazing as always Kei."

"And you're so quick to run back into that head of yours."

"You make it challenging." He snickered before peppering his hairline with more kisses. Jin bit back a laugh of his own while the man's goatee tickled his brow.

"That's my job. To be a pain in your-" This time he stole his boyfriend's breath. The warmth of another would never cease to soothe him. Anyone would succumb to a touch gentle as Kei's. A beach, a breeze, a coming home. The only thing more soothing than his fingers parting his hair were the words he used to call him back whenever he was too far in foresight. Sometimes he felt there was little he could offer in return, yet Kei never asked. He never took. Not about visions. Never about what he saw.

"Yes, well, you're very good at it."

"We've got a dinner date later tonight."

"Tonight? It's two am by now."

"Heh. I'm not as good at my job as I thought if your internal clock is still ticking. You know what that means yes?"

"Happy valentine's day."

"And to you as well. Now any idea where dinner might be?"

"Hard to say, you booked reservations at so many spots."

"Well, gotta keep you guessing."

"You always deliver. And after dinner?"

"Well, we may still be hungry-"

"Doubtful."

His interruption was met with a kiss once more.

"Why assume that I did all the planning?"

"Because you get more pleasure from spoiling me than making your own demands. That being said, I know what makes you tick too."

"Hm. Make sure you're not late for our date then."

"Oh? College finally paying off?"

 

"As if. Shinoda threatened to demote me if I didn't take at least a couple courses every semester."

"And at what point will you best your mentor?" He smiled. He slouched his shoulders right; smiled seductively. Yet Kei could tell when he slipped. Of all the people who picked hum up after the death of Mogami, Kei was always the quickest to see. Although, he suspected, this same tendency was the reason he distanced himself from his own mentor. For better or worse, after Kei learned the truth behind Mogami's death he had stopped challenging Shinoda, seeking out solo battles and rank wars for a challenge instead. Unfortunately for him, few could pose a real challenge to him these days. He liked to consider himself an exception.

"Hard to say, I'm not in the mood to try much these days."

"Sorry."

"Don't just-" A finger was pressed to his lips. Eyes of sleet lanced across a field of blue. Kei spoke sternly in a whisper while his finger stayed locked in place; a gently persistent reminder.

"We both agreed there were certain things we would neither speak of nor do for the next twenty four hours... But if you really need to get it out-"

"Just a couple contentious points."

"Can't leave well enough alone, can you?"

"Please Kei, just a few minutes?"

"Do whatever you need to Yuichi, I'm not stopping you but I will snap back."

"I just... You're really okay about the whole Four-eyes confession thing?" A snort. As reassuring as it was surprising, he was still somewhat relieved to hear the sound however.

"I'm not jealous of Four-eyes, Yuichi. I think it's kinda funny. Honestly, I'm surprised yo don't get more love confessions; only a matter of time before Midorikawa starts getting ideas."

"Okay, okay, I just wanted to check."

"My turn. What's your plan for the Neighbor shrimp?"

"I need to give Osamu some space to cool down and regroup after our chat. Yuma's got nothing to do with that; I'll talk to him soon. But who knows. The future changes all the time. Whose to say I'll even get the chance?"

"After today you're gonna be pretty hard to get ahold of, huh?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Gut feeling."

 

"Heh. Just say it; thought you were gonna be snappy?"

"I don't want to fight, Yuichi. Just tell me if it's avoidance, precaution, if it's work related-"

"Okay, I get it. I won't be the only person pre-occupied if that makes you feel better."

"But you don't deny that avoidance is a part of it?"

"...I'm not really sure how much longer that will be an option for me. But you're right about one thing, at the very least I'll be quite busy for the next couple weeks. Then things get crazy for you too."

"C'mon, don't tell me that. You know I prefer surprises."

"Our fight in December wasn't surprising enough?"

"Yeah, that's the stuff I'm talking about."

"Then I shall say no more."

Jin shoved him off with a smile, eyes still closed as he floated pleasantly. He felt the light against his face from Kei's smartphone followed by a low groan.

"Awfully obsessed with the time tonight."

"Yeah, I better get going. I've got defense duty in thirty." With a grunt he rolled off the bed and started his search for a clean pair of pants.

"Tell me again how the supposed number one attacker gets roped into the dawn shift for defense duties?"

"I had to trade to guarantee tonight off."

"You forgot to request time off~" He practically purred with smugness. Kei offered a glare and started chucking their previously discarded clothes at the cackling lump on his bed.

"There's only one reason people take time off today Yuichi, half of Border requested off today. This is a delicate situation. Besides, can't you just say 'thank you' for this sacrifice I'm making for us."

"Which us exactly. All I see is you leaving me alone, all hot and bothered."

"Don't you even-"

"I could get into all kinds of trouble when you're gone."

"But you won't because otherwise, I won't give you the desert I planned for us after dinner."

"Hm? What happened to it being my job to-" Kei came into his space once more all sweet lips and insistent touches. He was cruel. A savage creature. He couldn't get enough of it. Despite being fully clothed now, Kei pushed back into his space until he was lying atop Jin once more.

With a final kiss he rolled onto the floor and threw a comforter over-top the younger man.

"Stop teasing and go to work already!"

"Be here by five."

"I'll see you at eight then."

"Don't you dare be late Yuichi." His retort died with his next exhale as he heard the lock click closed behind Kei. His apartment was pretty close to the base but closer to campus. His parents helped him pick it out, move in. He didn't talk with, or of, them much. Jin never asked. Those weren't the details that mattered to them.

What mattered was the moments they stole. He hoped they would continue to do so.

~