Chapter Text
Inaho briskly walked through the dimly lit halls of the prison. A wave of irritation swept through him as the guards attempted to call him back, though it failed to appear on his face as usual. He vaguely heard the words of papers and other formalities, but he ignored them in favor of hurrying to the designated meeting room of this cage that held just one prisoner.
It had been three months since he had last visited the former Count and the most infamous man on two planets, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.
Inaho wasn’t really sure what was keeping his feet from moving towards the facility. He had initially spared the man’s life because it was the last wish the current Empress of Mars made as Asseylum and not the political figure she was now.
“Please release him from the chains of misery.”
Inaho had to ask, what does it mean to make someone happy? He mused that he must already be far from the mark when he unconsciously thought of “making” the other man happy. Yuki had once tried explaining the concept of happiness to him when he was young after they had finished watching a movie on the subject, but she had eventually given up after it was apparent it was not truly reaching him. Happiness was not such a word to be carelessly tossed around. That’s all Inaho concluded from his sister’s efforts.
Finally reaching the glass room, he stared at the lone figure inside. Slaine Troyard was staring blankly at the chessboard in front of him. Inaho noted that he had lost weight. Again.
What a pain.
He couldn’t help but feel that way. He felt sorry for being unable to fulfill his promise with the Empress, but he too was human. There were things he couldn’t do and it was clear that “saving” Slaine Troyard was one of them. That and he himself wasn’t fully devoted the task. The man did shoot his eye out after all.
He pushed the key into the door and opened the door. Slaine didn’t look up. Sighing internally, he strolled over to the desk and plopped down.
The glass chessboard stood between him and the criminal. Slaine had never reached for any of the pieces so the score between them remained at 0-0 ever since the blonde was placed in this prison. Despite the other’s obvious unwillingness to play, Inaho continued to have the guards place the chessboard in between them in an effort to make the room seem a little bit less dreary. And it gave at least him something to do during the silence.
Three years.
It seems like a long time, yet at the same time not. To the battered people of Earth, it passed by in flash. Despite the Empress’ best efforts and help of the prototypes of non-military tech that utilized the Aldnoah, reconstruction was still on a crawling start. There had been just too much lost and too many people forever gone. In a sense, the biggest contributing factor to the continued peace was the broken spirits of both sides. Terrans were too busy with keeping their own lives together and Versians were...Well, he couldn’t say much on them without proper study.
It hadn’t passed by him that the components for another war to start were all around, ready for a spark. But as a mere soldier, he didn’t have the authority or will to do anything about them. Not that he was sure he could have, even if he tried. People’s hearts were complicated things and Inaho knew that he lacked the qualities to move them. That was the forte of a certain lifeless man in front of him.
Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.
A lone Terran man in a den of wolves who eventually donned the fur of one as well. Inaho was honestly impressed of how the boy of then had managed to rise the ranks against all odds to eventually hold the position of the highest power other than royalty. He had his naysayers, but from what Inaho found from Versian news sites during his investigations of the time, he was the people’s man. His struggle touched people’s hearts, the world through his eyes showed people dreams, his words crafted a gentle haven for the suffering, and his valiant form in battle invigorated both those who chose to follow him and those who did not yet wished they had.
However, if you looked at it from a different angle, more specifically from a Terrans’ view, he was nothing more than a sinister criminal. He pathetically licked the feet of monsters, he deceived the public, he spoke of war and destruction, and that damned white devil would be the last thing you see before the death of your comrades, friends, family, and eventually yourself.
It had been easy for Earth to swallow the lie about Slaine being the mastermind of the war, but that wasn’t the case for Vers. Protests had immediately popped up in the home planet after the Princess had declared herself Empress and for the end of the war.
It was to be expected. Vers was inches away from victory, only for their own Princess, who had been a warmonger for two long years, to call if off. Years of fighting and millions of lives lost for another stalemate. Soldiers shed bitter tears that they devoted their soul and body for the sake of Vers and the beautiful dream that Count Troyard sang of, only for everything they had done to end up fruitless.
It’s a hollow feeling to know that what you have done was pointless. Inaho personally knew the feeling. Even if your goals were eventually realized, just knowing that your hands had no part in it is enough to break someone.
And Vers did break. Just like the man in front of Inaho now did.
Slaine Troyard.
Inaho wanted to ask what was going on his head during it all. What was going through his mind as he stepped over the ideals he himself had planted in the Empress’ head? How did it feel to have the impoverished rally him as their savior when everything he did was for one person who would never acknowledge him?
He recalled one of their sessions years ago when Slaine was bitter and enraged yet full of life. After telling him that it was the Empress’ wish to have him alive, the blonde burst into tears and sobbed away what Inaho felt was the last bit of his self.
After that, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard no longer existed. What remained was a shell. No longer a carver of hope, no longer a bringer of destruction. Just a nameless man in a cage, the only thing keeping him tied down being a flimsy request.
And that disappointed Inaho, an emotion which startled him. It disappointed him that the one constant obstacle in his life threw in the towel before he could settle anything. He should have defeated him. He was on the winning side. He managed to defeat him and the Tharsis. Yet it felt so empty and that left him feeling a smidge of bitterness.
Just like in chess, the score was still 0-0. He should have been able to brush it off, after all, it was a fight the other side had started, but he found himself unable to. An itch that wouldn’t go away.
It was irritating. This now stale feud was irritating. The fact that he kept coming was irritating. The fact that he couldn’t reason why he kept coming was irritating. The fact that their short 30 minute sessions were spent in complete silence with the only breaks in it being Inaho’s questions that would never receive an answer was irritating. Slaine’s lifeless look was irritating. The dissonance between the “peace” of outside and the “peace” of this cell was irritating. It was all irritating.
Unable to shake off this feeling of disgust, Inaho suddenly stood up from his seat. He walked over to the other side of the table and roughly took the man’s chin to force the pale man to look at him. Red eyes, the color of Vers’ hazardous surface, met brilliant blue, the color of the vast ocean.
But those eyes still displayed nothing. The only thing Inaho could find was his own reflection and what he saw shook him.
Who was this? The Inaho displayed in those aquamarine eyes looked disheveled, emotional, and hateful. To the people around him, he would look the same as always, but Inaho knew. This was not the Kaizuka Inaho they knew and he hated that.
He’s reminded of the Empress when she was still just a Princess. She was surprisingly normal for royalty, laughing with kids her age and pouting from embarrassment. For the majority of the time he spent with her, she was Seylum. But whenever she spoke of the dreams of cooperation that she inherited from the lone Terran on Mars and of the boy himself, she was no longer Seylum. She was Asseylum Vers Allusia—heir to Vers and holder of a greater power and the responsibility that came with it. He transformed her from Seylum to Asseylum. He was at the center of what caused her to throw away Seylum and choose to be Asseylum Vers Allusia, Empress of Mars, forever.
That was probably the true reason he refused to refer to her as Seylum now. She was not Seylum any longer. Slaine Saazbaum Troyard had changed her. He had left a mark that would never fade, something that Inaho had failed to do.
He thinks back on the people of Vers again. It had been assumed that they would still be bigoted racists, especially after blaming everything on a Terran boy, but to the surprise of many on Earth, it had not been that way. While the nobles were a lost cause, many of the middle and lower classes kept an open mind in their dealings with the Terrans. There was no denying that there were still grudges left, but they were not from racial prejudices, just scars from war. They would never admit what caused such a change, but it was clear what did.
Even that Eddelrittuo who had always snapped at him was like a different person. Though she had said her farewells to him and the others members of the Deucalion after that one time they happened to meet, months after the war. Farewells that implied they would never meet or speak to each other again. He could speculate the reason why.
Slaine Troyard had the power to move people’s hearts. His words carefully grasped a hold of it before changing who you were from the inside out, stealing away parts of you while bestowing treasures you couldn’t let go of despite the prickling pain they inflict.
And now Inaho found himself being changed by the former Count. Slowly, so slowly in that wordless void that he hadn’t even realized it until now.
He felt the corners of his mouth twitching.
So you do have some fight left in you after all, Bat.
Perfect, I’ll take you up on that challenge. I’ve already given you a little bit of a handicap.
He raises Slaine’s chin even more and brings their faces close.
“Hey, Troyard. Let’s play a game.”
The next time Inaho visits was four months later. He had wanted to visit earlier, but work calls and as a member of the military during peace time, he couldn’t afford to take over the reins whenever he felt like it as he did during the war.
He felt incredibly pleased that Slaine is no longer blankly staring at the chessboard in front of him. He was staring right at Inaho with a mixture of bewilderment and resentment.
Inaho looked at his arms and noted with satisfaction that he hasn’t lost weight. The reports read that Slaine had been eating his food ever since Inaho told him about the Empress’ wish, but he always threw up soon after. He noted that after the last session, the amount of times he threw up his food had lessened. All he needed was a goal, Inaho assumes.
He was about to speak when the blonde opened his mouth first, to his surprise.
“It’s been quite a while.”
“...I was on official duty.” He responded lamely. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting Slaine to say after what happened last session, but it certainly wasn’t small talk.
“I thought that maybe you forgot.” Inaho swore he could have seen the ghost of a smirk on the other’s face, but it was gone after a blink of his sole eye.
“You sound like you missed my visits.” He decided to try baiting him into reacting.
“You’d find that when you stare at the same thing for days on end, even a face such as yours is a breath of fresh air. Not that I’ve had any in the past couple years.” There was the smirk. Inaho hadn’t been imagining things.
He couldn’t believe his eye. Slaine was being responsive. Hell, he was being snarky. He had been expecting improvements in their interactions, but this was way above expectations.
“Hm? So even you can look surprised.” The smirk deepened and Inaho could count the creases in the corners of those aquamarine eyes.
“...You seem to be under the misunderstanding that I am not human. I express emotions just as much as any other person.” But not as much as you do though, he thinks to himself while thinking of the lively expressions he displayed in the rare moments he wasn’t acting like a dead fish.
Slaine snorted and leaned back on the chair. “Yes, yes, and I’m actually female.”
“We’d have to prepare many more non-recyclable necessities. It would call for an increase in budget and change of staff, along with a whole other list of complications. UFE won’t like having to pay more for your incarceration.” He rambled on only to stop when he noticed Slaine ignoring him in favor of twirling his now longer hair. He suddenly felt silly. “...Well, anyway...”
Slaine didn’t let him finish. “I feel like this battle is to your advantage when you’re so...” He looked like he was searching for the perfect word to insult him. “You.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Slaine looked away, clearly embarrassed that he had finished so poorly. He always did manage to trip up at the end.
“I beg to differ though. The one with the advantage is actually you. I’m giving you a handicap.”
“Oh, is that so? Why, thank you ever so much, Kaizuka Inaho! How could I ever hope to win if you don’t go easy on me?” Slaine sarcastically drawled with a dramatic wave of his hand. Inaho noted that he said his family name first and given name second despite being of a presumably Western background. He preferred his name being spoken that way. “Wait...handicap...?”
“Yes, a head start would probably be a better term for it, now that I think about it.” Inaho thought out loud, not noticing Slaine’s look of disbelief.
“..........I was right, despite not being very articulate about it. You’re one-of-a-kind, Inaho. That’s not a compliment, just so you don’t get any funny ideas.” Slaine breathed out while tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
Inaho wanted to ask if he wanted a hair band, but quickly threw away the thought. That was too blatant, especially after they had just been talking about the game. Subtlety was key in this battle.
His train of thought was interrupted by the buzzing coming from his pocket. He took out of smartphone and looked at the message.
“Going so soon?” Slaine asked when Inaho stood up to leave. He could feel those blue eyes accusing him of running away.
“Some of us have things to do other than stare at walls.” He didn’t miss the flash of emotion run through Slaine’s eyes and left satisfied.
The next time Inaho visited was two months later. As soon as he sat down, Slaine perched up on the table.
“Bring me a notebook and pen next time you come.”
“Excuse me?” He was a bit startled. This was the first request from the former Count ever since he screamed for death shortly after his arrival here.
“Notebook. Object with bound paper. Pen. Writing utensil.” Slaine spoke slowly as if talking to a kindergartener.
“I know what they are. I was asking why you wanted them.” Inaho felt a bit put off at the tone Slaine used.
“To write? What else?” Now he looked at him as if he couldn’t speak properly.
“...Is this part of your strategy?” Brushing off his growing irritation, Inaho made a mental note to buy him the girliest diary out there with a pink pen with a fluffy ball on top.
“I guess you can say that.” Slaine didn’t look him in the eye, but he didn’t sense any lies in his words.
“Can’t you ask the guards for them?”
“That paper quality is awful, not to mention that poorly made pen. I honestly don’t know how the UFE operates properly using paper like that. What a poor use of your plentiful resources.”
“So you’re asking me to get you high quality paper and pens? Aren’t you demanding a lot for a prisoner?”
Slaine turned his eyes back to him with a sharp look. “It’s for the game. You’ll do it, right, General Kaizuka?”
Inaho acknowledge he was being baited, but took it anyway. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The next time Inaho visited was a month later.
“I have to question your taste.” Slaine gingerly held up the puffy pink pen.
Inaho had decided against getting the matching sparkly pink diary, but stuck with the idea of a pen with a fluff ball on the end.
“It suits you.” He gave a stock compliment, not bothering to put any effort into making it at least seem sincere.
“That confirms your bad taste. I should have expected this, knowing your stupid orange kat.” He twirled the pen around his fingers.
“It had its purposes.”
“Like painting a huge target on your back? Weren’t Terran kats painted that dull color to blend in with their surroundings? How did yours even fly with your superiors?”
“UFE didn’t possess the time or resources to check if a soldier was giving their kat a personal paint job.”
“That’s insubordination.”
“I was given various freedoms for my accomplishments.”
Slaine rolled his eyes and went back to flipping through the empty journal. It was a nice one with a hardcover and smooth pages inside. It had been a gift from a grateful businessman who had heard of Inaho’s feats in battle. He felt a little bit of satisfaction knowing that Slaine would have to use a journal given to Inaho as repayment for killing Martians and beating the former Count.
“What are you going to record in it?” He asked out of simple curiosity though he already had a good idea.
“...It’ll be like a memoir.” Slaine eyes looked far off for a moment before returning to Inaho with that small smirk on his face again. “You can publish it after a couple years as the ‘Biography of the late Count Troyard’ if you ever find yourself low on money. I’m sure people would flock to buy a book full of dirt on the biggest criminal in history.”
So he was correct in his speculation that Slaine was going to write about his life in the notebook. It had been the right decision to give him the notebook with the most pages out of his collection of gifted notebooks. Why people thought to give him notebooks when he hardly ever uses them, preferring his tablet much more, was a mystery to him.
“I wouldn’t do such a thing.” There was also no way the UFE would let him either. It would bring up more questions than was good for the sake of anyone. Any information that could possibly paint the former Count in a sympathetic light was to be destroyed.
Inaho highly doubted the man would portray himself as a pitiful man wronged by the world. He was far more self-hating than one would expect after seeing his flashy speeches.
Slaine was no longer paying any attention to him though. His slender fingers traced along the engraved decorations on the cover. He was in his own world and Inaho, shut out of it, could only stand up to walk away.
The satisfaction he felt earlier was gone.
The next time Inaho visited was two months later.
Slaine was back to his unresponsive self so the visit went much like they did before Inaho proposed this game. Lifeless and silent.
Inaho wanted to badger him why he had reverted back to this, but he already had a faint suspicion.
He looked at the notebook that was brought along with Slaine to the glass room. The cover made it difficult to tell whether it had been used or not, but he was sure it had.
He could easily picture Slaine hunched over the journal with the fluffy pen. Pouring his heart into each beautiful word that had so easily enslaved others. He found himself wanting to see them and soon his hand was reaching out to the notebook.
Slaine immediately perked up and snatched it away, burying it into his chest. His face was pale and Inaho noticed he was slightly trembling. Ignoring the blonde’s signs of discomfort, he walked over to Slaine and reached out for it again only for Slaine to shake his head furiously while holding it even tighter.
“I’ll give it back after. I just want to check what’s inside.” He said in as gentle of a voice as he could muster. A ploy to get him to give it up.
When he saw that Slaine wasn’t going to budge, he changed tactics. “This is a matter of security, Troyard. You might be planning another assassination, maybe mine.” Slaine flinched at that. “Give me the notebook now and if it’s clear, I’ll give it back and there won’t be any further trouble.”
Slaine raised his head to glare at Inaho, but he could tell.
That was fear in those aquamarine eyes.
Inaho felt himself smile and he turned around to walk back to his seat.
“.........Are you not going to check it?” Slaine cautiously asked while still clutching the notebook.
“I’ve made the judgment that it’s not needed.”
Slaine’s eyes narrowed. He was angry that Inaho had pulled off a little show of playing with his emotions so easily.
Inaho crossed his fingers in his lap and leaned back while never straying his eye from Slaine.
“So? Let’s hear about the life of former Count, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.”
The following visits were spent on Slaine slowly talking about the various people throughout his life. The subject never touched upon the Empress.
Inaho heard the blonde talk about a random Martian soldier who had told him that he was their comrade, a Count who did everything possible to bring shame to him in public, the first member of the Stygis Squad who had treated him with respect, squads who purposefully let him dive into enemy kats alone, a young female Count who couldn’t stop herself from ruffling his hair, bitter soldiers who beat him places clothes would cover, a dying soldier who pleaded to him with tears in his eyes to bring glory to Vers, cooks who would slip poison in his food, a soldier who was also a father telling him how his son won’t stop roleplaying as him, knights throwing away documents when they learned he had written them, a servant girl shoving an extra portion of dessert on him before running away, people who looked upon him with scorn.
Even when talking about those who had mistreated him, Slaine looked peaceful, almost as if the memory was just as precious as the good memories.
“Do you not resent those who abused you?” Inaho found himself asking one day. He had previously avoided the subject in order not to bring up any unnecessary trauma, but seeing as how Slaine himself talked about it so easily, he figured it was okay.
“At the time, of course I did. There were times when I wanted to just quit and let the Martians fight their own war.”
“And why didn’t you? Because of the Empress?”
Slaine hesitated. “......You could say that.” And elaborated no further.
Each time Slaine spoke of another person, he would always utter the same words.
“I’m sorry.”
The talks were no longer conversations between Inaho and Slaine. They were his monologues. His offering up to those who he can no longer meet and a plea for forgiveness. Forgiveness that would never come as long as he stayed in this cage.
It was only when he finally got to talking about his most loyal servant, Harklight, and the fake Princess, Lemrina, did his composure start to fall. He recalled every conversation and apologized each time.
“I was happy too. I couldn’t say it to them, but I loved them too.” He gasped out between labored breaths. “If it’s come to this, I should have said it! I should have expressed my gratitude every chance I had. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have been enough and yet I...!”
His eyes glazed over and he looked at Inaho. He was looking at him, but he wasn’t really seeing him. He was seeing the illusion of Harklight and Lemrina.
Slaine desperately grasped at his pendants and attempted to steady his breathing, but he was too worked up. Guilt was plaguing him. Regret was killing him.
He never really did know what happiness was, but after spending so much time here, Slaine had a faint idea that the time he spent on the Moonbase with Harklight, Lemrina, and even Saazbaum were the closest thing he had. He gave and they gave back. It was a different dynamic from what he had with the former Princess.
“You stayed with me till the end and yet I’m still here. I’m here...I’m right here. I'll always...be here.” Slaine’s breathing became even rougher and before Inaho could react, Slaine had collapsed.
Inaho rushed over and propped up Slaine so his head wasn’t on the hard floor anymore. His consciousness was hazy and he kept murmuring apologies in a fevered frenzy.
He felt something grab his hand and he soon realized it was Slaine’s own. It was soft and warm. Unable to deal well with the cold, Inaho always felt too cool for his liking, but he felt his whole body warm up from the heat radiating from their joined hands.
“Hark...light...” Slaine whispered out and Inaho felt an unexplainable dark feeling build up in his stomach.
“Time’s up, Troyard. You should rest.”
He didn’t want to hear any more of this. He didn’t want to hear apologies directed at those who would never hear them. He was right in front of him, yet Slaine refused to look at the black hole in his left eye. It was a sin that Slaine had yet to tread on just like he refused to talk about the betrayals he committed against the Empress.
He still hadn’t been swayed and victory was approaching. Slaine’s strategy had only been causing his own downfall.
I see, so his biggest enemy is himself.
And that’s why Inaho never felt satisfied in Slaine’s defeats. He never was the one to give the finishing blow, but that was about to change with this match. As he walked outside of the glass room to alert the guards of Slaine’s health, he swore that this would be a battle he would win of his own power. He would seize victory and finally put an end to this. It would be goodbye to Slaine Troyard.
He looked up at his reflection in the mirror of Yuki’s car and furrowed his brow at what he saw.
What a pathetic look you have there, unbefitting of the revered hero of Earth. Resentment, hate, and jealousy were all mixed together to create something vile. Yuki failed to mention anything so it was still only to the level Inaho himself could notice and that didn’t sit well with him.
He hates this and above all else, he hates Slaine Troyard.
He recalls Slaine’s crying face and realizes that even as Slaine shed tears, he was somehow beautiful.