Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ausser Antwort

Prologue

These flowers don’t break just like that. Somebody stepped on him. And just a week ago, he---

He knew that this time, he didn’t come to Yukikaze’s grave to mourn, but to celebrate. In his dream, Yukikaze came to him, and told him that he came to meet him.

That he was reborn. And that Ayanami could now ask him in person and stop torturing himself.

But when Ayanami came to the grave a few days later – he needed a few days to finish an important matter beforehand – all he found was a few petals and a broken stem.

___________

You came to me.

You came to me for the third time. This time, you tried to attack me, because your mind… you mind can’t remember. You’re only human. But you came to me, against all odds, here, where I least expected it. Your soul must have wished it, on the day of your reincarnation.

You came to me and I was so busy with pointless fighting that for a second I haven’t recognised you. You wished to see me, I’m certain, and I...

You came to me, you soul wishing to be at my side, and I foolishly cut you down without looking, and if I didn’t devour Feist before, you---

You must hate me now, surely. Both your mind and soul. Because you came to me, to answer my question, and now---

Now, I’m the fool who surely changed you answer.

Don’t worry. I’m binding your soul to mine, but you won’t feel it. A young Antwort army recruit, huh? You will be my prisoner – but only until you recover. After that – you’re free, Yukikaze.

If I bothered to look – would you be my Begleiter again, in this life?

No matter. Now you’re sure to hate me and I lost this chance. Even so – thank you for coming. It means more to me than you, in this body and mind, will ever understand.

But I’ve said too much already, Yukikaze. Even more than I say on your grave. And I don’t even know your name.

It’s a slight comfort to know that in this life you won’t be indifferent to me, either. Hating me... means you’ll think of me sometimes. Thank you. There could be more – but I was blind, for this split second... so that is now lost.

*

He woke up, expecting, for some reason, to see the silver haired monster who almost cut off his arm with unbelievable swiftness, and then –

What happened then? That monster made a move to cut his throat, so quick that Shiro had no time to even think of defending himself, but then... it was as if time has stopped. Oh, not for Shiro, but he always tried to perceive how time passed for others. Talking to people whose time has stopped was so very exhausting, after all – he’s experienced that a time with his own mother.

(She wasn’t his own, she adopted him when he was five and pretended to remember nothing. But he remembered his mother, and his father, too – the monster in sunglasses, now that he really thought back to that fight. Still, saying that she was his was a nice lie for her whole life – till year ago – and so, that’s how it remained.)

He had no idea why the lavender-eyed monster’s time stopped, and he didn’t care. Right now, he was too busy wondering whether he should open his eyes and discover he may be dead or dying, lying in the puddle of his own blood and snow... or keep his eyelids shut for a second longer and pretend.

However...

“Heeeey, Shirokaze, chan, sleeping beauty! ~`Wakey, wakey, I can hear your mental gears shifting! And every second you’re asleep is a second longer that Aya-tan won’t go to sleep. And it’s been five daaaaays!!~`”

However... this voice was really grating, especially since it belonged to that monster’s aide. And... was almost unrecognizable, as the monster’s aide sounded much more serious while fighting those slave twins and other soldiers, too. So... the fact that he was somehow able to recognise it, anyway, was now strange to Shiro.

Besides. His name wasn’t Shirokaze. Or Yukikaze. Any ‘kaze’ at all had nothing to do with his name. It was Shiro, just Shiro. Shiro Mizuno. No winds involved.

The monsters, he’s decided, slowly opening his eyes for no good reason (it could be a trap), were insane. And that was all there was to it.

At least for the one with sunglasses and obnoxious voice, time hasn’t stopped, as far as Shiro could see. It ran, it quickened, it danced, it pulsated – no, nothing could ever make it stop short of death, Shiro was now sure of it.

“Aya-tan?” He mumbled.

Somehow, he already knew. This had to be about silver-haired monster. He didn’t know how he knew, but he felt such certainly that any doubts were instantly alleviated. Shiro might’ve be only twelve years old right now, sure, but when he was certain of something, nothing could sway his certainty.

“Ayanami-sama, but I like to tease him, you see *, “ the monster in sunglasses anwered with a huge grin. “And besides, I don’t know what name he had before, anyway. So you’d have an advantage here – if you weren’t a reborn baby, that is, Kaze-chan~~”

So cheerful, that voice. As if the he hadn’t just cut down all Shiro’s comrades. What was this man?

Still, Shiro was much too tired for insane ramblings. He forced himself to wake up too early and already he felt himself loosing what slight consciousness he had.

However, before everything went dark again, he thought he heard himself say “It’s Krowell. But don’t say the name to him if you don’t want to hurt him. Please, don’t.”

*

Shiro awoke again, and judging from the moon, it had to be the middle of the night.

The silver-haired monster was sitting in a chair now, instead of the other one. So, the monster who almost killed him. Somehow, Shiro wasn’t feeling any hatred right now. Maybe he was just too tired.

Also... did he really say something weird about silver-haired monster before?

Well. Only one way to find out.

“Krowell-san,” Shiro whispered.

The silver-haired monster – Aya-tan or Krowell, apparently – awoke with a start.

“Yu---Shiro,” ‘Krowell’ whispered, in a greeting that sounded so reverant, that just for a moment, Shiro had an illusion that to this man, Shiro was... an avatar of some saint or god. This tone of voice – it belonged in a church, not at a bedside of a prisoner of war. This was insane. They were all insane. “Have your wounds healed?”

Shiro nodded reluctantly. Would this insane person now take this as an invitation to inflict new ones on him?

“Then,” – the lavender-eyed monster continued, - “you’re free to go. I’ve already discussed it with Chairman Miroku. You’re dismissed. Go. If anybody touches you, they’re dead.”

The monster stood up and left the door, leaving both the door and the window unlocked, as if Shiro was really free.

Oh, he dared to hope he was, though trying to run away was sure to be a fool’s errand. Someone would kill him for trying, surely.

So, now was the moment to decide. What was better, in the end – death, or insanity?

He knew – though he knew not how, but he trusted himself – that if he ever saw ‘Krowell’ again, he’d wish to see him again, and again, and again.

That was madness, certainly. It had to be.

And so... life, or sanity. He’d have to choose.

Window seemed safer. Since ‘Krowell’ left through the door, he couldn’t be standing down there, right this second, even with his speed.

Therefore, slowly and carefully, he climbed down the wall. However, it seemed he wasn’t completely healed yet, as he lost his balance and plummeted to his---

---very comfortable mattress that smelled rather pleasantly. It was wet with snow – the night was quite snowy, after all – but it was so soft that Shiro felt tempted to sleep---

Fortunately, until morning, he had no insane dreams. Sometimes, he almost woke up – and when he did, he moved his hands and legs, making sure there were no chains. There were none.

‘Krowell’ was too insane to be an enemy king, that much was clear. If so, then... what was he?

When he woke up at the sunrise and sat up, he’s realised that someone put a comfortable blanket on him. Infuriated now, he tore it to shreds, stood up, and ran in a random direction, passing some enemy soldiers who seemed unsure what to make of him and didn’t try to stop him.

Barsburg was insane. He had to leave it – now. Before it somehow warped his mind, too.

The mattress was too much.

I hate you. And why would my father have to be in the same place as you? Now I’ll have to get back there sometimes, for the letter.

Somewhere, a silver-haired monster felt, through a certain bond, a pang of emotion, where before there was more. And breathed more deeply, as if now allowed to, for the first time in five days. There was even a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered, making sure the words could be felt over the bond, even though he knew they wouldn’t be understand. Still, they may feed whatever emotion there was, make it burn more brightly.

It hurt so much – so much when for almost a week now all he could feel Yukikaze feeling towards him was indifference – that now, he was glad for this gift. Oh, it wasn’t hartred, strangely enough. Ayanami knew hatred and what Yukikaze – no, Shiro was his name now – felt was barely a dislike.

A dislike. Not indifference. For the first time in years, he spoke to Yukikaze, and Yukikaze answered him, even if it was so lukewarm for now, neither hot nor cold.

Still, it was something. And if Yukikaze decided to leave Barsburg and never see Chief of Staff again, that would be alright, too. He’s spent four days at Yukikaze’s side when Shiro was sleeping, after all. And maybe Yukikaze was unconscious, but he was there, was truly there with his beautiful soul that Ayanami would recognise anywhere. The Chief only left Shiro’s bedside at Hyuuga’s insistence and because he could feel that the boy would wake up soon enough. And he trusted Hyuuga with Yukikaze’s – Shiro’s – life, so leaving the room like that hurt only a little.

If he was honest with himself, he hoped to see Shiro again. He wouldn’t, however, force Shiro into such a meeting.

Never again. If Shiro didn’t love him, wasn’t that for the better? He wouldn’t try again to shield him with his body, as he had done as Yukikaze. He wouldn’t die for him again. He’d make sure his beautiful Begleiter never died for him again.

Never again.

Chapter Text

***********

Petals. Shiro hated cherry blossom petals, that's why he easily ditched his birth name. His mother - the birth one - liked flowers, but for him.... Cherry blossom - he saw a few, once, when he was four years old. He was with his mother at the time, and she was looking to 'accidently' bump into his father - would she never learned - and then, she said:

"There's one place where he goes in secret sometimes. Because his damned officer leaves flowers there sometimes, and then comes next year, and you know what, little one? He is the one who makes sure that stupid man doesn't come back to the stench of dead flowers. That man - his officer - loves people only after they die. But Hyuuga, he loves people only alive. So he may still love me someday. And you. As long as he doesn't know who you are."

"Who I am, Mom?"

Genuine curiosity.

And then, that look of disgust.

"That dead man who once possessed you and spoke to me as if I was some whore of his!"

No. He didn't speak like that. If he said so, would his Mom think the dead man possessed him again?

So instead, he said: "I don't wanna play with Shuri tomorrow..."

********

Place. Cherry blossom.

Point.

"This is my grave."

"What?"

Point.

"This is my grave, Mom. I... think so, at least? I'm not sure. I think I dreamt it, on---"

Forbidden.

He's never said the word 'grave' again, not ever. The slap heard too much.

Grave.

And birthplace.

Flower.

Flowers have bad memory.

Which was just as well.

***********

When you're a flower, death doesn't heart. How strange.

***********

Shuri stepped on a flower once. Sakura had to run to a bathroom when he saw it, and vomitted. He hasn't spoken to Shuri since then.

Murderer.

Still, it was painless. Flowers feel no pain.

Flowers. Could he ask his mother? Or was the word 'flower' forbidden, too?

Which was weird, since both his name and his surname - well, those were plants.

Flowers were intimately familliars. So were cats, but not those tiny cats. Nope, those bigger ones. That growled instead of weakly meowing. That could go up to---

Where?

He wished the dead man would "possess" him again. Then he would ask all the right questions, and all the wrong ones, too, just to be fair.

************

He woke up with a start. It was the morning of his fifteenth birthdays, and he hoped the Chief of Staff hasn't seen his dream. He really, really, really hoped so. For almost two (two! Yeah! Shiro could jump for joy now) months now, he's received almost no creepy feelings from the man (good, finally some restraint, why would anybody send love letters to an enemy... who was he kidding, he was probably too weak to classify as an enemy for a monster). But now... if the monster caught this dream, this jumbled memory, it was.... like an invitation.

Like sending some insane message of my name indeed had been Yukikaze in my previous life, let's talk and catch up on stuff .

He knew, though he did not know how, that he was 'chained' (and what a long chain it was. what was he, a dog? He'd rather be a cat) to that devil not without a reason. But whatever the reason was, it certainly wouldn't exist if the man hadn't hastily killed him in Antwort. And then he had to patch him up with some strange bond, right.... how convenient.

Not that anybody had ever told him any of this. And he wouldn't tell anyone, either.

He's realised a year ago that when he got kidnapped to Barsburg he had a unique opportunity to meet his mother again. And to meet Hakuren again, and maybe even Shuri and those little Celestines. Oh, well.

He escaped, after all, it wasn't some vacation. Only afterwards did he understand that, paradoxically, if he were to return to that lavender-eyed monster... well, he'd probably be protected by this monster forever.

"Fortunately, I don't need to be coddled. I'm adult now."

He wondered how to send this through the bond. But it would only be unspecified irritation, wouldn't it?

No, he'd just write it in a letter tomorrow. Why in all verlorens not. He didn't know Ayanami's address, but maybe he could find out somehow.

Chapter Text

Chapter One

For the sake of fathers and for the sake of kings, it was all just fever dreams, remember that, till we're stronger

"Dad! Hyuuga-san! Dad!"

 The boy run up to the monster, who was currently out in the field, training. Though the boy had no idea why would his father, this monster, have to train, when his swords skills were already the greatest – weren’t they?

He wondered whether the dead man he himself used to be had skills as good as this. Judging from what Yukikaze said in Shiro’s fever dream, not really. But Yukikaze seemed modest, and... well, Shiro still wasn’t sure whether Yukikaze was real at all.

“Oh, hello, Shuri.~~ Don’t pester me when I’m training, or I might accidently cut you, you know. *”

Shiro – Sakura, actually, but he liked the nickname better – pouted. His father, even if they only met four times during Shiro’s whole life (this life, he added in his thoughts, so as not to give Kaze grumbling material for later), knew very well he wasn’t Shuri. He didn’t look anything like Shuri, anyway! Shuri’s eyes were green, and Shiro’s eyes were the same colour as Hyuuga’s. Exactly the same. So there was no way dad would get confused! Shiro and Shuri looked completely different from each other, and Hakuren, too. His dad was just shooing Shiro, that was all.

Because his dad didn’t care for him. Oh, but now he would. Now he would.

Shiro smirked. And then pouted.

“Daaad. Hyuuuuuuuga-kun! Don’t slack off and play with your stick while you’ve got paperwork to do.”

Hyuuga’s eyes widened for a fraction of second, but then he turned away dismissively.

So Sakura – this was a serious moment, so no time for nicknames, the three-year-old decided – reapeated the same in a slow and very badly accented language of Raggs .

I can’t learn a foreign language in dreams and in fever, you stupid, stupid... me... stupid past me!! Oops, now I’m mean to me. Not good. Anyway – too difficult language in dreams and sick, stupid!!

Still, Sakura managed to learn a few quotes, as he still didn’t really understood single words – any of them – but could parrot a few sentences from his dreams. He felt so stupid parroting things, but now... now his dad would take him to ‘the king’ and he’d see what the fuss was about, with that ‘king’. His expectations were low already, because ‘he’ was really putting this ‘king’ of ‘his’ on such a high pedestal... he’d have to either be a god, or an utter disappointment. It was like when maids and servants were talking Shuri and Hakuren up. And other nobles. On the other hand, Shuri said Mikage Celestine was nice and then, shockingly, Mikage Celestine... seemed to be nice!! He borrowed him a toy and all!!

So. Now, the ‘king.’ He tried not to insult ‘his king’ too much in his thoughts, because the dreams he got when he used to do so... ugh. It was enough to get scolded by mom for other things, he didn’t need to be scolded by ‘himself’ for this.

Oh. Dad Hyuuga was staring at him. Did he understand the language? Judging from the grin – nope.

“Could you repeat it?~~ I can’t just go to Aya-tan and say ‘please translate my baby boy’, now how embarrassing would that be?”

“Besides,” Hyuuga attempted to continue—

“Besides,” Sakura interrupted him with all the impatience of a toddler, “Krowell is asleep right now. He sleeps from three o’clock till dawn on days like this. Ayanami-sama does. Krowell-sama, back in Raggs, too. I know from dreams. Cause I’m not that me.”

“That you” Hyuuga asked, the grin completely wiped off from his face, “wouldn’t happen to had been a certain Begleiter I know? I don’t believe in coincidences, young man. Are you telling me I accidently sired a certain Begleiter? Now if you’re lying~~”

“If I’m lying?” Sakura asked, now curious. What if he was lying? What if a fever dream was just a lie? Would dad kill him for it? Seemed fair. Lying was bad, mom always said.

“Bad kids get punished,” Dad said, smirking.

Sakura’s heart was beating quickly in his chest and he couldn’t help suddenly laughing from excitement. Dad – Hyuuga – dad – well, whatever he should call him – was now talking to him, to Sakura, without dismissing him, was getting involved, for real – this was great! And all thanks to ‘him’! Alright, if that’s how it was, he could even put up with the fact that he’d have to have some nebulous ‘Ayanami-sama’ as his ‘king’ from now till forever, just like the past ‘himself’ from dreams and sicknesses wanted.

“Yes, dad. Dad, you know that Yukikaze-san’s body is under cherry blossoms, don’t you? And Yukikaze’s soul is under, uhm, how to say it....”

Sakura thought for a moment, and then just pointed straight at himself.

“Right here. You can ask our king, you know. He’ll know. I’m a bad kid, mom always says, so I am. But I’m no liar kid. Same colour and all. ‘s true! Ask Krowell!”

“Krowell. Did you know, Yukikaze, that I didn’t know that name of his until a year ago? Kaze-chan’s so impatient~~ Kaze-chan was never so impatient before.”

Was dad asking are you really you?

“Piss off!” He’s once heard a servant say it to another one. “I’m not Yukikaze, I’m Shiro and I’m three! Patience is for old geezers like ‘Kaze-chan’! But listen to this: Фнфтфьш. Ук шые фиук тшсре ушт ышуиутафсрук Лщутшп агук Нглшлфяу. Нглшлфяу рфе ышср шт шрт мукдшуие.”

“Verliebt... Oh, this one sounds a bit similar in my language. Love? Beloved?”

“In love, I... guess?”

“Ah, that’s right. Kaze-chan is a baby, can’t speak yet~~”

Sakura was indignant with all his ‘baby’ heart--- till his dad crouched down and ruffled his hair, that is.

“Now, wait here, son. Daddy’s going to tell our Aya-tan all about you. Now you’re the youngest Black Hawk ever, Sakura-chan! And don’t worry, I already know you’re a Warsfeil, unlike Kaze-tan. Your mother told me. Veeeery loudly, at that.*”

“Wait here.”

“I will! For you, dad, and for Kaze-san’s person! I’ll wait here forever!”

“That’s fine, five minutes will do. Oh, you know what? Wait in our office. Nobody will accidently kill you there.~”

“Black Hawks?” Sakura frowned, what if one of Black Hawks accidently killed him? They were monsters, after all. Demons. Just like Sakura was.

He grinned. He wouldn’t be alone know. Not anymore.

He’d wait five minutes. And that’s right, none of the Hawks would kill him, not ever. Because he had been a Black Hawk. Because Ayanami-sama had loved ‘him’. So, none of the Black Hawks would.

The Black Hawks’ office was boring. But there were some candies – hid dad’s, no doubt. So he ate them.

No.

No, he didn’t.

He planned to.

Somehow, he barely got away with his life.

Why?

Who was the shadow?

Who?

Who?

It was all too much.

Assassination attempt. He found the word later on, in dictionary. But why? Who? Who was the shadow? Why was the shadow pretending to be a Black Hawk? And did he know that Sakura had been Yukikaze? Why? Why? Who?

************

Shiro, seventeen years old, awoke with a start. This wasn’t good. He almost dreamt of the shadow. He was deathly scared of doing so. For all his hatred for Ayanami or for Hyuuga... dad... this was still a nice feelings, as far as disagreeable feelings go.

Now, the shadow. If he saw that ten lives from now, it would be too early.

“Shiro-chan?”

Oh. His new father – well, the man who let him tag along a year ago, but Sakura was beginning to like him and think of him as a father – was standing at Shiro’s bedside and he didn’t even notice.

“Shiro, did you have a nightmare again? You’re shaking .”

“Cut it out, Lance-sama, please. ‘m not shaking. Just... a fever, is all.”

Just a fever.

A fever was, for years now, what he tried to excuse any memory of the shadow as.

Shiro sometimes managed to lie to himself that fever was all it was. Someday, someday, someday he wanted to lie about it so well that he – Shiro, Sakura, and even the Kaze idiot deep down – would believe it. Yukikaze was trying to help with that.

Because the shadow promised to kill dad the day anybody would learn that the shadow was a make-believe Black Hawk.

And Sakura hated dad too much, and Kaze liked dad too much, for that to be allowed.

“Are you certain? Maybe I could ask a friend for some medicine.”

“Which friend, Lance-sama?” Shiro asked. Lance-san – father – seemed to have some weird friends. One of them reminded him of ‘his king’, even.

“Labrador.”

Yes, that one. Yukikaze seemed to like him. Sakura? Sakura loved Labrador, why would he not? He sometimes regretted that Lance was his new father, in a way, and not Labrador. Labrador-sama didn’t even to mind that Sakura was a Warsfeil, after all.

Yes, of those weird friends of Lance-sama, Labrador was the best. Sakura loved his flowers. Some of them could have been people, once upon a time, he felt certain when meeting them.

***********

Few years ago, the morning after Antwortian Shiro ‘escaped’ Barsburg

It just didn’t add up.

Let’s say that the flower was his Begleiter’s direct reincarnation. No doubt about it. Then – maybe a panther, but who had drowned it? And besides, the panther might have not been Yukikaze at all.

Ayanami was exhausted that day. He came to Yukikaze’s day instead of sleeping. Seeing the panther with Yukikaze’s soul colour – what if that was only a dream?

If it wasn’t, why was his memory of it so vague? It couldn’t be a dream. He had no dreams until Dahlia changed that, and so, he knew how to differentiate dreams from reality – unlike said empress, for example.

Let’s say the panther was real. And then murdered – and he still hasn’t found the culprit.

It all still didn’t add up, unless Yukikaze waited in Heaven for some time before becoming Hyuuga’s son.

Another thing – everything Hyuuga him. And after that battle in Antwort, after seeing Shiro’s military papers and documentation, Hyuuga’s recognised Shiro at last. And told Ayanami everything.

Ayanami remembered now.

 “Aya-tan, guess what?”

He didn’t open his eyes. Whatever it was, apparently couldn’t wait, but he wouldn’t indulge Hyuuga by asking. Still, it had to be important. Hyuuga valued his sleep more than he himself did and he still woke him up for some urgent news.

“Aya-tan has a very special guest! He’s waiting in the office. I told Katsuragi to go there and make sure nothing happens to our baby.~~ So no worries, Aya-tan, this won’t be like with the flower.’

For a fraction of a second, Ayanami stilled. He reminded himself to breathe. He reminded himself that Hyuuga didn’t know what Yukikaze looked like – his soul, that is, bodies were still changeable – and so, this could be a false lead.

“Aaaya-tan, my son’s a real deal, don’t fret!~~ But it’s fine if you don’t hope. I’ll just show you. Be back in a minute, Aya-tan!”

Hyuuga went out. To fetch... his son? How strange. Then again, being reborn close to Hyuuga... would make this meeting possible, wouldn’t it?

Yukikaze... did Yukikaze really want to meet him again? Was this his answer, finally, after all these years?

He dozed off. He shouldn’t have, but it was just this strange feeling that some called ‘relief’ and it was hard to stay awake as he would if he was anxious. He woke up in the morning. Hyuuga showed him a kid – who wasn’t in the least similar to Hyuuga, appearancewise at least – but it wasn’t Yukikaze. Just some brat from a noble family. It was a false lead, after all.

“Liar.”

Hyuuga didn’t appear in any way worried, which wasn’t surprising. After all, even with a blade so close to his throat, he hasn’t drawn any of his subordinate blood yet.

“Yep~~. Didn’t want to hurt Aya-tan even more than I had to. Aya-tan can kill me for this, if that was a mistake.”

“Who was the child?”

“Ah, that one. He looks just like Shiro-chan, doesn’t he? Twins and all.”

“Liar. They may be twins, but Shuuri Oak doesn’t look like Sakura, and he doesn’t look like you. That day – why didn’t you bring Sakura to me?” Now he drew a few droplets of blood from Hyuuga’s neck.

“I’m a liar, Aya-tan, but I think there must be more liars in Black Hawks. With intentions worse than mine.* Somebody knocked Katsuragi out, you know? That day, Katsuragi was Kaze-chan’s babysitter. But somebody knocked him out and kidnapped our toddler, see, Aya-tan~. We think it must have been one of ‘us’. We have a traitor in Black Hawks, Aya-tan.”

Chief of Staff withdrew his sword, all the rage apparently vanishing from his face. Now he listened, with seeming calm. “Go on, Hyuuga. You’re not the traitor, and neither is Kuroyuri, as he wasn’t in the Black Hawks back then. Who is the traitor and when were you planning on sharing this little detail?”

“Aya-tan, this whole time, Katsuragi was trying to fabricate some evidence that it was me, I’m certain.”

Ayanami smirked lightly. “Because you were trying to do the same when it came to him?”

Hyuuga grinned and shook his head. “That wouldn’t help neither Aya-tan nor any toddlers, Oaks or not. I was trying to find real evidence.”

“And you finally have it now. After all those years. I suppose that’s why your paperwork has gotten even worse.”

Hyuuga shook his head. “Is Aya-tan accusing me of not being lazy now? What will Kona-chan say?”

“I’ll keep it a secret from him.”

“Thanks, Aya-tan~~”

“Hyuuga” Ayanami began, visibly annoyed.

“Yes?”

“Clean my sword.”

Hyuuga chuckled. “Aww, I can’t even leave some blood on there as a souvenir? Aya-tan’s so stingy.”

“No, you can’t. Because it’s yours. And I already have a 'souvenir' from you. I can take more, if you don't stop complaining.”

"But Aya-tan, now I'll never stop complaining until Aya-tan takes more than half of my soul.~"

The chief of staff barely stopped a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

Katsuragi. He had his own reasons to suspect a man, but up until now, he wasn't certain.

This, however... if the man wasn't one of his Hawks, he'd now kill him on suspicion alone. For almost murdering his one and only Begleiter.

Chapter Text

Short Interlude

Neither Dragon nor Ghost, only Wide Awake, Wider than Humans Should Be, and I Blame Him

Humans are neither dragons nor angels, they’re not meant to remember the past while they’re live. And that was the root of his relationship to himself. Sometimes he hated himself, sometimes he respected himself – no, not him himself, him himself, the dead guy, as for himself himself...

“I like myself well enough in this life, Kuroyuri. Did you know that? That’s why I don’t even care you’re only spying on me – him – I don’t even know – for this ‘king’ of the two of you.”

“That’s why Shirokaze’s fun! And because you like my cooking!”

Shiro didn’t have the heart to tell his new best friend that the cooking tasted slightly better than bilge rats in the sewers, and so, he could pretend it was delicious.

“I know something that your ‘Aya-tan’ doesn’t know. I know why I remember my past life as the dead guy—“

“Yukikaze,” Kuroyuri corrected him, pouting.

Ah, that’s right. Dad told Kuroyuri about Yukikaze, and though Shiro’s never heard it, he could easily imagine the way dad framed it. Shiro glanced at Haruse, who was sitting just outside their tent.

“Yukikaze,” he asserted, nodding and trying his best grin out. “I’ll tell you a secret – no, not to you. To ‘Ayanami’, because I know he’s listening right now”.

“Does it mean I can’t listen?” Kuroyuri asked, sounding slightly offended. “If so, I can change with Ayanami-sam. You do know that Ayanami-sama wouldn’t mind talking to you, and only because you made him pro—“

Shiro glared at his best friend – for lack of better ones. And Kuroyuri was interesting, anyway.

“If he comes out, I won’t say a word”.

Kuroyuri nodded, looking thoughtful.

And that was all it took to make Shiro hesitate. Maybe he could just grab his friend by the chin and look into his eyes to see whose eyes they were, but if that was still Kuroyuri upfront, then maybe Kuroyuri’s Begleiter wouldn’t like it. And if it was the Chief of Staff upfront---

The memories of dead guy wouldn’t like it. Or maybe they would, he never tried to access all the intimate memories, and besides, maybe the Chief would be just finally fed up with Shiro for being a brat and strangle him or something.

“Shirokaze?”

Oh, definitely Kuroyuri upfront. Only Kuroyuri called him that stupid joke nickname that dad made up seriously and with concern. Stupid monstrous Chief of Staff wouldn’t lower himself to calling him such joke nicknames with such emotion in his voice. Of that, Shiro... of that, Sakura felt fairly sure.

He beamed, grinning widely. He learned how to do it in distress – from his mother. No, not the birth one. Oaks weren’t very good at such art, as far as Shiro remembered.

“Alright, because I’ve always wanted to say that. Yukikaze didn’t know, and still wouldn’t believe me I’m sure, but I do know. Chief of Staff – he’s never loved Yukikaze. He just thought he did. And that was because, back then, when he was unconscious after Raphael, Yukikaze tried to stop Raphael – Dahlia, I mean. And, see, Yukikaze didn’t have any seals on him, because he’s just normal human.”

Unlike Shiro. Sakura. A monster, a Warsfeil. That’s why he was envious of Yukikaze – more envious than he could stand. Still, that was neither here nor there, right now he was just objectively stating facts. With full objectivity. Yukikaze couldn’t see, because he was too close, but Sakura, far enough, certainly could, with Raphael-granted clarity. Wasn’t that right.

“He’s never loved Yukikaze. Look here,” Shiro continued. He took a glass he’s just been drinking from, and poured out half the water that remained. As for the purposes of metaphor, it didn’t matter whether it was full or empty.

“As I’ve said, look here. Let’s say this glass is ‘love’. Every living being has it for someone. But it’s often a bit dirty and always pretty to look at, see? But, look. Let’s imagine there was some ring around, you’d make a movement like this. But if there wasn’t anything like that around? In doing so, you would just wipe the dirt off. And have the glass crystal clear. And you may think ‘what a pretty glass!’ Correction: you’re now deluded. All the other glasses are like that, if only they accidently put themselves in a way of a broom. So, ask yourself: what did ‘Aya-tan’ fall in love with? Because I know what. Now, goodnight!”

And, suddenly deeply scared, as there suddenly something dinstinctly unKuroyurish in Kuroyuri’s eyes, he flopped down, and pretended to sleep. After all, it was Shiro’s own tent, and Kuroyuri and Haruse and monster were guests, so if somebody tried to interrupt his sleep, that would be just rude, wouldn’t it? And he wouldn’t talk to them again in this lifetime.

His heart was beating fast, and he had trouble breathing, all from fear that this time, he honestly crossed the line. And he could feel notKuroyuri’s eyes on himself, and he didn’t dare open his own to check what their expression was. He managed to fall asleep six hours later, and because of the stress, he didn’t manage to dream of his own happy memories, or even of Yukikaze’s, damn, he’d even take dreaming of stupid Yukikaze’s ‘king’. But, no he had to mess up and scare himself almost to death, which naturally meant that even ‘king’s’ presence didn’t help – didn’t protect him from dreaming of the Shadow.

*********

But before dreams of the worst kind, while he was drifting asleep, Shiro - no, Sakura, because almost asleep he'd answer to the name his mom gave him - though he heard something worth hearing.

No, it wasn't addressed to him, was it? He was too tired for this. And he didn't hear the whole sentence, even, because he was too stressed.

"--mistaken."

"--beautiful long before that day of coronation."

Right, he wasn't the adressee. Really, there was a reason he wouldn't know the adressee if he was a normal human, and now, he idly thought of filing some kind of complaint to the Empress.

Oh, right. She was dead, too, now wasn't she? Scheisse.