The sound of retching echoed through the room, a haunting cadence that seemed to seep from the bathroom like a mournful sigh. Within the confines of the small space, a lone figure convulsed, his green hair a stark contrast to the ashen pallor of his skin. Koki's red eyes were screwed shut, his face contorted in a grimace of pain and anguish as he vomited, the sound of his stomach contents hitting the water in the toilet with a loud, wet 'gag' and a splashing echo that seemed to reverberate through his very being.
As he retched, Koki's mind was flooded with memories of his life back on Earth. The recollections came in fragmented flashes, like snapshots of a reality he desperately tried to escape. Ryujin, his adoptive guardian, loomed large in these memories – a man whose cruelty had left scars that went far beyond the physical. Koki's thoughts were consumed by visions of Ryujin's face, twisted in rage as he inflicted pain and humiliation upon him. The memories were a constant, gnawing presence in Koki's mind, eating away at his sanity like acid.
Even now, alone in the bathroom, Koki felt the weight of those scars. He crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers tracing the hidden marks on his back – the legacy of hot metal and whip lashes that had crisscrossed his skin like a gruesome topography. Ryujin's punishments had been arbitrary, meted out for the slightest perceived transgressions. Koki's mind recoiled from the memories, but they lingered, a festering wound that refused to heal.
In the silence that followed each retch, Koki's ears rang with the echoes of his past. The bathroom seemed to shrink, the walls closing in on him like a vise. For a moment, he was back in Ryujin's house, trapped in a living nightmare from which there was no escape. The sound of his own vomiting was the only thing that anchored him to the present, a harsh reminder that he was still alive, still fighting to survive.
Koki's breath was a heavy, labored rasp, his chest rising and falling with a struggle. Cold dread seeped into his bones, making his hands tremble uncontrollably. His breath crackled in his throat, each inhalation a harsh, ragged sound that seemed to scrape against his vocal cords. Fear had etched its mark on his face, twisting his features into a grimace of desperation.
"Damn bastard, he's not here yet…" Koki muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His fears threatened to consume him, to drag him under a wave of anxiety and panic. But he refused to let them win. With a surge of determination, he turned to the bath filled with water and plunged his head beneath the surface. He screamed, the sound muffled by the water, which rushed into his ears like a deafening roar. The noise was akin to a dull, underwater boom, a muffled wail that seemed to shake his entire body.
As he raised his head, coughing dryly, the sound was like a harsh 'khak' – a raw, scraping noise that seemed to tear at his throat. He clutched at his neck, trying to calm himself down, his eyes wild with desperation. "You can do this, you always have," he told himself, his voice laced with anger and pleading. "Smile, keep smiling. I'm begging you, for God's sake." The words were a fervent mantra, a desperate attempt to shore up his crumbling composure.
…
The knock on the door was a lifeline, a timely interruption that pulled Koki back from the brink of collapse. He took a deep breath, his ragged emotions still simmering just below the surface, and called out in a voice that was more demand than question, "Who is it?" The words were laced with a mix of irritation and wariness, a warning to whoever was on the other side of the door to tread carefully.
The response was immediate, a high-pitched voice tinged with concern. "Master, it's me, Arthur. Open up, I beg of you." Koki's gaze flickered towards the door, his eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from his earlier breakdown. He pushed himself up from the floor, his movements stiff and awkward, and made his way towards the door. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his upper half was soaked from his earlier attempt to calm himself down.
As he opened the door, a forced smile stretched across his face, though it felt more like a grimace. "What brings you to my doorstep at this hour, Arthur?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil that still churned inside him. Arthur, his butler, adjusted his mask, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Koki's disheveled appearance.
"I couldn't help but notice you seemed...distressed," Arthur said, his voice low and measured. "Is everything all right, Master?" Koki shook his head, a curt gesture that was meant to dismiss the topic. "You've seen for yourself that I'm fine. Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"
Arthur's eyes closed for a moment, and he nodded slowly, his expression a mask of respect. Koki's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned towards the door. "Shall we proceed with our plans, Arthur? We don't want to be late." Arthur nodded, his eyes scanning the room one last time before he fell into step beside Koki.
"No problem, Sire," he said, his voice a gentle echo of Koki's earlier command. Together, they moved out of the room, leaving the echoes of Koki's breakdown behind them.
…
As they walked out of the room and headed towards the cafeteria, Koki's mind began to wander, consumed by the weight of his own doubts. It had been a long three months, and he'd been pushing himself to the limit, determined to become stronger, at least enough to protect himself. As he'd learned from the Thief's sanctum (The Islevale Garden of the Their Scenario) , their role was to support, mostly in more combat-based scenarios. Their stealth and abilities would aid those Scenarios well, but that didn't mean they'd be incapable of handling themselves.
The training had been grueling, but Koki's thoughts were more focused on his social struggles. He'd tried to make connections with the others, to form bonds and friendships, but it seemed like he was always stuck on the periphery, watching from the outside in. His attempts at conversation had been stilted and awkward, and he'd ended up feeling like a fool more often than not.
A familiar sense of self-doubt crept in, whispering dark truths in his ear. You're a coward, it said. You're not good enough. You'll never be good enough. Koki's eyes dropped, his gaze fixing on the floor as he struggled to silence the voice. He knew it wasn't true, not entirely, but the fear and uncertainty lingered, gnawing at his confidence like a slow-moving acid.
He needed to get better, to find a way to overcome his doubts and fears. As he walked alongside Arthur, Koki's thoughts continued to swirl, a mix of frustration and determination. He would push through this, he would find a way to connect with others, and he would become the person he needed to be.
As Koki sat at the cafeteria table, his mind drifted away, lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Tomorrow, they were heading out to the city, a routine excursion that seemed to be a standard part of every scenario. His heart skipped a beat at the prospect of possibly seeing Ryo again. The question that had been plaguing him for days resurfaced, refusing to be silenced: did Ryo truly not remember him?
The sounds of the cafeteria faded into the background as Koki's thoughts consumed him. It wasn't until Arthur's gentle voice pierced the fog that he jolted back to reality. "Master, are you sure you're okay? You've been ignoring me for quite some time." The concern etched on Arthur's face even through his mask was a testament to his loyalty and dedication.
Koki's cheeks flushed as he forced a small, nervous smile. "Oh, sorry Arthur, I... got a little lost in thought. Nothing serious." His eyes darted around the cafeteria, avoiding Arthur's piercing gaze. He couldn't shake the feeling that Arthur saw right through his facade.
Arthur's expression remained skeptical, but he chose not to press the issue. Instead, he repeated his previous question, his voice measured and calm. "What would you like to eat, Master? The usual?" Koki's gaze drifted to the food options, his stomach growling in response. He hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, that sounds good, Arthur. Thank you."
As Arthur nodded and turned to place their order, Koki's thoughts began to wander once more. He couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring, and whether he'd finally get the answers he was searching for.
•X• •X• •X•
-the present-
Ryo's eyes were glued to the pages of his book, the words blurring together as he devoured every morsel of information. He knew that knowledge was power, and in the uncertain world they inhabited, being informed was crucial. As he walked, his steps were slow and deliberate, his mind still focused on the text. The vibrant colors of the beauty flowers caught his eye, but he barely registered them as he made his way to a nearby bench.
Collapsing onto the wooden slats, Ryo let out a soft sigh, his fingers flipping through the pages with a practiced ease. The words danced across the page, a jumble of letters and symbols that held secrets and answers. Just as he was getting lost in the text, a gentle nudge interrupted his focus.
Mei slid onto the bench beside him, her eyes fixed on her own book as she gestured for him to make room. "Scooch, I'm sitting too," she said, her voice as devoid of emotion as ever. Ryo shifted to the left, his eyes never leaving his book.
As Mei settled in, her gaze flicked up from her pages, her eyes locking onto Ryo's profile. "So, Ryobai, what are your plans moving forward, anything you've had in mind, or is it as I guessed, nothing?" she asked, her tone neutral, but with a hint of curiosity.
Ryo's eyes snapped up, a spark of annoyance igniting within him. "And what did I do to deserve that insult, don't twist my given name please, and have some respect for it," he shot back, his voice laced with irritation. "I doubt you'd be able to come up with a plan if your life depended on it, Mei the Meek."
Mei's expression remained impassive, but a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure your lack of planning is a hallmark of your exceptional leadership skills, Ryobai," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm surprised you didn't get lost on the way here. As for me, I plan to observe and wait. It's served me well so far."
The verbal sparring had begun, each insult and jab fueling the fire of their competitive banter. Ryo snorted, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Observe and wait? That's your grand plan? You're just going to sit back and let life happen to you? I'm more of a 'go with the flow' kind of person, but at least I'm not paralyzed by indecision like you."
Mei's gaze never wavered, her voice taking on a slightly sharper edge. "At least my approach doesn't involve recklessly stumbling into situations without a thought. You're just waiting for something to drop in your lap, aren't you, Ryobai?"
The insults flew back and forth, each one landing with precision and wit. Despite the tension between them, it was clear that they were both driven by a desire to succeed, even if they disagreed on the best way to do so.
"I'm not waiting for something to drop in my lap," Ryo said, his voice rising in defense. "I'm adapting to the situation. You're just too rigid to understand that."
Mei's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing. "I'm not rigid, Ryobai. I'm just not foolish enough to think that I can control everything.
The debate raged on, each of them refusing to back down. As the words flew back and forth, it became clear that their differing approaches were rooted in fundamentally different worldviews. Ryo's emphasis on adaptability reflected his pragmatic approach, while Mei's focus on observation and waiting revealed her more cautious nature.
"Well, it seems we don't have a plan going forward. Why don't we discuss it like I said earlier? Meet me at the room at the beginning of the boundary," she added, her voice a monotone that belied the weight of her words.
Ryo's eyes narrowed slightly as he processed her proposal. The room at the beginning of the boundary - he had no idea which one she was referring to. The labyrinthine corridors and identical-looking rooms of the facility were a maze he was still trying to navigate. He made a mental note to ask her for clarification, but for now, he let it slide. He'd cross that bridge once he got there, as he always did.
With that, Mei stood up, her movements economical and precise. She tucked her book into her pocket and stood up straight, her eyes never meeting Ryo's. "I'll see you there," she said, before turning and walking away, leaving Ryo to wonder what exactly he had just gotten himself into.