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Kaizuka Inaho was a quiet one.
...Are not the exact words most would use to describe the young hero of Earth, but they were the most appropriate.
He wasn’t entirely emotionless; he just didn’t express them as openly as others did. While others would scream and sob from grief, he would burn with a fire deep within. While others would smile and twinkle their eyes at the feeling of joy welling up in their chests, his face would be practically a blank slate. But if you looked closer, or paid more than a passing glance at the otherwise average looking boy, there would be a small skip to his step and a small rush to his words. While others showed their affection with kind words and cheer, he expressed his with the greatest gift he could give them: acknowledgement and acceptance of their existence and care.
Perhaps he had less emotional capacity than others, but he was firm in his stance that he did indeed feel. He was simply just quiet.
And because he did feel, because he wasn’t practically like a robot as some people would say, because he somehow found himself caring when all factors pointed in a direction to say that he shouldn’t, he did indeed feel hurt from those careless words and judging glances.
Cold, unmoving air.
Dimmed lights and only one slim ray of sunshine forcing its way through barred windows.
A lethargic man curled up in the corner of a bare room.
He didn’t even twitch when Inaho opened the door to the cell, only his eye peeking out from under much too long bangs acknowledging his arrival. He had expected this though. This was how Slaine treated him nowadays and it was understandable considering the bad blood between them and his own lack of true understanding of the other.
Understanding was probably the last thing that would ever happen between them and he didn’t particularly care for it. He rarely ever had people understand him and vice-versa. The job given to him by the Empress was to “save him from the chains of misery” and he quickly decided that it was not really him who could complete such a task. He would do what he could, just like how he approached any problem, and that was it.
Except this wasn’t just any problem and what he was dealing with was another person’s whole life.
The magnitude of it was heavier than any other task he had faced before and he already knew from the moment he told the other man about the Empress’ wish and was greeted by those bitter, self-depreciating smiles every visit after that this was one mission he was not suited for. He tried, he tried in his own way, but the question of whether it ever did anything at all was left up in the air.
That in itself was a failure.
He situated himself on the lone chair that was shoved over to the side of the room. Folding his hands on his knees, he leaned forward. “How are you doing, Slaine?”
He felt more like a shrink at times like this, but if he was asked what he actually was to the former Count, he would hesitate to give a one word answer. Much unlike that day many years ago when he had not hesitated at all to declare him an enemy. He was young then. You could even say that he was somewhat full of himself.
The blonde didn’t respond, even his eye that was on him earlier was now back to staring blankly at the wall. Inaho noted that he had gotten thinner. Again.
He had to wonder what the Empress actually wanted from all of this. Because there was no doubt that Slaine was withering. There was no doubt that Slaine possessed broken wings, not just damp ones. There was no doubt that Slaine would not last much longer like this.
They could keep him alive, that was certain with medicine and technology nowadays, but he would not truly be alive and was that not what he had promised the Empress? Would he be able to show her a lifeless doll, hooked up to machines and feeders, and say yes, he saved him?
He remembered the lively, well, livelier than this, Slaine who had bickered with him over his choice of books, his insistence on visiting the dead man, his apparent lack of tact. Those were the times that he thought that while they could not reach an understanding, they could at least in a way acknowledge each other and in a way, be friends. While they never reached that stage of a relationship, he did acknowledge the other even if Slaine never did the same for him.
He remembered clearly the day that it all started to fall apart.
In a feverish haze from the summer heat, Slaine had clung onto him, mistaking him for another. It was the first time that he had ever seen Slaine smile. He knew that the former Count was expressive, but he didn’t realize how much one’s emotions and feelings could be shown on such full display to another person with just the simple actions of a smile and radiant, shining eyes, baring their all. The blonde soon fainted from exhaustion and Inaho was left to deal with these new revelations and come to terms with the fact that he would not be the one to complete this task.
He kept distant after that and though he knew the other could sense that, he couldn’t bring himself to disregard the logical conclusions his brain had already conjured and step any closer. Not when he knew that there only failure up ahead. Not when he knew that it was all inevitable. Not when he knew that this was a story with a script written from the start and that script has him silently exit the stage partway.
As Slaine grew quieter by the day, he also dwelled in his own brand of quietness.
Everyday he would report to military authorities, every week he would visit the dead man, every month he would take time to spend with his concerned family and friends, every year he would send out letters that would receive no response.
It was all routine by this point, the only change being Slaine’s slow fall into nothingness.
His red eye gazed upon the blank look on the former Count’s face. “Rest assured, Slaine. Things will be okay from now on.”
That finally seemed to grab the other’s attention. His brows furrowed and he looked at him with a mixture of puzzlement and distaste. Inaho welcomed that, he welcomed anything other than that dull glaze in those blue eyes that he’s been forced to look at for so long.
He decided to keep going. “Perhaps from the start, it should have been like this.”
Inaho was a quiet one.
Not exactly the greatest choice for saving someone from themselves. Slaine needed someone who could get him to take off the chains of misery himself. Someone with the power of words, affection, and actions. Someone who could shatter the silence of this cell with their mere presence.
“What are you even talking about?” Slaine spat out with a glare on his face.
It had been a long time since he had heard that soft voice and though the words were laced with spite and there was a dull pain in his chest, he welcomed it.
He wonders now that perhaps this is just him trying to free himself.
Perhaps he was just being selfish.
But, was he not allowed that?
He tried, and he failed. Then, there was no point in mulling over that. The only thing he could do next was pass the baton, even if he didn’t want to.
He wasn’t being selfish. He wanted to say he was rather being selfless.
He wanted to be the one to fulfill the Empress’ wish. He wanted to be the one to finally save Slaine. He wanted to finally have someone who could stand on equal ground with him, maybe to bicker, maybe to fight, maybe to understand one another.
It was all too late though.
The arrow has already been set loose.
“Nothing much.” He tried smiling, but wasn’t sure if the corners of his lips even budged. Whether that was from an inability to express his emotions or whether he really just wasn’t in a state to smile at something like this was questionable.
Slaine peered into his eye now with those blue ones. No matter how lifeless Slaine got, those eyes would never lose their brilliant and vibrant color. “Are you okay? You’re more stone cold than usual.”
Inaho bit his lip. They really would never understand each other.
Slaine widened his eyes and for a moment, looked as if he was hesitating on whether to speak again, but before he could open his mouth, an explosion rung throughout the facility and the alarm bells were set off.
It was time.
Gunshots could be heard and another explosion shook the walls of the prison. Slaine leapt up from his spot on the bed and grabbed his arm. “What the hell is going on!?”
Ignoring him, yet noting that this was the first time they had ever had physical contact, he grabbed his own gun from his holster and steadied himself. Another explosion went off and soon the only footsteps that could be heard rushing towards the cell were that of two.
Just like in a climatic scene from those dramas Yuki used to watch, the protagonists, the true heroes...Slaine's heroes appeared with deafening thunder.
“Princess Lemrina...Harklight...” Slaine’s breath tickled his ear.
The two made quick work of the security cameras and pulled down their masks to reveal smiling faces.
“We’ve come for you, Slaine.” The female, likely to be Princess Lemrina, spoke. “And I’m not a Princess anymore. I’ve abandoned all that nonsense a long time ago.”
The hand gripping on his arm quivered and he knew then that he had been right.
“Why...” Slaine was pale, but his eyes were stormy with disbelief, confusion, but most of all, joy. Inaho had been right.
Harklight smiled at him before shooting a glare at Inaho. Now that the security cameras were down and most of the guards out of commission, he lowered his gun and stepped away from Slaine. Lemrina narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded before stepping over to Slaine and pulling him into a tight hug.
“Princess Lemrina...”
“Let’s go home.” Her voice was shaking, but her grip was tight as if she would rather die before letting him go. Her arms felt around his back, feeling his his bony form, and he could see her face cloud with agony. “Our home.”
Home was something he couldn’t become for him. All the factors were against him anyway. It couldn’t be helped, is what he told himself.
“I...I can’t...” Slaine moved away, clutching his pendant. “I have to stay here to repent...for all the crimes I’ve committed...”
“Slaine.”
All three heads turned to him.
“Staying here is not repentance.” He covered his left eye with his hand, ignoring the way Slaine flinched. It probably wasn’t fair to bring up his eye like this, but he had to get Slaine to agree to go. “Living itself is a trial. That’s the biggest punishment for you.”
That could be certain after seeing him deteriorate this past year.
There were some fates crueler than death and he was sure that this was it for Slaine.
“But I cannot allow you two to sacrifice your lives for someone like me!” Slaine still stubbornly shook his head.
Two, huh...So he wasn’t included in there.
That was to be expected though.
Slaine cared for them. Cared for them in a way different from the way he cared for the Empress. Cared for them in a different way than he could probably ever care for Inaho.
He had been right.
It was a pity that this was perhaps the one time that he didn’t want to be right.
He was a quiet one.
He was happy if the other person was happy. If Yuki could smile, then he was happy. If Inko could lead a normal life, he was happy. If Calm could make questionable jokes without a the past clouding his eyes, he was happy. If the Empress was doing fine somewhere out there, he was happy.
If Slaine could finally smile, no, if Slaine would just live, he would be happy.
It’s only now does he see that he’s very detached from his own happiness. He can’t grab it on his own. He has no part in it and that was a bit saddening.
But, that couldn’t be changed now. That’s just how he was and he accepted that.
He accepted that he had to let go in order for Slaine to be happy.
“Slaine, I love you.” Lemrina firmly stated, with no hesitation in her eye and not a quiver in her words. Slaine’s grip on his pendant got even tighter, but Inaho could tell that he was being wearing down by her words.
She was so straightforward, so direct, so open, so just incredibly loud.
She would keep running towards her goals, no matter how many obstacles she ran into, face them head on because that was her code of honor and way of showing the sincerity of her feelings.
She wasn’t like him who had to hide behind logistics and facts.
“So stay by me. Let me stay by your side. Let me walk with you.” She motioned to her free legs. “Let me try to become your reason to fight like you’ve become mine.”
Slaine’s eyes glossed over as he stared at her legs and he clambered backwards only to run into Harklight.
Inaho couldn’t bring himself to hear anymore.
Another explosion went off and Lemrina and Harklight were dragging Slaine away. Lemrina stopped though and turned around to point a gun at him.
“Consider it payment for this debt that I don’t kill you here.” Her eyes were cold. He remembered the harsh words she spat into his face when they had first met, back when she still thought Slaine was dead and Inaho was his killer. Back when she thought she had lost the light of her life. Back when she was so overtaken with grief that should be smothering, yet so expressive of it. She could freely cry for the blonde man while he had to live with the knowledge that he was alive yet suffering by the second because of him. She had the right to cry while he had none. “It’ll look bad on you if you’re the only one not injured and the prisoner gone so I’ll do you a favor.”
She pointed her gun at his legs...only to be stopped by Slaine.
“Don’t shoot him.”
“Lord Slaine, it is for his own good. There is no telling what those at the UFE would do to him if they found out he let the prisoner go without a fight.”
Slaine’s blue eyes were once again on him and he willed himself to capture every color, every turn, every lash, every shade of those eyes into his brain.
“I want Slaine to be the one to shoot me.” The words were out before they were processed through his mind and he was startled that he had even said them.
“Are you insane!? I cannot let Slaine dirty his hands anymore on the whims of others.” Lemrina raised her gun again.
“...Princess Lemrina, please allow me.”
“No!”
“Lemrina!”
It was the first time he had referred to her without the titles. It was the first time that he was looking at just her, just Lemrina.
“Please let me.”
She bit her lip and sent off another glare in his direction, but nonetheless handed her gun over to the blonde who took it and pointed it at him.
They were both standing this time.
The first time one had a gun pointed at the other, he had been on the ground.
The second time Slaine had been on the ground.
They were finally on equal grounds.
They were finally actually facing each other.
He was finally looking at only Slaine.
And Slaine was finally looking at only him.
He had been right and he wished that he hadn’t been, but at the same time, he was thankful that he had been.
Slaine needed someone who could get him to take off the chains of misery himself. Someone with the power of words, affection, and actions. Someone who could shatter the silence of this cell with their mere presence.
Someone like Slaine himself.
“Thank you.”
The gun went off and a searing pain went through his left arm, the impact causing him to crumble to the floor. Three sets of footsteps could be heard leaving the area and he let out a sigh of relief as he instinctively caressed the wound.
You finally understood me.
He curled his legs closer to his body, from the pain in his arm or his chest, he did not know. It had been shallow and he knew that Slaine had made it that way on purpose, but this was his last memento of the nameless man and he could not hate him for it.
He was a quiet one.
He would not scream when he was in pain. He would not complain when things were down. He would not go to others for comfort when he wanted nothing more than the warmth of another human being.
He remembered the last good look he got of Slaine before he was gone.
Slaine had finally smiled.
A beautiful smile even as he was doing such a thing as shooting him.
It was almost cruel how that was the last thing he would get to see of Slaine before he disappeared forever.
It was the first genuine smile he had received from the boy and it would also be his last.
He felt slightly bitter that Slaine would start showing that smile to others freely now.
But he also realizes that he had maybe succeeded, even if only a little bit.
He had made the other happy.
He was the one to do it.
He had taken a part in it.
He had taken a part in creating his own happiness.
Because that’s surely what this feeling in his chest is, right?
This soft, sweet pain in his chest that kept him from breathing. It must be happiness.
He grasped his arm even tighter as the world went silent and dark as the one thing that had kept him going was now finally gone.
He opened his mouth in an attempt to rid himself of the reemerging feelings of regret within him, but only gasps of air came out. He cursed himself that even at times like these, he was still like this.
He was a quiet one, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. It didn’t mean that he didn’t feel.
He simply just loved quietly.
But he has never been louder.