Chapter Text
"Jeraldy? Jeraldy, come on, we're going to be late!" The same, cheery boy with yellow eyes dragged him on throughout unfamiliar hallways, others moving aside to make way for the duo speeding by.
The boy's mind whirled as they ran by windows with tinted glass panes, courtyards with lush vegetation, and humble classrooms with the tittering buzz of students inside. It was all so dizzyingly strange, yet so familiar. What was he doing here again...?
A sharp left turn swung him back into his reality, and within a blink Jeraldy had found himself in a dimly lit classroom, stumbling a little by the doorway as his companioned released his hand to find his seat.
There were a handful of other children in the room, a few looking up from their papers and conversations to wave or holler a welcome to him and his sharp-eyed friend. A grin spread across his face without him realizing it, as he hurried to find an empty seat.
"Hey! Jeraldy!" Oh. His friend was right next to him, leaning over and hardly bothering to get out his papers. "We're going to the lake today, right? I've asked you like, a gazillion times already. You promised you'd go today! Remember, you still owe me!" He warned with a tease, staring up at him, not even bothering to hide his eagerness and slight worry in his eyes. Jeraldy felt a wave of affection for him. So straight-to-the-point, but so nervous whenever he asked him anything.
"I'm going, I'm going!" Jeraldy laughed, pushing his friend's head back to his own desk. The answer felt natural, almost predetermined. As if it wasn't really him speaking.
How strange, how strange...
As if he wouldn't say yes. After all, they had nagged him for so long about going someplace nice to hang out. It would be a disservice to his friend if he made any more excuses.
Such commotion soon died down as the teacher stood up from their desk, motioning for silence. Jeraldy especially had snapped back to attention, that same strange desire to learn grabbing him by the eyeballs and never letting go.
How strange, how strange... He never remembered this teacher before.
"Alright, class, settle down..."
Ahh, and that voice was oddly familiar.
How strange, how...
Strange.
Jeraldy lifted his head from the small tree he had been leaning on. Ah. He had dozed off again. In his defense however, there was little he could do, simply standing and waiting here in hopes that the stranger would return soon.
It was irritating not to have a label for the face that had saved him. Surely they would at least give him... a title or an affiliation, if he was so partial to names of all things. Jeraldy felt a little bad about being frustrated in slightest with somebody who had done so much for him - but certainly even the slightest bit of proper etiquette or introductions wouldn't hurt.
With all the free time to think, Jeraldy slowly realized just how little the stranger - Purple, as he nicknamed him in his head - had left him with.
No background from him at all, and substantially less for Jeraldy. He had no idea what had left Purple to be so standoffish to him. Why did he hate him? Why did he flinch every time Jeraldy spoke? And for the love of the beyond, what happened?
Jeraldy Mazaingo. Engineer. CEO. Former CEO. With a blown up facility and with presumably nobody happy to see him alive. Woke up from a freak accident that, from the looks of it, involved a 1000 ton andriod-machine. Saved by somebody who knew all of this, and somebody he hated. Or used to hate.
Terrific job clearing everything up, Purple-eyed man. Really appreciated it.
Something hummed protestingly in the back of his head. A bit of him wondered why Purple hadn't been more hostile. Of course, distrust among strangers was natural, but a part of him was really quite surprised when he had decided to help him.
Of course, Jeraldy still had a few traces of background protocols revolving around social interactions. Some leftover bits of etiquette and bedside manners hammered into his brain until it became more instinct than knowledge.
They told Jeraldy the best course of action to earn the trust of his friend -an extremely hopeful label- was to follow orders. Through obedience, trust would be gained.
However, they did not tell him how to deal with being left stranded alone for 16 hours.
Now that he wasn't dancing between the living world and the dead, bits of what he could only recall as personality sparked in him. He only called it 'personality' as the phrase 'extremely frustrated and upset with being left behind' felt a bit too rudimentary.
There was only a certain amount of times he could keep fiddling around with his broken scouter and stare at the exact same view, after all.
It was by then that Jeraldy realized that Purple had never exactly given him a solid return time.
He could be gone for days and Jeraldy would still be naively starving to death, stuck on the childish trust he'd return. It was probable that Purple had simply realized what a stupid idea it was to nurse somebody he hated, packed his bags, and left him alone to die.
Maybe it was just his stomach thinking, but at this point Jeraldy's patience was wearing thin. Surely it wouldn't be a crime to look around a bit. There could be a village not ten meters into the woods and he would never know unless he left.
Jeraldy knew what to do, but still had to pause and argue with the part of him that had him rooted to the spot. After all, it had been quite a while - if he left to go exploring and Purple returned, he would likely think he had abandoned him and he would almost definitely be displeased. He would be directly disobeying their orders to stay put, and whatever reputation he had with him would be significantly diminished. He had a single job. He had to remain here, or be labelled as untrustworthy.
Jeraldy! Can’t you hear what you’re saying? You don’t listen to anyone. Nobody. Double Trouble Duo, right?
Who was that. Jeraldy whirled around, half expecting to see somebody behind him. And yet, nothing was there - nothing but him and his sorrow.
Hm. Alright then, mysterious-voice-in-my-head. Two can play at this game.
Brushing himself off, while also sending a glare at nothing in particular, Jeraldy haphazardly begun a small sneak out of the camp. Not quite a sneak- there was nobody there to begin with- but he enjoyed the thought of doing something rebellious to spite his sluggish, compliant brain.
The underbrush rustled as he stumbled away from the tents and the trust, some birds off in the distance cawing at nothing. It was surprisingly gorgeous here in the bright summer, with sunlight filtering through the branches and casting their pretty painted shadows all over him. If he hadn’t emerged from a trainwreck, Jeraldy might’ve genuinely enjoyed the woodland wander.
Jeraldy moved a little faster in the woods, hopping over large roots and making sharp corners. He didn’t mean to lose sight of where the camp had been, but with how restless he was it became a very real possibility.
”Just for a bit,” he murmured under his breath to nobody in particular. “I won’t be for long.”
A slight chill blew through the air. Was that a distant crashing in the bracken?
It was too quiet to tell. Oh well. It might’ve been Purple- even better. Jeraldy could seriously use a stern word or two with him about leaving some half-healed stranger out in the woods alone.
It wasn’t all that bad during the day, Jeraldy thought, taking his mind off of some mysterious noises in the woods. Just trees hanging low in canopies over every creek, every corner. The blue skies are consistent,white clouds that looked like they could be touched from a distance.
There’s another crash through twigs and branches, and it’s closer this time. Jeraldy paused in his step to look in its direction, a small chill riding down his spine. Since when did it get so cold?
He was just nervous, surely. Jeraldy took a hesitant step forward, before continuing on his walk.
Sun warmed the grass and sweet fruit. It was like a paradise on Earth, really. Light filtered through the greenery and cast a healthy glow over everything. Nothing but him in the woods. Nothing but him in-
There’s another crash, and this time it’s so close that even Jeraldy cannot deny its danger. He could hear a shout in the distance. It was feminine - and angry-sounding. Angry so much so that he grabbed a stick jutting out from between a tree root, just in case. He didn’t know who it was behind the treeline, but it certainly wasn’t Purple.
(Part of him - his very idiotic hopeful self- was more that a little disappointed, and perhaps a little hurt, that he hadn’t come back. His idiotic hopeful self was felt stupid for believing he’d come back at all.)
“Sigkin? Is- Is that you? I swear if you’re here, bachi-!”
Jeraldy is not Sigkin, so he grips his pathetic stick a little harder as the loud and angry voice gets closer. If he weren’t trembling at the time, he might’ve noticed how easily a defensive stance came to him. How he gripped his stick firmly, like a weapon, like a sword. How his hands shimmied down the base of the branch so he wouldn’t get burned when- he wouldn’t get burned when-
A figure emerged from the shadow of the canopy, pushing back vines and foliage. Shiny glasses cover their face, brows knitted in worry and that familiar look of hope. It was gone the second they laid their eyes on him, however, as Jeraldy felt a bad feeling that they knew him.
He didn’t have much luck with people who knew him, didn’t he?
“Jeraldy…?”
Quicker than he could blink, before he could even open his mouth to protest, a shiny black-and-gold gun (a gun) came up to meet his face.
Oh dear. This was not the pleasant, head-clearing walk he thought it’d be.
”Where’s Sigkin.”