Chapter Text
Ienzo did indeed prove to be a wealth of information, even if most of it was useless. The boy was only too happy to tattle on everyone he had seen in his wanderings. He was just as happy to agree to keep Even informed every day thereafter, so long as Even promised not to go downstairs by himself until the doctor said that he could. When had the child become a little mother hen?
Ienzo took Even’s lunch tray back down to the kitchens and scampered off to attend his belated studies. Even wished whoever had that duty the best of luck. Ienzo interested was a delight. Ienzo bored… not so much.
There was a small stack of non-fiction historical novels on the floor just underneath his bed. Even picked up the first one – an account of the first agricultural reform under Timothy The Benevolent – and flipped through it halfheartedly as the sunshine coming through his window slowly tilted the shadows across his room.
His mind was wandering, trying to focus on the book as a distraction, then coming back to the conversation with Xehanort awaiting later in the night, to his fellow apprentices and their master, to the town below his window. There was so much to do.
Xehanort was where it started. What was he going to say? He needed a plan. He needed to make Xehanort, the most selfish and destructive person he had ever had the misfortune of meeting, become a respectable member of society. Well, no, that might have been asking too much. He needed to make Xehanort love Radiant Garden and Even, as well as their soon-to-be-mutual circle of acquaintances. He needed to give Xehanort’s oncoming storm of an intellect some sort of benign, long-term problem to solve. He needed to make sure all mentions of Keyblades and Kingdom Hearts never reached Xehanort’s ears. Which immediately made Braig a problem.
Was he better off trying to divert Braig before Xehanort? Make the sometimes brilliant imbecile take an extended sabbatical as a sharpshooting instructor in one of the far off militia academies? It couldn’t be too hard to convince Master Ansem to send him away for a while, surely.
Well, maybe it could. Braig himself probably wouldn’t be terribly happy with the notion of a position that required him to actually work. Master Ansem almost certainly wouldn’t send one of his apprentices to a post they didn’t want.
Bah, what was he worrying about so much for? Better to focus on Xehanort for now. Xehanort was the greater threat and Braig may well not turn out to be a threat at all, so long as he could satisfy his desire for a Keyblade. A satisfied Braig was a lazy, unfocused Braig. That was the Braig Even remembered the most. He could manage that Braig, He just had to make sure that Braig was the Braig that stuck around.
Xehanort. Well, he would have to keep a close watch on Xehanort. How lucky that they were both going to be confined to this level of the castle for the next few days. He just needed to start with a few common interests and lead things on from there. Like, eh….
...Blast it, what had he done these days? His lab work, which had no set criteria save that he record everything and it be of some possible use to the world at large, the occasional class, which were always mercifully short and contained only a few students, and… he had… he remembered training sessions with the others. He remembered reading books in the very bed he sat in now.
...Was that it?
That was not a lot.
...Well, he would make do. Xehanort was a man with an all devouring intellect, so there was bound to be something in Even’s catalog of research to appeal to him.
…
…
…
..Oh stars above, he was doomed. They all were.
Then again, perhaps fate intended for him to not fall flat at the starting line. Aeleus arrived shortly before sunset to inform him that he was not going to be allowed to speak to their new arrival.
What followed was a grown man throwing a tantrum.
Even shouted, accused, even whined, but Aeleus stood firm. He would not even carry Even’s wishes for Master Ansem to reconsider. Xehanort was recovering just as much as Even was and Even was not known for his grace or tact with speaking with other people. Well, no, that was not what Aeleus said, but Even could infer it. Master Ansem was going to handle their fragile guest and Even was going to entertain Ienzo while it happened.
He was reduced to a babysitter.
Lovely.
The consolation prize of being allowed to speak with Xehanort at breakfast tomorrow was worth nothing. It would be a chore to assess a man’s mental condition in a crowded area, to say nothing of having a private conversation. Even was going to have to wait even longer. Rationally, that might have been for the best, but he was not going to admit to anyone, himself included.
Ienzo was dropped off with a board game and strict instructions to remain with Even for the remainder of the night. Even was given instructions to remain in his room and with Ienzo. There were a pair of extra guards posted outside in the hallway in case things went badly, so sneaking out of his room was not an option.
So, while Master Ansem, Dilan, Aeleus and Braig gently pried apart the mystery of Xehanort as much a good manners and medical ethics allowed, Even bought park place and collected two-hundred dollars.
“Stop that,” Even muttered as he noticed property deeds in Ienzo’s pile that had not been there the previous turn.
The little boy scowled and pulled his left hand out from his sleeve, the little black book clasped tightly in his fingers. The extra deeds wavered and then vanished into nothing.
“I can count, you know,” Even said acidly.
“It works on Braig,” Ienzo responded bitterly. No, it didn’t, Braig let Ienzo win, but Even didn’t say so.
There was only the sound of dice and paper for a few minutes, then Ienzo spoke again.
“Why did everyone want you to stay away from the new person?”
Why indeed? “Apparently, conversations with me are stressful.”
“That’s true,” Ienzo said blithely, cutting Even straight to the core with a child’s innocent ease.
What?!
...Well, all right, maybe that was occasionally true.
“I can be nice,” Even said. Said, not growled.
“Yeeees,” Ienzo drawled hesitantly. “You can. But I can tell when you’re faking it. Most people can, I think. You don’t like having to pretend and that’s what being nice is sometimes.”
Ienzo was shockingly astute for someone whose age was still in the single digits. Even had seen it over and over again, but it still came as a surprise. That did not mean he liked it. Maybe he did not like forcing himself to be nice either, but he could do it!
And potentially the whole universe was riding on him not messing things up, so maybe skipping out on the first available opportunity to make a terrible impression on Xehanort was a blessing in disguise.
Well.
Fine.
Suddenly very tired and ashamed of himself, Even slapped down a one hundred dollar bill onto the board and paid his fee. So what if tonight was spent playing a game to entertain a bored child? He had time. Hadn’t he been thinking that not so long ago? He had time.
They managed another two games before Dilan came to collect Ienzo and bid Even goodnight. All he said was that the talk went well and that Xehanort was no longer confined to his room. With that terribly useful summation delivered, he left and Even went to sleep.
Morning dawned with no fanfare for all that it was an important day. Even was leaving his room to have breakfast in the dining hall. Master Ansem insisted that he and all of his students eat in the public space at least once a week to see and be seen by the rest of the castle. Even hated… he had hated it, but maybe it was worth doing this time around. It would give him a chance to jog his memory of all the others who called this place home. He would have to interact with them eventually and it was always better to know their name, rather than get their attention with ‘hey you!’
Even better, it gave him an excuse to clean himself. No one wanted to eat next to a human shaped collection of grease. He kept the water cool and had to sit down in the tub at one point, but Even managed to scrub his body and hair to their usual level of sanitation before Braig arrived at his door to escort him.
The sharpshooter clearly knew what Even had done and gave him a disapproving frown, but said nothing. Nor did he have anything to say about Even having dressed himself, which was just as well. He had pulled his suit on while sitting down on his bed and it had been a slow, ponderous affair. He had not even managed to iron out his clothes before wearing them, which was not at all up to his usual tastes. Hopefully no one would say anything.
They took the elevator down and Even was able to enjoy the morning view of his home. He would have enjoyed it more had Braig not begun their descent with a request to braid Princess Eveline’s hair for her debut from the sickroom. It was a childish dig and Even ignored it with adult restraint.
He was able to walk to the dining hall under his own power and took the corners slowly, but easily. Braig took the lead when they arrived, guiding him to the head table where Master Ansem, the other apprentices and some of the higher ranking officials were gathered. Ansem the Wise never rested, not that Even had ever seen, and he mixed eating his bacon with correcting Ienzo’s home with laying out guidelines for the renovations in the western gardens with rearranging the meeting with the town mayor to a later time.
Even had always wanted Master Ansem’s multitasking abilities more than (almost) anything else.
Xehanort was the new addition and he stuck out like a sore thumb. His orange eyes looked at everything around him with a kind of baffled wonder and he had not touched his food at all. The only two chairs left empty at the table were between Xehanort and Ienzo. Even had a notion as to what Braig had planned and sped up, passing his colleague as quickly as he could without looking unseemly and took the chair closer to Xehanort.
The silver haired menace looked briefly surprised, then gave a small smile.
“Hello,” he said and there it was again, that small shock of hearing Xehanort say something so ordinary. “I gather your name is Even? It’s good to finally meet you properly.”
Braig passed by and gave Even a glare, but said nothing until he had taken his seat between Even and Ienzo. Then he began needling the boy about his lackluster history report. Even ignored him and tried to marshal a reply.
“You are an insane, power hungry, selfish prick and I will stop you if it kills me.” No, that would not do.
“I am Even and you are my new best friend. Listen only to me and obey my every order.” No, that was bad as well.
“Braig will stab you in the back for a new toy, so don’t trust him for an instant with anything more vital than making a cup of instant noodles.” True, but also likely to go over poorly.
In the end, he went with a classic. “Good morning,” Even said to the future destroyer of the universe and began buttering himself a piece of toast.
There, connection established. Truly, he was a master of conversation.
“Is there anything you can recommend?” Xehanort asked him. He gestured over his plate, piled high with food. “I just grabbed a bit of everything.”
Mouth full of toast, Even considered briefly and then pointed out the blueberry pancake that was partially buried beneath a pile of hashbrowns and half a grapefuit.
“Thank you,” Xehanort said and reached for the syrup.
Considering the disasters that had been dancing through Even’s imagination, it was a relatively decent way to begin their relationship.