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I’m useless.
That thought had been haunting her since the first day she was acknowledged as their tactician. She was utterly, completely, undeniably useless. How could she not be? Most of the Heroes who fought in the battlefield either came back brutally battered or teetering at the brink of life and death. Some couldn’t even move or train for a few days. As thankful as she was that there were healers available to tend to the fallen Heroes, it still didn’t rid the fact that their downfall was all her fault.
The guilt only worsened to know that they still trusted her judgment.
Were they stupid? They had to be stupid. Strong and fast, but bafflingly stupid. These were the princes and princesses who ruled a kingdom. There were generals and mages who possessed such power any person in her world could ever dream off. And yet, they put their trust on a mere mortal. And yet, they placed their trust on a mere human that was neither strong nor powerful.
These people were stupid.
But she was the most foolish of them all to be bringing them to their constant demise.
Slitch!
Her shoulders flinched at the memory of this evening. There was a skirmish in one of the villages in Askr. Emblian forces had somehow made their way into the kingdom again, this time thrashing and haunting innocent people’s lives as an obvious threat and warning not only to the poor Askrian people, but to the prince and princess themselves.
They managed to arrive on time, managed to ward off the foul soldiers and save any villagers who were almost bound as hostages to those heartless fiends. Kiran obviously tagged along since she was the army’s tactician. Alfonse and Kamui were close by her side, making sure her unarmed self was safe while at the same time they killed off any enemies around the innocent. Takumi and Camilla took the skies together, the Nohrian princess blissfully slicing off the enemies’ heads while the Hoshidan prince shot his arrows brilliantly into their defenceless skulls.
The mission went smoothly. Although Kiran couldn’t fight, at least she could help evacuate the villagers to a safer place until the soldiers were disposed of.
Everything was going well.
That is, until she heard it, the sound of something punctured deep into skin, the sound of Camilla’s scream piercing the bright blue sky.
Once deep brown eyes gazed upwards, pupils shrunk in the centre to see the Nohrian princess falling to her doom. Thankfully, Kamui was able to catch her sister in her dragon form. Thankfully, Takumi had hopped off the undead wyvern minutes before the arrow took aim into her left shoulder.
Kiran apparently had been far too distracted in helping the villagers that she had momentarily forgotten about her role to guide them.
It killed her.
The guilt that boiled in her heart only rotted and clung to the beating organ like talons into gooey flesh.
At long last, the others managed to kill off any remaining soldiers and save the village. At long last, Camilla’s undead wyvern had finally calmed down once it – she, Kiran corrected when she remembered Camilla cooing over and talking about the demonic creature – saw her mistress breathing and alive on the ground. The arrow was still pierced deep into her shoulder, and they were more than thankful to know that the village was close to the castle so that she could be sent off to the healers faster.
Camilla, like all the other foolish Heroes, didn’t blame her one bit when she came into the medical room and apologized endlessly.
Despite the princess’ smile, despite the princess’ sweet, sweet laughter, Kiran wanted to cry at the guilt that squashed her screaming heart.
She hated herself.
As she sat quietly, knees tucked in her arms and head lowered so heavily, Kiran wanted nothing more than to punch herself in the stomach. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to plant one fist to the hard ground so hard until her knuckles bleed. Maybe, maybe then she would feel the pain these Heroes were feeling all along. Maybe, maybe then she would find even the slightest glint of redemption from all the pain and torture she had given to them.
So with one fist curled tightly, Kiran raised her right hand high, so high, and took a deep breath.
The cold tile of the summoning chamber was cold, too cold, but she couldn’t give a damn.
Nails dug deep into the palm of her hand, she shoved her fist downwards.
Bam!
The jolting pain reverberated to her shoulders. Again she raised her first.
Bam! Again she landed another blow.
The left side of her right fist began to throb, but Kiran didn’t stop. Instead, she lifted her arm, positioning her fist so that the knuckles were positioned right above the cold, hard floor.
Her voice started to shake. Her eyes started to water.
Bam!
The third punch was harder, rougher, the pain far more excruciating than the former.
And yet she didn’t stop.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Every punch, every thrust, her muscles screamed in agony, begged for her to stop this agonizing torture. Her fingers began to swell. Her arm began to shake. The bones within were being squeezed by swollen muscles. The slim, delicate fingers were loosening, drawing out her nails that had pierced deep into her torn palm.
The pain was excruciating, but the pain in her heart was far, far worst.
Tears trickling down flushed cheeks, Kiran squeezed her eyes shut and shoved one fist down to the ground again.
Pap!
This time, the pain came from her hand that had instinctively unclenched at the sudden grip.
Quickly she snapped her eyes open. Quickly she gawked upwards, only to then gasp a short, choked gasp at the only person she wished wouldn’t appear to witness this sorrowful state.
But alas, God really loved to test her weak soul.
Brilliant blue eyes were as wide as they could be. He looked at her, then at her bruised knuckle, then back at her. A whirlpool of emotions swarmed inside the Askrian prince. Fear. Anger. Shock. Concern. Sorrow. All of them drowned him until he could barely breathe properly.
Since this afternoon, Alfonse was worried senseless for the summoner. He knew she felt terribly guilty over the aftermath. He knew she would coop herself from anyone to think over her actions. It wasn’t that Alfonse wouldn’t let her be. He knew she needed some time to think and recollect herself. But to have her absence linger till the night, concern started to bite the prince.
After hours of searching for her and asking around, he finally arrived at the summoning chamber in hopes that she was there.
Thankfully, he was right. Unthankfully, after hearing the sounds of loud pounding and running into the room to see her brutally hurting her hand, Alfonse knew he was a bit too late.
Silence thickened the air around them. One remained frozen in her sitting position while the other now kneeled beside the stunned summoner.
His lips parted open, but words were void.
He saw her. He saw her eyes red and thick with tears. He saw her lips trembled and parted so widely. Brilliant blue eyes then slid to her hand, the air inside his lungs immediately robbed to see bruises and tiny specks of blood.
It hurt.
It hurt him to see her like this.
His grip still tightened, yet just as careful and gentle so he wouldn’t cause her any more harm than she had already done. A deep breath was slowly taken, held, forced inside his throat as he focused his gaze back to her.
It hurt.
Unable to take the silence much longer, Kiran shivered terribly before breaking into a heart-breaking wail. Her other arm finally freeing her knees, the summoner roughly slammed her forehead to her kneecaps and bawled to her hearts content. Her left hand squeezed her head, fingers digging deep into the scalp and clutching hard onto the locks of black hair.
She then felt arms, his strong, warm arms, slowly, carefully sliding around her shoulders and head.
She hated this. She hated being so weak and vulnerable. She hated looking so weak and vulnerable. She’d rather hide and suffer in this sorrow alone. She’d rather tear herself away from any social interaction just to spare them from the pitiful grief that loomed inside of her.
She hated this. She needed to get away from this, away from him.
And yet, once she felt something, something soft, something warm softly pressing the right side of her head, Kiran only gritted her teeth and sobbed louder to know that her poor, disgusting self wanted this comfort.
So she let him be. She let her emotions take over her. She let her foolish self be selfish and pathetic.
She didn’t have the energy to do anything but cry, anyways.
---
Hours felt like an eternity in the summoning chamber.
After crying her heart out into his chest, Kiran soon realized that fatigue had long waited to take its hold on her. She was a little too late, however, for the moment she had stopped crying was the moment slumber finally calmed her screaming mind.
Alfonse never once let go of her.
Instead, his mouth had gingerly kissed the top of her head, constantly, numerously, an action that bared no ill will, nor was it intentional in the first place. He felt her body shiver weakly, whether it was from the cold of the wind or the chill in her icy heart, he didn’t know. One hand gently caressed her short, black hair. One hand rubbed slowly circles on her back.
It tore him from the inside out to see her like this.
He was so used to seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. Even in the hardest of times, he often saw sunshine rather than gloom from the summoner. When he first met her, she was rattled, startled, silent even as the realization that she was in another world processed slowly in her brain. But once that was settled, her perk and cheer gleamed brightly just like his sister’s. She was friendly, sweet, able to befriend any Hero she summoned in a matter of days.
And yet, when it came a time where a battle had gone wrongly, Alfonse soon realized that Kiran would rather shut herself away from anyone.
To protect herself from the world. Or to protect the world from herself.
Whatever it was, it burned Alfonse to know that she was burdening this unbearable pain alone.
His eyes felt warm.
After confirming that she was in deep sleep, the prince gently rubbed one hand onto her back again before carefully tucking the other arm under her knees. At the mental count of three, he lifted the summoner, carrying her so carefully, so delicately as if he was holding a baby bird. Her head heavily tipped to his collarbone. One arm was limp by her side while the other, the one with the bruised hand rested comfortably on her stomach.
Alfonse needed to get that healed before he could put her to bed.
---
He was very thankful for the healers that were awake at this time of hour.
He was especially thankful for Sakura and Lissa who swore never to say of this to anyone.
Silently he walked down the halls with her in his arms. He knew some of the Heroes were still awake. He knew there were ninjas and spies who observed his every move. Honestly, as embarrassing as it was to be noticed – Alfonse knew he would receive teasing smirks or judging glares in the morning – he only kept moving forward; it wasn’t like he had any ill intentions, after all.
Before he reached her room, Alfonse was seriously at lost on how to turn he knob considering that his hands were full.
Luckily and surprisingly enough, he was stunned to see the door had been opened slightly.
Panic bolted in the prince, but after hearing a single cough and looking to the side, that panic simmered to silent bafflement at the sight of a female ninja.
With a single nod, she – Kagerou, Alfonse remembered – disappeared into the darkness.
He made a mental note to thank her later in the morning.
Once inside the room, he slowly closed the door with his back. Kiran was surprisingly light, Alfonse wondered. Was she eating well? He realized that she was always absent when it was time for lunch or dinner after a failed battle. Was she hiding in the summoning chamber in hopes that no one would find her? And even if she did, how…how long had she been doing this to herself?
Was she like this too in her own world?
His throat felt heavy at the thought.
Carefully he placed her onto her bed. Making complete sure that she wouldn’t wake up, Alfonse gently tugged the sheets underneath and placed it on top of her body.
The cloak long removed since their visit to the healer’s room, Alfonse got a good look of her face.
White teeth gritted inside pursed lips to see bags under her eyes.
“Kiran…” Her name left his mouth as a heavy breath. Saliva sliding down a suddenly dry throat, Alfonse took a seat next to her body.
Her lips seemed a bit pale too.
Gods.
“I wish you could trust us to confide in us when something’s not well…” His voice was a low, rough murmur. Gaze never torn from the sleeping summoner, he raised his right hand. “I…I wish you could trust me…” Shaky fingers reached for her, reached for her hair that brushed across her forehead. “You’ve done so much for this army.”
One finger delicately brushed her bangs to the side. “You’ve done so much for me…”
Truly she was tired, for she didn’t even flinch at the caress.
In a way, Alfonse was truly relieved; she needed the rest.
He felt as if his heart had boiled up to his throat. This was the summoner who had done everything in her power to protect his people. This was the summoner who gladly helped a group of strangers despite being forced into his kingdom against her own will. This was the summoner who filled the castle halls with laughter and smiles.
This was the summoner who managed to break through his steel walls.
His vision blurred momentarily.
Gingerly, the back of his right fingers caressed her cheek, tracing down and down until he stopped at her chin. “I…” His voice was nothing more than a breathy, brittle whisper. “I don’t want you to go through this alone, Kiran…” Deep blue eyes moved to her head, the same hand followed his gaze as fingers softly brushed her hair. “You’ve done so, so much, and I trust your judgment…”
He looked at her face again; Gods, he missed her smile already.
“I trust you…” It was a dangerous move, he knew. “I trust you and believe in you a-and—” He had laid his heart out, bare and open for anyone – for her – to grasp it so easily in her hands, he knew. “I…”
His hand tenderly rested on top of her head.
“I…” The warmth in his eyes didn’t fade.
The sentence died at the tip of his tongue. Though his mouth still parted, ghosting out the words that pumped heavily and rapidly inside his chest.
He wanted to make her laugh and smile again.
Hand slowly, hesitantly, moved away from her, Alfonse took a long, deep breath.
“I wish…” Because, “I wish you can trust me too…” one was thing was for sure.
She had become the reason he was laughing and smiling again.
END