Work Text:
“Hey, Tsuki?”
“Hm?”
“Do you think we’ll ever forget it?”
Tsukikage ran his fingers through Sora’s loose hair, the boy’s head resting on his stomach. Overhead, the stars glittered down on them. Sora’s eyes reflected the stars. Tsukikage let his head rest back against the roof. He didn’t need to ask Sora what he meant.
“I think the best we can hope for is for it to fade,” he said. “And to let us live a new life.”
Sora felt sick. He tried not to look at the wall beside him. Tried not to pay attention to the giggling kids in yellow jacket who were stabbing paper onto the wall with a knife. No. Not paper. Cards.
Cards with faces on them.
He kept his hands lightly clasped behind him, his face smooth. Before him, the tall boy in the blue jacket stared down at him. As though waiting for him to crack.
And then a horrible smile cracked over his lips.
“So,” he said. “You really want to join us?”
“Yes sir,” Sora said dutifully. “I agree with you. The Arc Area Project was incomplete. We need to finish it.”
The boy grinned wider. He clapped a hand to Sora’s shoulder, so hard that Sora almost fell over.
“We’d be lucky to have such a decorated officer join us,” he said, still smiling that sickening smile. “Especially one with such a high carding rate.”
Sora tried to pretend that he didn’t almost black out. Tried to forget the shudder of horror that passed through him as the rush of memories. Pretended that he didn’t want to throw up, thinking about the cards with the faces on them that had haunted him for months. He’d made himself forget before, until it no longer horrified him to push the button. He’d made himself forget enough so that he could live after the war was over. He could erase the months he’d spent becoming softer.
For this, he could become a monster again.
“But there’s just one tiny thing,” the boy said, smile stretching wider. “One thing that we’re going to need from you before you’re in.”
Sora’s hands tightened behind his back. Beside him, the wall was papered with miniature images of faces frozen in horror. Beside him, a girl was grinning as she stabbed another card into the wall with a knife.
“Of course, sir,” he said. “Whatever you want from me.”
Sora woke up screaming. Tsukikage woke with him, coming alert in a moment.
Beside him, Sora kicked, flailed. His limbs tangled into the covers, struck Tsukikage once in the chest, and Tsukikage quickly pulled the covers free of him.
“Sora,” he whispered. “Sora. I’m here. You’re here. It’s a dream.”
Sora woke with wide eyes, open so big that they were more white than green. He looked with a panic through the dark. His hair tangled up on his pillow, and he spasmed, hands reaching for something that wasn’t there. Tsukikage gently pressed his face to Sora’s hair and kept whispering to him.
Slowly, Sora relaxed. Slowly, his arms fell back to his sides. He panted as though he’d been running for hours. Gently, Tsukikage gathered him into his arms, and Sora pressed into him. His tears wet against Tsukikage’s face.
“Are you back?” Tsukikage whispered.
“I dreamed that it was you I carded,” Sora mumbled into his chest. “Instead of Hikage.”
He sniffled.
“And I woke up and I thought you were gone and then — and then I thought how awful that was of me. To be glad that I carded him instead of you. Oh fuck. Tsukikage, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry —”
Tsukikage held him a little tighter, stroking his hair as he cried.
“Sh,” he whispered, feeling his heart break. Tears bubbled to his own eyes, and he pushed his face into Sora’s head. “Sh. It’s all right.”
“I’m sorry,” Sora gasped. “I’m sorry. I wish I could forget. I wish I could just forget.”
Tsukikage didn’t know what to say. He never knew what he could do. He felt like he was so far away, even though he was holding Sora in his arms right now. Sora, scared and crying and lost. A boy who’d had his childhood stolen from him, and the thievery of it still haunting him.
“You don’t have to forget,” he whispered. “You just have to remember who you are now .”
“What do you mean Tsukikage’s missing?”
Hikage looked ashen, his arms folded tightly against his chest. Reiji looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Sora could only stare at them, his fists shaking at his sides. The Christmas cake he’d bought for Tsuki lay crumpled in its box on the floor, where he’d dropped it at the news.
“Asuka contacted me a week ago,” Reiji said. “There’s been a spurt of rebel activity in Academia. It seems that some of the students never came home — and some of them have resurfaced. Claiming that they want to reboot the Arc Area Project.”
Sora felt cold. Oh god. Oh, god.
“And what does that have to do with Tsukikage?” he said, not wanting to know, but needing to.
“He and I went to investigate the place. Just...reconnaissance. That was all,” Hikage said.
He looked so odd without his scarf on, even though he’d not been wearing it for months. It felt wrong to see him look so vulnerable — Sora and Hikage had taken their time getting used to each other again, but Sora still rarely saw him look so unguarded around him. Hikage swallowed, tightened his arms against his chest.
“He didn’t come back to the rendezvous point. And he’s not responding to any messages.”
The Christmas cake was left crumbled on the floor. Sora couldn’t breathe.
“Okay,” he said, sounding strangely calm to even himself. Somehow, he found himself far away from his own body. “Then send me in as a spy.”
“It seems that they’re recruiting out of the students still living at the school,” Asuka said, looking pale.
Reiji sighed, resting his forehead on his hands. Tsukikage stood at a stiff attention.
The dark office felt oppressive to Tsukikage, even with the big windows that took up the whole far wall. The sky was cloudy tonight, and not a single star shone through the curtain of night. Even the lights of the city below seemed muted. The night was supposed to be his domain, but it hadn’t been in so long — he felt like he no longer belonged in it. The thought made Tsukikage shudder.
“Of course they would,” Reiji said. “The students still living there are the ones who are still undergoing intensive therapy and care. They’re at their most vulnerable to be recruited into another fool’s war.”
“How did you find out about this?” Tsukikage asked, looking to Asuka.
Asuka bit her lip.
“It was Kumi,” she said. “My girlfriend. She’s mostly recovered, but she’s stayed on to help some of the others. She was approached by a student she didn’t recognize, who asked her what she thought about the Heartland Restoration and the breaking down of Academia’s hierarchy.”
Asuka rubbed her arms as though she were cold. It was a little chilly in Reiji’s office.
“Kumi had a bad sense from him, so she played along: acted like she was frustrated with the new system and annoyed at being forced to help Heartland. The student gave her some information to find ‘others who thought like her.’”
“And did she follow it?” Hikage asked.
“No. She had a panic attack as soon as he was gone, and then came and found me,” Asuka said. She looked very pale, even in the dark. “I know it would have been our best bet to let her get in there, but I won’t let her...I can’t send her back into a place like that.”
A brief silence fell over the room. Tsukikage felt sick. His mind cast back to Sora’s night terrors, or the sudden, distant look he’d get in public, as though he were suddenly very far away. And a new shudder passed through him to think of the other extreme: the cruelty and laughter of the Academian soldiers who had carded without a word.
Reiji blew out once, looking upset.
“Pass me that information,” he said. “We’ll find someone who can follow up on it. I hate to send anyone in, but an infiltration mission might be our best. Perhaps Yuzu and Selena, or Dennis, or Sora...”
Tsukikage felt something in him turn to frozen glass. He took a half step forward, and Reiji looked towards him. For a moment, Tsukikage couldn’t respond to the unasked question in Reiji’s eyes.
For a moment, all Tsukikage could think about was Sora. Sora, giggling at some stupid variety show. Sora throwing cookie crumbs at Yuzu in the coffee shop as the two of them bickered good-naturedly. Sora crying at the little wrapped birthday present from Yoko, so shocked that he was worth getting a gift from everyone.
Sora’s distant eyes, as his mind seemed to leave him and go somewhere else for a moment, somewhere he didn’t want to be.
“I don’t want them to go back,” Tsukikage said. “They’ve done enough. Send me to investigate first, at the very least. Send me instead.”
Sora followed the boy down the corridor. The carded faces eventually faded from the walls as they turned another hall. Sora memorized them as he went, so he could find his way back through when he brought the Lancers.
“Sir? Who were all of the carded people?” he asked, once his stomach settled. “Have you had much time to take cards?”
“Oh, people who showed up looking for trouble, mostly. An occasional poor sap from one of the dimensions when we send people out on their initiation hunting games.”
It takes everything Sora had not to pass out. Hunting game. He didn’t realize how badly his memories of Academia affected him until now. Breathing was hard. He felt a strange sensation in his chest, and his eyes began to flick around wildly, looking for some escape route to bolt. He sucked in a breath. He had to get back under control.
“Is that what you want me to do to join you, sir?” Sora asked.
“Normally, yeah,” the boy said, grinning. “We’d have you go out, bring back a card or two as proof. But...we’ve got a different problem to deal with right now.”
Sora tried to breathe. Think of something else. Think of Yuya, and Yuzu, and home. Don’t think about Yuya and Yuzu and everyone in cards and home burning to the ground. No, no, no. Think of Tsukikage. What would he do if he were in Sora’s position? He’d be calm. Think of Tsukikage, think of what this was for. Don’t think of Tsukikage’s face on a card stabbed to the wall behind you. Don’t think of the look in Reiji’s eyes when you asked if we had a way of reversing carding now that Arc V is gone.
The boy took Sora down to the end of the hall. There was a door with two soldiers stationed on either side of it. The boy waved them away.
“See, the other day, we had a rat find its way in,” the boy said, unlocking the door with his Duel Disk. “So, if you want in, all you’ve gotta do is card them. Easy, right?”
Sora blinked, pretending that the tears in his throat and stuffing up his head weren’t there. Of course this would happen. Of course he’d be asked to prove his loyalty. And if he wanted to keep the plan in motion, he’d have to do it. He’d have to be the perfect spy.
He’d have to kill the him he’d built since the war ended.
The door swung open. The boy’s smile didn’t change, as he indicted for Sora to go in before him with a sweep of his hand. Sora didn’t let his steps hitch. He took his mind away from his body, detached, a perfect puppet moving on orders. He’d get this over with. He wouldn’t cry. He’d wait until late at night to do that.
Just like Academia. Just like his old life.
He walked into the room. And everything in him set on fire.
Tsukikage was on his knees. His scarf was gone, his shirt torn, bruises covering his face and the skin that Sora could see. His hair had fallen from its ponytail and it looked matted and tangled and slick with sweat. His hands were tied over his head, suspended by the ceiling, head hanging down to his chest as he gasped for every breath, a bit of blood escaping his lips.
His head snapped up at the sound of Sora’s footsteps, and Sora almost broke down at the black eye that twisted one of his beautiful eyes shut, the exhaustion and pain shining in the other. His eyes sparked with recognition, but he didn’t acknowledge Sora, didn’t let his face change, oh, god, Tsukikage, he was working so hard, he was trying so hard, even despite the pain; there was no betrayal in his eyes, but only understanding — he believed in Sora, even now, even where he was, he believed that Sora was here as a friend, a spy, and not as a defected ally.
Sora didn’t realize he’d frozen right in the doorway until he felt the hand on his shoulder.
“Well?” the boy whispered right into his ear, and Sora knew. Oh god. They’d known. They’d know the whole time. “You gonna prove your loyalty, or not?”
Sora couldn’t breathe. His eyes couldn’t leave Tsukikage’s. He could almost hear the boy smiling wildly.
“You can’t really have thought we’d trust you, Shiunin Sora,” the boy said. “After all, everyone saw you — you betrayed Academia. Not only that, you joined the Lancers . We all saw you on those screens, during that interdimensional duel. You’re lost to Academia, Sora. You lost yourself. You let those softies turn you.”
Tsukikage’s face finally changed, ever so slightly. He stared right at Sora, and Sora could almost hear him, like he heard him every night he woke up with a scream in his throat — it’s okay, Sora. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. Sora trembled. He couldn’t. No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t handle this.
“But we’re willing to overlook that!” the boy said, squeezing Sora’s shoulder. “You just have to do this one thing. You just have to card him.”
He took Sora’s wrist and held his arm up, turning his Duel Disk on. Sora couldn’t stop shaking. It was too late, by now. The boy knew who he was. He wouldn’t let Sora escape with Tsukikage. His hand was firm on Sora’s arm, so Sora wouldn’t have been able to break away. He had only his other arm free, so that he could press the button.
Sora shook. What was he supposed to do?? Keep the mission going? Card Tsukikage? But he’d only taken this mission to save Tsukikage!
Tsukikage’s gaze was calm. He stared steadily at Sora. The thing that hurt the most was to see the trust. The acceptance. He would not cry, or beg, or blame Sora. That hurt the most. He wanted to be blamed. He wanted to be blamed .
This felt all too familiar. He felt like he’d stood over another ninja boy once before, and pushed the button without a hint of remorse. A decision he’d regretted nearly every day after. That terrible person had been him. He had been the boy who held him here now, ordering him to card Tsukikage.
Ordering Sora to kill the boy he loved.
Sora’s hand hovered over the button. Tears blurred his eyes. Tsukikage didn’t look scared. He didn’t look angry. Say something, dammit! Tell him not to! Don’t be such a hero! He felt himself getting colder. He almost felt, for a moment, like the person he’d been before was somewhere buried deep inside him — but was starting to dig its way out.
I can’t forget , he’d told Tsukikage once.
You don’t have to forget , Tsukikage said. You just have to remember who you are now.
Sora made a decision.
He pushed a button.
It all happened so quickly. The boy’s hand on his arm tightened. A light started to encase the Duel Disk, and Sora, too, but Sora used his free hand to unclasp the Duel Disk from his arm and throw it. As the Duel Disk turned to particles, it struck Tsukikage in the chest. The last thing Sora saw of him was his eyes, finally widening in shock and horror, trying to fling himself toward towards Sora.
Then he was gone, and Sora’s Duel Disk with him.
He didn’t have much of a chance to even think about what he’d done. The boy still had hold of him, and with a roar of anger, he ripped Sora around, slamming him full force into the wall. Stars flared in Sora’s eyes, and his knees gave out. He collapsed to the base of the wall, dizzy.
“You little bitch!” the boy screamed. “Where did you send him?? Where did you send him?”
He kicked Sora in the stomach and Sora spat up bile, eyes bulging. And yet, a wild laugh rose to his lips, coughing and hacking between giggles.
“Syke,” Sora gasped.
The boy shouted with a wordless anger. He smacked his Duel Disk on. A sudden, giddy thought occurred to Sora and he almost laughed out loud from the shock. Tsukikage was a card once too. I guess it’s my turn. Then his mind went quiet. I wonder what it feels like.
Sora peeled his eyes open, to face the sudden burst of white light. He had only one last thought before the world went dark.
Whatever happens, Tsukikage, no matter what it’s like as a card — I’ll remember you. I won’t forget you, at least.