Work Text:
The streets of Erebonia were scary at night. If anyone dared to walk outside of their homes after 8PM, they would certainly be robbed, harassed, or worse. For a country that had the most advanced technology of Zemuria in the current era, the level of violence was reaching absurd levels.
If someone were to ask the reason behind that, they would say it was because of the state of the “cold war” between nobles and commoners. The differences between classes were enormous, and because of that, the class without many privileges started to resolve their matters with their own hands - that is, to choose people to compete against the most powerful nobles and get a position in the government.
But that was a story for another day.
Because right now, all that Rean Schwarzer wanted to do was to get to the house of his client and go back home as fast as he could.
His job was quite simple. In the middle of a possible war, all that he did was fix machines and provide enough artillery to the nobles’ side in the form of machines or robots. At first, he didn’t want to follow the footsteps of his father like this and take over their store, but it was better than living with the help of someone else.
All of his robots were quite simple, to be honest. He still had friends that were commoners, and the war could go to hell and he didn’t care. For all he knew, many nobles deserved to be punished for their atrocities, but at the same time, many commoners were going overboard. This time of conflict made everyone’s ugly parts appear with much more force, and Rean was glad that he could make many friends in his school years that shared his view.
That being said, he still needed money to get food and basic necessities, so this job was especially important to his life. He wasn’t helping the war directly because most part of his robots were, to be honest, useless in a fight. Who would bring a machine to the battlefield, when its only function was to clean the floor?
That’s what he thought his life would be for the rest of his years - fixing and making machines until he could retire.
At least until he got a phone call from an unknown source. The voice, mixed with many others so Rean wouldn’t know the correct one or their gender, informed that they had a job for him - they wanted Rean to fix a robot that would be found in a specific address in a specific time.
Taking care of shady business was not really his focus while working, but something beyond him made him accept. So, while walking towards his destination, Rean could only curse himself for accepting that deal and walk many abandoned streets of Erebonia near three in the morning.
Finally, after having to deal with only a weird drunk man in the middle of the street, Rean reached the place of the deal. It wasn’t as bad as he imagined, really. He expected some kind of closed space with a bunch of bearded men with eyepatches, holding axes, waiting for him so he could run for his dear life right away. But instead, he only found a box.
A box that had, “Please fix me as soon as possible <3” written on it.
Why a heart for an emoji, really? He could understand if it was a smiling face that usually meant murder in the communities of younger people nowadays, but a heart? Well, bad taste or not, Rean took the box with him.
That was his second mistake that day, he noticed. What if there was some kind of bomb inside of it? He had never done anything for anyone to hate him, but by god, what if one of the roombas he had made had managed to kill someone in the battlefield after all?!
He shook his head. The lack of sleep was clearly making him paranoid. It was time to go back to his home, take a shower, and worry about whatever was inside of the box the next day -- or later that day, to be more precise.
-*-
“And, you just took the box? Without even knowing who sent it?” Said the female, sweet voice at the other side of the phone.
“Yes,” answered Rean, busy cooking his breakfast and holding the phone between his head and shoulder. “I know, I know, I shouldn’t have accepted, but before I noticed it I was already walking the streets.”
“Oh, Rean,” said the voice again. “What if you took something sinister with you? Like Chuckie?”
“Emma, that is a movie character. I’m going to be fine.”
“No, no,” said his friend, worry still present in her tone. “This is an actual story, Rean! About robots being sent to innocent people, and then they are murdered in the middle of the night. Please, throw this box in the trash right now.”
He finished making his juice and put it on the table. “I’m not going to throw it away, Emma. I already took the job, so might as well see what is inside of the box, right?”
He could hear her sigh at the other end of the call. “Just please be careful, OK? Talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later, Emma.” And with that, Rean finished the call. He knew his friends were always worried about him, but Chuckie, really?
Of course the contents of the box were going to be innocent. Right?
Suddenly a chill came to Rean’s body. He decided to open the box while holding a kitchen knife.
Just for precaution. Not because of some imaginary doll assassin.
-*-
“What a cute bird.”
Of course, a kitchen knife was not enough, and Rean decided to call some of his competent friends to back him up.
And by “competent friends”, he meant Fie with her gun.
Too bad the gun was not necessary. Inside of the box, they found a small, cute robotic bird. It was apparently sleeping.
The black feathers were almost scary, but Rean suddenly felt stupid for calling someone just to back him up on it.
“So,” said his smaller friend. “I guess you won’t need this for Chuckie anymore.” She was pointing to one of her handmade bombs.
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Rean. “Thank you for coming, Fie. How is school treating you?”
She shrugged. “The same as always. Only another year and I can join Laura on martial arts teaching.”
“I wish you good luck,'' said Rean, waving to his friend as she left his house.
Rean looked at the bird sleeping inside of the box. He wondered if there was something special inside of it, since the shady voice still bothered him. Maybe if he tried to see its parts?
With nothing to lose, Rean took his screwdriver and started to disassemble the small robot.
Right before starting it, all Rean could hear was a high scream. The sound waves were almost as if he was right in front of many children yelling.
“Hey, hey hey hey! What’s the big idea?!”
“What?” Said Rean, once he finally got his composure together. “Who said that?!”
“Look here, you idiot!”
“Here?” He looked around his apartment. Nothing. “I don’t see anyone!”
“Look inside of the box, damn it!”
And then Rean noticed it. The bird that he had been about to investigate was talking to him in all his(?) glory, and pointing his wings furiously at him.
“Finally!” the bird yelled.
“Pardon me,” Rean said. “But it’s not everyday a cute robot bird yells at me.”
That was probably the worst reaction he could have in this situation. He could first ask what the robot was doing inside of a box, or why it was talking for starters. Not calling the thing cute.
The voice was definitely not cute, at least.
“Well, thank you!” The bird kept yelling. Why was it yelling. “But anyone would scream in fear if they saw someone approaching them with a screwdriver.”
“I can give you a few examples of manga that would disagree.”
“Oh, I know, I personally like-- Wait, this is not the time for it!” The not-cute bird finally left the box, looking at his surroundings. At least it didn’t sound disappointed when it said, “Not bad, not bad, I can get used to it.”
At the last part, Rean raised an eyebrow. “Used to what?”
“Living here, of course!”
….
What .
-*-
From all the movies about it, nothing could ever prepare Rean for that afternoon. Or morning, even.
Apparently, the bird was sent by a group that was unknown even to him. And yes, he was apparently male. Didn’t even remember his own name, but he could at least get an idea where he came from. A soldier, fighting in the civil war. An injury. A really bad one. Couldn’t remember anything else, so he most likely was hit hard on the head.
The next thing he knew, he was already in the body of a mechanical bird, being sent elsewhere, with only a voice guiding him.
“ You deserve something better than a life on the battlefield ,” it said. “ However, until you decide what to do with your life, I’m sending you to someone that can get you a new body .” The bird didn’t know if it was a man or a woman talking inside of his head (certainly a communication device installed?) since the voice was disguised enough to sound like a dying mouse.
That comparison was terrible, Rean thought. The entire situation was ridiculous, too. So, he was the one responsible for the bird now? And to get it a new body? How did that even work? For starters, he builds simple machines for housework, not cyborgs and--
Wait a second.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Rean concluded.
The bird made himself at home. He was looking at the journal, after eating some of the fruits on the table (he wasn’t about to ask how a mechanical bird could eat real fruits). Looking at his puzzled face, the bird asked. “What do you mean?”
Taking a seat next to it, Rean continued. “I mean, you probably lost your memories because of some injury, right? Soldier and all. But it’s impossible to transfer the mind… or soul, whatever we have inside, to the body of a small bird and be completely sane after it. I don’t think this is even remotely possible outside of some crazy sci-fi story. So, what are you, really?”
The bird finished eating an apple (where even was its stomach?) and answered. “I never said I was human.”
Huh.
“So, let me get this straight,” Rean said, with a hand over his face. The friendly cute bird could see his eyebrows furrowed. “Someone - that was probably your friend or a person that cared about you - sent you to my apartment through an anonymous message so I could fix your body. You have selective amnesia, but know enough to remember you were a soldier,” he paused. “The government is sending cyborgs to fight? Really?”
“Maybe?” It shrugged. “I personally don't care. It’s kind of hard to, no memories and all that jazz.”
“Is your friend alright in the head?” Rean asked. He needed to touch the elephant in the room sooner or later, and there was an entire metaphorical zoo inside of that room at that moment. “I only make robots for simple tasks, such as cleaning, washing, and other types of work you usually have to hire a maid for. I make roombas, mister bird. I don’t make cyborgs. Why me?”
“Hey, you sometimes send them to the military, right? At least that was what you said earlier. And who knows, maybe I was a roomba? A flying roomba!”
“You mean, something used for spying? But you said you were a soldier, so you probably had human features, right?”
“Maybe I was one of the cool ones that could shapeshift?”
Rean decided to leave and get medication for headaches.
-*-
“In any case,” Rean said, after ingesting his pills. “You need a name.”
The bird tilted its head.
No, he was NOT going to call it cute.
“I can’t call you mister bird forever,” he said after a sigh. “Maybe you can decide on something cool?”
It didn’t look annoyed, so maybe that was a good idea. “What kind of bird am I?”
“You don’t know?” Rean was surprised. Maybe the mind was transferred to that body recently, after all. “You are a crow.”
“Eh, it could be worse. But that works! You can call me Crow.”
“Really, that’s it?” Rean took note of the bird having a simple taste. “No time to think at all?”
“It’s a cool name,” Crow said. Rean was starting to think he had some obsession with sounding or looking cool. “Besides, maybe that was the reason they chose this body for me?”
-*-
“So,” Rean handed Crow a paper. “What do you think?”
Crow looked from his comfortable spot on the sofa, only to find some drawings and… the design of some white haired muscular man on the paper. “What’s that?”
“Your new body. I tried to think of something that would fit your personality.”
Crow only stared at him.
“You gave me a pretty hot body there, mister Schwarzer,” he said, no shame or whatever in his voice. “Your artist skills are great, but do you know how weird this is?”
“What?!” Rean was horrified. Horrified. He wished it truly had been Chuckie inside of that box by now. “How did you even jump to this conclusion?! I just thought it would be good for you. Weren’t you a soldier anyway?!”
Crow chuckled, proud of getting such a reaction out of him. That son of a…
Once he was composed, Rean finished his explanation. “It wasn’t me, by the way. This was made by a friend of mine, Gaius. He is an artist.”
“With really good taste, I must add,” Crow said. “But seriously now, why do you even bother? You said it yourself, you don’t make cyborgs. Or advanced robots anyway. Shouldn’t you leave this task for someone else?”
“You raise a good point,” Rean said. “And I actually asked another friend, Alisa, to help me with this part.”
Rean was going to ignore the question of why he bothered to help. He wasn’t sure himself, after all. Maybe he just got attached to Crow.
“Oh, I saw the pictures of your class together and I think I remember her,” he said, before Rean could be more lost in thoughts. “Blond hair, really developed, sexy features?”
“She would kill you for that last part, but yes,” Rean nodded. “Unfortunately, it didn’t go well.”
“Why not? What did she say?”
“Please, Alisa,” Rean’s voice came from the other side of the phone. “Your family works with this stuff, right? I can pay you as well, so isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Rean, I would love to help you. For free, too! You are one of the most important friends I have. However…”
“Is it your family again?” Rean asked, worry clear in his voice.
“Oh no,” came her cheerful reply. “My mother is traveling at the moment and I’m only with Sharon and, sometimes, my Grandfather. We are doing great.” It’s just...”
“AW YES BABY!” Came a loud voice from Rean’s living room. He could also hear the sound of horses.
He could also hear Alisa’s sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to help a gambler.”
“And that’s it,” Rean finished his recollection. “Your fault.”
Crow looked totally dejected, to the limit of his tiny bird body. “One day, people will finally see the glory of betting on races.”
“Not with my money, I hope.”
Crow stared at him. Rean noticed his new friend started to make a habit out of it. “You know I arrived here without any money, right?”
Maybe he should give him a trash can for a body.
-*-
From a well hidden spot outside of Rean’s apartment, a shadow was looking at the bickering, weird pair.
Vita Clotilde was not one to help her juniors, especially when they were clearly not fit mentally to take lives everyday. That was why she had planned this whole facade. She wanted to give Crow a peaceful life, away from all that death, no matter how much he was helping her with her objectives. Cyborgs still had their human parts, after all.
“Oh, dear,” came her gentle, but dangerous voice. She never wanted to see that body bleeding so much. Even his mechanical parts were all broken beyond repair. “I’m sorry, Crow. I wish I could have helped you more than that.”
His voice was weak. Almost as if the simple act of opening his mouth was giving him huge amounts of pain. “D...on’t wo...rry,” he said, with a “I lost a bet, and now I’m paying the price” hidden there, somewhere. Vita always liked that cheerful side of his, but that moment was terrible for such jokes.
No one would ever know what happened afterwards. Vita would feel a sour taste in her mouth if she left him to die.
That’s why she used a dangerous spell to save him. Transferring souls was against the code of the Goddess and everything She stood for. Vita could hear her Grandmother screaming from across the continent.
“That young man is the best choice for a decent future for you, Crow,” she said, leaving the place with a smile on her face. “I hope we can meet again once you get your new body.”