You feel only a tiny measure better now that you're immediately out of Citan's gaze, escorting your replacement around the base. You see Hubert, across the base, and pointedly don't approach, because you can't deal with trying to explain to him what's going on, why the last nail in your coffin is walking next to you asking - actually, they're very thoughtful questions. Some of them you don't even have the answers to, either because you never thought to ask in the first place or because you've lost them over the last few months where you moved in a daze.
There seems to be a pattern to them, though you're not sure exactly what the pattern is, everything else taking up too much of your thoughts - you've gotten good at putting a mask, a film, a soft-looking layer of snow over the way your thoughts are frozen, but the way that Asch cuts past it all makes you think of a wind blade, rather than a dark blade, another form of truth blowing all your hiding places away.
You're leading him around the back of a building, out of sight of anyone else on the base but only for a moment - when Asch comes to a sudden stop.
He says, "Brace yourself however you need to to keep one hell of a shock from leaking into the bleed."
You hesitate, turning a half-step towards him as you pause on the path. You don't know what to expect, because -
(You can't handle another Mythra. You can't hide another Mythra, not from Citan and not from yourself.)
You say, "I would prefer not to."
"I'm going to do what I'm going to do whether you're in or not," Asch says, and there's a straightening-up of him again. No change in the emotional bleed, but he controls it as tightly as you do, which perhaps explains why his posture is almost overpronounced, a banner of his determination hanging from his brows. "You can't just expect a justice blade to sit back and watch, Jade. That's not what we do."
You know it. You know that, better than he has any idea, and it makes something you refuse to acknowledge tighten and crack around your control, because you know, you know how much waiting was killing Mythra even before it killed Mythra -
"He'll kill you," you say, because that's what your thoughts hang up on. "Even if you manage it - you'll die."
Something tight, in your chest. You should -
(If you kill him here, then Citan will certainly kill you. No more playing around.)
(And you aren't going to defend Citan in even that smallest of ways.)
"It wouldn't be the first time," Asch says, with the same set of determination pulled tight around him, a spot of darkness and blood-red hair against the glare of the snow.
It takes a moment for the words to sink through the drifts around your thoughts. It wouldn't be the first time.
Asch remembers. Asch is a blade who remembers, and he has killed his driver before.
You seize your emotions and flash-freeze them, another addition to the glacier in the cavity in your chest, and reflect that he did warn you, for a single insane moment, before thought resembling rationality reasserts itself.
(He's better at hiding it than Mythra. If he hadn't told you, you don't think you would have put it together, at least not this soon.)
"In that case," you say, "you'll forgive me for saying that I have a more vested interest in the matter than you. Not all of us are so lucky as to keep our memories."
"I didn't think I would." It's no less determined, but there's something raw underneath, a desparation that... Hits uncomfortably close to home. You remember thinking don't let it get to five. You think about being a blade with nothing to lose. "I thought..." Asch finally looks away from you, going quiet, but not at all because he's backing down. There's something far too melancholy about it for that.
"And that was worth it, to you?" you ask, trying for simple curiosity and knowing, knowing that you aren't sticking the landing, but too (exhausted) (frozen) to care.
"Didn't I just tell you that I'd do it again?" And once again, here's the blade who stalked out from right under Citan's nose, this time with exasperation that actually leaks into the emotional bleed, startling you when you realize that you're feeling it. It doesn't make you smile. It doesn't, because the part of you that would smile at something like that is frozen solid.
All too quickly, though, Asch sombers up again, and he says, "I know more about flesh eaters than any other blade you're going to run into in the next week, and I have no desire to become one. Take that knowledge and figure out shit out for yourself."
And with that, he turns and walks off - as much, you think, because you can feel Citan approaching from the direction of the labs as anything, no doubt wondering why the two of you were standing in one place behind a building for so long. You follow after, your mind not at all on your feet.
A week, then. Asch might not have intended it to be a deadline, but you'll make it one. You sure as hell haven't managed to get anything done without a deadline thus far.
One week, you tell the building where dormant core crystals are locked away, as you pass it by. Just another week.
no subject
There seems to be a pattern to them, though you're not sure exactly what the pattern is, everything else taking up too much of your thoughts - you've gotten good at putting a mask, a film, a soft-looking layer of snow over the way your thoughts are frozen, but the way that Asch cuts past it all makes you think of a wind blade, rather than a dark blade, another form of truth blowing all your hiding places away.
You're leading him around the back of a building, out of sight of anyone else on the base but only for a moment - when Asch comes to a sudden stop.
He says, "Brace yourself however you need to to keep one hell of a shock from leaking into the bleed."
You hesitate, turning a half-step towards him as you pause on the path. You don't know what to expect, because -
(You can't handle another Mythra. You can't hide another Mythra, not from Citan and not from yourself.)
You say, "I would prefer not to."
"I'm going to do what I'm going to do whether you're in or not," Asch says, and there's a straightening-up of him again. No change in the emotional bleed, but he controls it as tightly as you do, which perhaps explains why his posture is almost overpronounced, a banner of his determination hanging from his brows. "You can't just expect a justice blade to sit back and watch, Jade. That's not what we do."
You know it. You know that, better than he has any idea, and it makes something you refuse to acknowledge tighten and crack around your control, because you know, you know how much waiting was killing Mythra even before it killed Mythra -
"He'll kill you," you say, because that's what your thoughts hang up on. "Even if you manage it - you'll die."
Something tight, in your chest. You should -
(If you kill him here, then Citan will certainly kill you. No more playing around.)
(And you aren't going to defend Citan in even that smallest of ways.)
"It wouldn't be the first time," Asch says, with the same set of determination pulled tight around him, a spot of darkness and blood-red hair against the glare of the snow.
It takes a moment for the words to sink through the drifts around your thoughts. It wouldn't be the first time.
Asch remembers. Asch is a blade who remembers, and he has killed his driver before.
You seize your emotions and flash-freeze them, another addition to the glacier in the cavity in your chest, and reflect that he did warn you, for a single insane moment, before thought resembling rationality reasserts itself.
(He's better at hiding it than Mythra. If he hadn't told you, you don't think you would have put it together, at least not this soon.)
"In that case," you say, "you'll forgive me for saying that I have a more vested interest in the matter than you. Not all of us are so lucky as to keep our memories."
"I didn't think I would." It's no less determined, but there's something raw underneath, a desparation that... Hits uncomfortably close to home. You remember thinking don't let it get to five. You think about being a blade with nothing to lose. "I thought..." Asch finally looks away from you, going quiet, but not at all because he's backing down. There's something far too melancholy about it for that.
"And that was worth it, to you?" you ask, trying for simple curiosity and knowing, knowing that you aren't sticking the landing, but too (exhausted) (frozen) to care.
"Didn't I just tell you that I'd do it again?" And once again, here's the blade who stalked out from right under Citan's nose, this time with exasperation that actually leaks into the emotional bleed, startling you when you realize that you're feeling it. It doesn't make you smile. It doesn't, because the part of you that would smile at something like that is frozen solid.
All too quickly, though, Asch sombers up again, and he says, "I know more about flesh eaters than any other blade you're going to run into in the next week, and I have no desire to become one. Take that knowledge and figure out shit out for yourself."
And with that, he turns and walks off - as much, you think, because you can feel Citan approaching from the direction of the labs as anything, no doubt wondering why the two of you were standing in one place behind a building for so long. You follow after, your mind not at all on your feet.
A week, then. Asch might not have intended it to be a deadline, but you'll make it one. You sure as hell haven't managed to get anything done without a deadline thus far.
One week, you tell the building where dormant core crystals are locked away, as you pass it by. Just another week.