Work Text:
No matter how long they spent in Tokyo, Jonathan couldn’t get used to the smell. Even his eyes had adjusted to the artificial lights that showed in the dark. His ears were accustomed to the peculiar accents of the Unclean Ones. But the smell, a mixture of rot and blood and stale breath, was becoming worse with every day spent under the firmament. After a particularly taxing day of fighting through the streets to arrive at their next destination, Jonathan was feeling fatigued. Or, that's what he would blame when Walter noticed the luxuror holding his yellow cravat to cover his nose.
“Hoy,” Walter smirked, “Luxuror sensibilities too fragile for this land?”
Flynn sniffed the air, as if just realizing that it smelled differently from Mikado. Jonathan frowned and removed the cloth from his face.
“No, I’ve grown weary of it, that's all.”
“I must admit that I have too,” Isabeau sighed. “Walter, does it not bother you?”
Walter shook his head. “Not much. My family is made of fisherman, nothing smells worse than rotting fish.”
“Wine.”
Isabeau turned to look at Flynn. “Wine?”
“I don’t like the smell of wine.”
Walter put his hands behind his head, stretching. “What I would not give to be drinking at K’s tavern right now.”
Jonathan closed his eyes. “Tis’ useless to dwell on such things. We may not see Mikado for a while longer. Yet I too, would give short of anything to spend a quiet moment in the monastery courtyard.”
The group walked on in silence. By now news of their arrival had spread far across Tokyo. Hunters steered clear of them and even demons wouldn’t bother them as much anymore. Still, the odd hungry or powerful demon could strike, so conversation was best kept to a minimum.
The samurai navigated through a road full of metal boxes with wheels. The road in front of them began to rise like a bridge, though it was hardly suited for foot traffic. Isabeau looked at her gauntlet.
“Burroughs, do you know what these things are?” She asked, peering into one and grimacing at the rotting interior. After seeing so many of them, curiosity was getting the better of her.
The gauntlet screen flickered to life. “These are known as cars,” The white woman said, “They used to carry people from one place to the next.”
“Pity we cannot get them moving now,” Walter said, He kicked one of the wheels. “My boots are sure to wear out before we reach the next city.”
Jonathan smirked. “Perhaps you should have been a bit more frugal with your macca. Then you could purchase some at the next shop.”
“Hoy! These stones hold demon magic! They’ll come in handy.”
“Yes, demon magic that we are becoming well versed in.”
Walter frowned and thought for a moment. “Flynn, let's have a contest. I’ll bet you 1000 macca I can clear more demons than you.”
“How disgraceful,” Jonathan sighed. “Flynn, do not fall for his ploys.”
The raven haired samurai began to walk ahead of the group to avoid the coming argument.
“Fine then. Give me your boots.” Walter grinned. “If you're faring so well, you’ve no need for them.” He reached out and grabbed the back of Jonathan’s coat. “Come on!”
Jonathan continued to walk as if his coat wasn’t being tugged. “You brought this on yourself.”
“How cruel!” Walter inched closer to Jonathan. “Sell them to me at a discount then.”
“No,” Jonathan shook his head. “You have no macca, how could you possibly pay me?”
Walter grinned devilishly. “I can repay you another way.” He wagged his eyebrows. It was always fun to make Jonathan blush. Even the mildest dirty joke would throw the yellow samurai into a fit.
Now was no exception. Jonathan’s face turned as red as Isabeau’s scarf. “I’m sure that I would not enjoy any services you would offer in exchange, thank you.” He said curtly.
He began to walk a bit faster to escape the rowdy samurai. Walter kept up the pace though and followed while continuing to hold Jonathan's coat. Peeking behind her, Isabeau smiled at the sight of them. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a small manga she had been reading. Opening to a page in the middle, she held it in front of Flynn. He began to smile as well.
"What do you find funny?" Walter barked, suddenly letting go of Jonathan's coat.
Isabeau showed the pair a drawing from the manga depicting two feminine looking boys. One appeared to be walking away with the other crying and tugging on their jacket in a plea for them to stay. Now it was Walter's turn to blush.
"Hoy, don't compare me to that silly book. I may be charming but I'm not a sappy romantic."
"That is apparent." Jonathan muttered.
The two began to squabble again when Flynn stopped walking. He stood on the large bridge (an 'overpass' as Burroughs called it) and raised a hand. At this elevation, the group suddenly felt exposed. One of the tall lamps that lined the road began to flicker. Flynn signaled for a defensive position.
Without a sound, Isabeau drew her sword and moved to cover Flynn. Walter unsheathed his sword as well, but turned on his demon summoning program. This was a useless gesture, Jonathan thought, as surely they shouldn't rely on a tactic they will hopefully be able to abandon soon. He took the flank opposite Walter and readied himself.
With a pop, the flickering light blew out and a demon appeared suddenly before them. It looked like a very large deformed man. The bloated skin was a sickly shade of blue, pulled taught over multiple muscular arms. A gold chain dangled from its neck below a gaping mouth. Every exhale was a warm cloud of steam.
"This is a new one," Isabeau said in an attempt to calm her nerves.
"He's probably where that stench was coming from," Walter goaded, as if the demon could understand human speech.
Jonathan glanced at Walter. "If you can joke at a time like this, you cannot be prepared to fight."
"Stop it, you two!" Isabeau commanded. Her eyes followed the many arms of the demon as they pulled back in readiness to attack. If its mouth wasn't hanging open, she would swear it was smiling.
The demon gave a roar, bellowing with an ancient rage that only an impossibly powerful being could muster. The sound of it was enough to make the ground shake beneath the group's feet. Isabeau, always thinking one step ahead, leapt backwards to a sturdier part of the overpass. As the old pavement began to crumble, Jonathan looked at Walter in alarm. Walter was too preoccupied staring the demon down and preparing for battle to notice the spider like cracks forming where they stood. With a wicked grin, the demon stomped one foot, ending the battle before it started. The overpass began to collapse.
"Flynn!" Isabeau shouted over the sound of splitting concrete.
Walter watched as Flynn quickly reacted and grabbed on to a bit of exposed iron frame to keep from falling. And then he watched as the light of Tokyo quickly began to move around him. The ground gave way.
"Shit!"
Having seen what was happening, Jonathan quickly grabbed onto Walter's arm midair. He summoned High Pixie, the only winged demon in his stock, and attempted an escape. He managed to slow down their fall but the pair was too heavy for the small fairy. The rubble crowded in around them as they hit the ground below.
When the dust cleared, Walter's ears were still ringing. Somehow he had survived the nearly 100 foot fall onto solid ground. He squinted but couldn't see much. Consulting Burroughs, it appeared that he was trapped in a space between the collapsed pieces of concrete and pavement.
"Well, I suppose this must be what it feels like for the people of Tokyo…" he coughed.
"I must say, I don't find it particularly comfortable."
Walter's heart jumped into his throat. He tried to convince himself he was just startled but actually he was relieved to hear Jonathan's soft voice.
The gold samurai strained to shift from the awkward position he had fallen in. A sharp pain shot through his right foot and even in the darkness, it was apparent that it was pinned in the rubble. A pained gasp escaped him.
"Hoy, do you need healing?"
Jonathan let out a slow breath. "No. Unless I can free myself, healing now would be useless."
Why did he have to reach for Walter? The frustrated thought battled his more altruistic side. It would be embarrassing to think he had looked to Walter first out of a protective instinct. Even more so if it was out of a want to be protected by his fellow samurai. If he had ignored the other samurai he could have saved himself the trouble of a broken ankle.
“Well, thanks for lessening the impact,” Walter sighed, “had it not been for your quick thinking, I may be trapped under here alone. And much worse off.” He felt his face grow warm and silently thanked the gods that it was too dark to see anything.
“Of course,” Jonathan responded. He hoped that he sounded nonchalant despite being taken aback at the gratitude. It was uncharacteristically cool of Walter to mention it. “I’m certain you would have done the same for me.”
The samurai crouched in the small space for a moment, regaining their bearings. The sounds of a battle could be heard faintly outside the rock. Isabeau and Flynn must have begun fighting that mountain of a demon in order to safely search for them. Jonathan tried to focus on anything other than the shooting pain in his leg. Walter reached in his bag and retrieved a hama stone, casting it to light the space. The stone glowed with a curious magic and dully illuminated the faces of the two young men.
"I told you we would need these." He grinned, trying to replace the heavy mood with fear.
Across from him, Jonathan was looking at the rubble. Roughly a foot from them were the gruesomely severed legs of his High Pixie, crushed under a rock itself. No wonder it wasn't appearing in his stock. Jonathan himself was lying on his stomach, propped up on an elbow. He was maybe two feet from where Walter crouched. Walter, though free, was on his hands and knees. His back scraped the sharp ceiling above as he tried to shift closer to Jonathan.
"I'll summon a demon and get us out of here."
Jonathan shook his head. "Wait. If we get free now, I'll only be a burden. Let Flynn and Isabeau finish off the demon first."
Walter pouted. "You may be injured but I'm still capable of fighting. I wager Flynn and Isabeau could use my service."
How full of himself. "You sound like a certain green samurai." Jonathan quipped.
"I do not sound like Navarre!"
"True. You may be more conceited than he was."
Walter flopped down on his back beside Jonathan. He winced, scrapes and bruises on his back beginning to ache.
"If you really feel that way, why slow my fall?"
The question was meant to be a light hearted retort but it felt like a knife to Jonathan. Why did he try to stop Walter's fall? Yes they were fellow samurai but Walter was more than capable of summoning his own demon to catch himself. He couldn't think of a good enough excuse.
"It was a mistake. It won't happen again."
The air between the young men grew heavy. Walter pulled away.
"If that's how you feel…"
A small beam of light formed between the two. Dust trickled down as Flynn removed one of the rocks above them. As soon as the gap was big enough, Walter climbed out. Flynn and Isabeau freed Jonathan with minimal help from the blue samurai. Jonathan was being unreasonable after all. He didn't need to act so high and mighty just because Walter was caught a little off guard. Walter pouted and pretended to shake rubble from his robes.
Isabeau held a hand over Jonathan's mangled foot and took a steady breath.
"Diaharan." she said firmly, the healing spell creating an emerald glow around the wound.
Once the light dissipated, Jonathan flexed his leg. Though his white boots were stained red with blood, the wound was completely healed. He stood and smiled wearily.
"Thank you. I apologize for causing you trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," she smiled. "I'm just relieved that you two are alright."
Flynn nodded in agreement. The demon's golden chain hung triumphantly from his neck. Walter laughed at the sight of it. He truly was in a class of his own, that guy. Quiet yet deadly. Walter admired that. He turned to Jonathan only to see him avert his gaze.
A month passed without much excitement. Tokyo was vast, covered in debris that made it hard to travel. Not to mention an increase in demon attacks. The four intruders did what they could to help the people of Tokyo while trying to accomplish their own mission. Being away from home was beginning to take its toll when the group came across a small hotel near Shinjuku.
It was Isabeau who had suggested they spend the night. She had read about hotels in her manga and figured it would be more comfortable than spending another night camping in abandoned stores or huddled in rusted cars. The lobby of the hotel wasn't terrible. It was relatively clean and well lit. Some leather couches sat around a space heater. Behind the counter was a gruff looking man dressed better than most of the hunters they had met so far. He didn't greet them, instead waiting for them to state their business.
Isabeau spoke up. "We would like a room please." The man looked them up and down. "For the night." she clarified.
"Nightly rate is 10,000 macca." he said. The man had on a hunter association patch but Flynn spotted a Ring of Gaia pin and Ashura Kai emblem on the counter behind him. He probably changed it depending on the patron.
"10,000 macca? Tis a bit steep, no?" Jonathan asked the others.
Walter shook his head. "That last quest paid 5000. Even if we were to pool our macca, it would hardly be enough."
The clerk glared. "No macca, no room." Though as the four turned to leave, he called out. "Hey. I've got a few rooms in the back. They're a dumb but I'll give em to ya for 5000." Maybe he was with the association after all.
Flynn took out a small pouch and paid the clerk. The man thumbed in the direction of a door tucked in the corner of the room.
"Thank you," Isabeau smiled. She started toward the door with the others in tow.
"I can hardly wait to get a good night's rest." Walter stretched.
Flynn nodded and opened the door. Like a seal being broken, a burst of cold air rushed out and filled the room. Slimy tentacles pulsed along the walls like the insides of a living being. The group had unwittingly paid to enter a trap. The man must have been scamming all factions of Tokyo to lure them into the demon domain in the back room.
"No rest for the wicked," Walter said sadly.
Jonathan sighed. "I am growing weary of this. Let's part ways so we can destroy this domain quickly."
Flynn began to walk further into the domain. "Isabeau." He called.
"Do not leave me with the likes of him!" Walter and Jonathan shouted in unison. Flynn smiled slyly at Isabeau and kept walking until he rounded a corner out of sight.
Without much of a choice, Jonathan and Walter headed into the domain as well. Neither said a word for the first few twists and turns. Finally, Walter spoke up.
"Don't get in my way."
"Pardon?"
The blue samurai glared. "I don't need your help to prove myself. Stay out of my way."
Jonathan frowned. "What brought this on?" His golden eyes widened slightly.
"I don't need you saving me." Walter stressed the word 'saving'. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated.
Ah. So that's what it was about. Jonathan pouted. "Well you won't need to worry about that." he walked past Walter.
Furious that Jonathan had the last word, Walter resolved to take his anger out on the first demon to appear. It wasn't long before they found the clerk transformed into a gruesome metal dragon. The pair defeated it before meeting up with the others to spend another night in a damp storefront.
Almost a year after becoming samurai, Mikado seemed a distant memory. The time spent in Tokyo was nearing four months and it was beginning to seem impossible to find the black samurai. In an effort to search quicker, the party split into two groups. Walter suggested that since he and Flynn were the strongest fighters, they each head a team. Flynn and Isabeau didn't argue. While insulted, Walter didn't either.
"This land is so vast, do you suppose the Black Samurai has slipped by us?" Walter asked. He looked at the dark ceiling. "Has he returned to Mikado?"
Jonathan shook his head. "It's possible but I don't think he would. I have a feeling they want us to see as much of Tokyo as possible."
"Hmm, it does seem that way."
Walter turned his gaze to Jonathan. Even without a proper washing, his hair still seemed soft and fluffy. Walter ran and hand through his own hair, slightly greasy, and wished for a long bath. A nice hot spring under a clear sky. A warm soak in the barracks. Jonathan with nothing but a towel draped around him.
Walter shook the thought from his head. Where did that come from? He looked back up at the ceiling. Suddenly, a small drop of water hit his cheek.
"Huh?"
A sound like the drumming of fingers on a desk rose up behind the young men. The air turned cool and thin.
"Rain?!"
Jonathan checked his gauntlet as the rain quickly went from a light misting to a downpour.
"Burroughs! How in the world is it raining?!"
She lit up. "When humans breathe, they expel a small amount of moisture into the air. This has become collected under the cool rock of the firmament above. If a warm pocket of air mixes with the collected moisture out can create a localized shower."
Walter dashed to find cover. "To hell with this science lesson! Let's find cover. This is not the type of washing I want."
Jonathan ran to catch up with his fellow samurai. The pair looked desperately for shelter. A couple of cars seemed passable but a closer look showed hole a rusted in the roof. Walter used the hilt of his sword to shatter the windshield of a nearby van hopped through.
"Hoy, this way!"
The two huddled in the back of the van. Cold and rain seeped in through the broken window. Jonathan shivered.
"You could have tried the doors." he frowned.
"It was quicker this way." Walter huffed. He stuck his hands in his armpits. "You didn't want to get stuck in that unnatural weather did you?"
The Luxourer opened his mouth and closed it again. He shook his head. Walter raised a quizzical eyebrow. Jonathan shook his head again and pulled his knees close. Walter watched the rain drops as they rolled down Jonathan's cheeks.
"Out with it."
"You never think before you act, do you."
It was more of a statement than a question. Jonathan narrowed his eyes. The Casualary felt those golden eyes pierce into him.
"Say what you really mean. You've held it in for quite some time." he said finally.
Jonathan sized him up. "Remember the bridge a few months back? If you hadn't been so focused on fighting, you would have sensed the collapse. If you hadn't been so keen on seeing more of Tokyo, we wouldn't have been near that trap hotel. Any time something seems to go amiss, you are the cause. You act without thinking and when you do think, it is only of yourself."
Normally soft spoken, Jonathan was nearly shouting towards the end of his speech. His cheeks red with frustration. Walter scoffed.
"Are you not tired of this 'high and mighty' act?"
"Me? Do you not constantly boast your own fighting skills?"
Walter shrugged. "Yes, but I realize that I'm doing it. And I can back it up too. But what pisses me off is that you aren't even doing all this or praise. You're doing this because you're a genuinely caring person to everyone but yourself." He said it so 'matter-of-factly'. He wasn't mad, more frustrated at Jonathan.
Rain drummed on the metal roof of the van. It filled the silence between them. Outside a Lillim squealed in delight as she danced in the downpour. Jonathan wrung his hands together.
"I...I was a selfish child. And as a result, I lost someone close to me. My parents worked at the monastery so I was often alone. I used my time to train so I could protect others." Jonathan wasn't sure why he was telling Walter this. Sure they were fellow samurai, but everything that had happened before the rite was rarely discussed.
Walter closed his eyes.
"That's hardly an excuse."
"Pardon?!"
Both men frowned. Jonathan looked wounded, pouting his lips. He locked eyes with his fellow.
"I grew up getting into fights. I worked my butt off every day doing real labor. I slept on dirt and ate only occasionally. Yet here I am, the same as you. I'm fighting alongside you, killing demons. I believe in the samurai code and in helping people. But I also know when it's wise to look out for oneself."
While he didn't usually agree with Walter's philosophies, especially when it came to the people of Tokyo, he had to admit the blue samurai had a point. He suddenly felt drained and slumped against the side of the van.
"I see your point. But I cannot abandon my principals."
"Go on! Be selfish for once! What is it that you want?"
Jonathan winced at the harsh words. Before he could think, his hand shot out and touched Walter's bare chest. Purple eyes widened. The gentle samurai went to pull his hand away but Walter held it firmly in place.
"I-I was just…" Jonathan stammered. "Trying to push you away…"
"No you weren't." Walter resisted the urge to grin.
"Oh, as if you're such a prize." Jonathan retorted but his words had lost all venom. Was that his hand trembling or did Walter just shiver?
"May I be selfish for a moment?" Walter asked. Jonathan nodded, breathless. "I want to be with you. Have ever since I saw you slay your first demon in Naraku. The truth is, I like how selfless you are, just not when it's at the expense of yourself." he glanced at the scuff marks left on Jonathan's boot from the bridge collapse.
It was an unholy thought, two men growing fond of each other, but Jonathan had to decide which was worse. Is it better to follow the status quo and lie, or sin and be truthful? He had confessed his feelings for Walter to a priest before leaving for Tokyo. The priest was surprisingly accepting but he had gone missing the morning before the samurai departed. Excommunication to Tokyo didn't seem like a punishment to risk. At least, not until Walter leaned forward and kissed him.
It was quick. Lips just ghosting over each other. Jonathan could swear he could hear Walter's heart beat over the rain. Or maybe it was his own. He peered up through long eyelashes, golden iris shining in the low light. Even though he was the one who made the move, Walter blushed.
"See that wasn't so bad. Sorry I had to say those things. I couldn't get my courage up otherwise."
"Hardly an excuse but I forgive you."
Their lips connected again with more force this time. Walter held back, going slowly for Jonathan's sake. Outside the rain slowed and stopped as quickly as it had started. The blue samurai pulled back to look at his work. Jonathan's cheeks were flushed and his cravat coming undone. He smiled, kicking open the back doors of the van.
Walter hopped out and extended a hand to Jonathan. He took it and emerged with a sheepish grin.
"It feels good to be selfish."