Chapter Text
It’s been months since Gilgamesh pulled her away from the Moon Cell core only to take her to another system to travel across the stars, and Hakuno could admit—albeit only to herself—that conviviality with Gilgamesh was actually… nice.
More than just nice, in fact.
Hakuno had expected her overbearing Servant to just make her go insane within the first few days or so, but as much as Gilgamesh could be a complete ass for the most part, figuring how the share a life with each other has been a lot more fun than anything else (if slightly exasperating at times, but Hakuno could deal with that).
When Gilgamesh finally made the switch from calling her ‘mongrel’ to simply ‘Hakuno’, Hakuno also started to understand the concept of 'want,' even if she couldn’t yet realize it.
As the months passed and their voyage across the stars progressed, Gilgamesh tried to show her many new things under the guise of 'pleasure training': they were exciting things, for the most part, like taking her out on adventures to explore unknown cities and planets, or teaching her the characters of the languages of the planets they have visited—just a few of them, of course. It would also be easier if he had a manual with which to properly educate her, but he recites language programs and coaches her on alien phonemes either way. It wasn't easy, and Hakuno wasn't exactly the smartest person in the world, but Gil still offered to teach her anyway because he knew she'd rather not have him do all her speaking for her, even if they are now sharing their lives with each other, including their joys as well as their penuries.
They would often work all day together, fixing what needed to be fixed, checking distances and directions, deciphering words and language and speculating about what they would say or do when they reached the next planet—and then, when Hakuno had her fill of careful exploration and endless quizzing on languages, she would often ask him to stay with her in her room for a game of cards or for movie marathons.
Gilgamesh was acutely aware of the peaceful domesticity of it all; a bloody tyrant and a lost digital girl that was once marked for certain death, being content doing household chores and menial tasks inside a ship, with no clear destination in mind. Despite himself, he can’t help but lose himself in it.
Today they sit together in the cockpit. She had been watching the star charts moving above the bridge in wonder while Gilgamesh’s hands were on the control panel. She looks into the pitch-black sky, her eyes shining as she takes in the scenery they were viewing, which effectively had no end. The galactic magnificence proceeded almost infinitely in every direction, the view unmarred by the adjacent presence of a planet or moon.
Magnificence, and a cold indifferent emptiness that was held at bay only by the ship’s walls.
Hakuno frowns at the readings, clearly not understanding them. “This is unfair. Why does there have to be only one machine? I want to drive, too.”
Gilgamesh smirked, far too amused with his Master’s obstinate personality to mind the disrespect. “Ah. Too bad. You had your chance back when I inquired if you wished to join me in the navigations of the ship, and you refused.”
Still grumbling but clearly not willing to let him win by staying behind, Hakuno fiddles with the controls to no avail, making him chuckle.
“Patience is virtue, is that not the saying?” He tells her with an amused snort, gently pulling her away from the panel. “You are trying to compete against the likes of me—a radiant king not only in his prime, but who possesses knowledge far greater than your limited comprehension can hope to grasp, and who has the laws of the universe at his side; but fear not, you shall learn in due time.”
Hakuno gives him a curious look then, one that is full of barely disguised excitement at the prospect of learning something new. “Does that mean you will really one day teach me how to operate Vimana?”
“You have a long, long time to practice, and I am quite a stern teacher; but it may be possible.”
Hakuno snorts under her breath, but smiles at him, either way. “Are you implying by any chance that you can be something other than a stern teacher?”
Gilgamesh’s smirk grows wider. “Oh, I can be quite the gentle teacher depending upon the subject, something I reckon you shall also learn in due time.”
Hakuno shoots him a dubious look. A part of her wanted to ask him which subjects would warrant his gentleness, if Gilgamesh had any of that left in him, but in the end she chooses not to say anything, and instead focuses her gaze back on the charts.
She can’t read the star charts here—not yet, at least—and she is unable to operate most of the equipment. However, that doesn’t stop Hakuno from trying to understand Vimana’s controls through trial and error and make her own decisions as to which places she wanted them to visit first.
However, today’s detour would not be one of pleasure, as it seems.
They had hit a storm on their way to a nearby trader planet, a highly charged shockwave that their long-range sensors could not detect in time because of the dense presence of other particulate and radiant matter in their immediate spatial vicinity. As it was not detected until it was right on top of them, unfortunately, it struck before the collectors could be furled and thus they absorbed the full brunt of it.
Now Vimana needed repairing.
“Well, in any case, and considering that what hit us essentially came out of nowhere,” Hakuno started to say, her still glued to the holographic screen before her, “we’re in better shape than we might have been. The ship’s still holding at ninety-three percent, although we still have a number of secondary systems offline, all of which are still salvageable. I think we can still keep going until we reach our final destination.”
“‘Salvageable’?” Of course, his sarcasm could not be repressed for long. “No, none of that. There must be a limit to how reckless you can be, Master. I will not command a ship that could potentially fall apart at any moment’s notice, regardless of however minuscule the probabilities for that may be. Let’s deal with the necessary repairs first,” he replied. “…And then we shall go back to our pleasure trip.”
If Hakuno had a fault that was especially irksome to him, it was her tendency to improvise solutions to problems for which perfectly sensible courses of action already existed. There was absolutely no need whatsoever for them to risk potential collapse when they had so many planets available for landing and so very rich in materials they could collect for repairing Vimana’s systems.
As he started to fumble with the control panel, Hakuno stared at him with something akin to worry.
“That’s… what is that, what the hell are you doing now, Gil?”
“Plotting a course change, naturally,” Gilgamesh touched the control pad of the ship, and the surrounding star systems are thrown into sharp relief. “There is a planetoid we can land on. A trader’s world. We will make a short stop there, trade materials to repair Vimana, and perhaps settle for a few days until I deem we are ready to go. Deep space is the last place to rely on ‘luck.’ I’d rather we were more prepared and capable, than ‘lucky.’”
Her disbelief makes her little frown turn harder. She says, “How can you possibly know so much about this? I mean, it kind of makes sense for you to know so many things about Earth what with you being a legendary human hero, but we’re not connected to Earth anymore; doesn’t that mean you’ve lost your powers? Nobody knows you’re a hero of legend here. You're just as much of an NPC here as I am.”
Gilgamesh snorts, “Don’t be ridiculous—my little trips affect nothing; the Throne of Heroes transcends time and space, so thus, by proxy, I transcend time and space as well. And besides…” he adds, and his smile is smug and amused, “…Everything that was in the Moon Cell’s database is now within my gates. I am not completely without resources--but ah, there is no need to thank me, Master; the pleasure was all mine.”
Hakuno gave him a look, probably not quite trusting that he might actually have stolen data from the Moon Cell pertaining to this certain star system for his own benefit. “And what if it’s a water world?” she had countered playfully. “Or what if it’s so old that the mountains are all worn down and it’s as flat as the Great Plains and there’s absolutely nothing in sight, though? No civilization, no city whatsoever?”
It occurred to him that perhaps he was now getting acquainted with a side of his Master that he wasn’t yet aware it existed. For a person modeled after something that wasn’t supposed to have emotion, Hakuno is surprisingly good at playing coy.
For a moment, Gilgamesh was reminded of a certain other person that was just as cherished, but he quickly pushed that fond memory away and back to the deepest crevices of his mind.
“That won’t be the case. Of that, you can be certain.”
She was still doubtful, but still conceded.
“Well… if you’re so sure of that…” then she turns to look at the screen, “…I guess we have no other choice but to make a short stop here. Who knows? Maybe when we get there and I have a chance to breathe unrecycled air again and eat something besides rehydrated food, I’ll take the time to educate myself in the very noble art of sunbathing. Maybe—just maybe—I’ll do it.”
As he stares at her, Gilgamesh knows Hakuno has finally just begun to grow independent—perhaps, even, to defy her programming, at least where her personal needs are concerned, even if there were times when Hakuno would still deny herself because she thinks good times won’t last. It irks him, to say the least, but progress is still progress.
“Of course you will do it. It was just as I told you—in this new universe, you may be as greedy as you wish, Hakuno.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken so fast.
The world they landed on has no name—at least not one he could successfully translate into human language, as it was made only of a series of numbers and letters in the Moon Cell’s database. Of course, those that do exist here are not of human manufacture, though they do resemble them in many other ways.
They communicated with the local habitants of the planet with gestures and nods; Hakuno told him she was working with building a translating device—some sort of codecast that could translate the languages to be found in this star system into their own—well, one they could both understand, at least—by making use of the Moon Cell’s stolen data, but for now it was still too unreliable to be put into proper use.
What was more, the creatures inhabiting this land were made of various sorts of limbs—their matter is in flux, forming and reforming into suggestive shapes.
They find one of them as soon as they land Vimana on their dock—perhaps a sentinel, or some security guard of some sort; interplanetary travelling is not an uncommon occurrence in this certain star system, and as such many of these alien civilizations have built their own unique mechanisms to keep control of the many lifeforms that come to make business or for a visit.
It speaks in its language, and Gilgamesh replies in his own until it starts to understand.
The lifeform says something incomprehensible and its shape changes one last time. Across from them, a humanoid male looks at him with red, human eyes and a face much too resembling his own.
Gilgamesh hears the soft sound Hakuno makes behind him, surprised and confused alike. It is strangely amusing, given that for the last few sixty-six earth days her reactions have been so predictable—his own fault, he supposes, but he did tell her he was aiming for a place that closely resembled Earth, and he delivered by providing her with exactly just that. She was quite dazzled back then in the city of golden lights, as he knew she would be, but she had yet to encounter lifeforms with shapes differing that of a human.
Gilgamesh pushes forward, a magnanimous smile on his face. “Negotiate us a trade. Ship and supplies.”
The negotiator chirped and clicked their assent in response, and led them to what Gilgamesh assume was this planet’s equivalent of a central marketplace, which was filled impressively. Everywhere different stands, carts, tents and a few buildings could be seen, selling everything from clothing to jewelry to food to weapons to artifacts of very questionable legality. And everywhere you looked were lifeforms in all different shapes and sizes. Some of them looked more-or-less human-shaped, while others could only be judged to be living and sentient beings by the fact that they were moving around and interacting with others. However, the one thing they all had in common was that there was not a single Human to be found.
"We're getting' a lot of weird looks," Hakuno muttered as they both made their way through the commercial and trading sector of the city.
"You mean you're getting a lot of weird looks," Gilgamesh retorted, putting up airs even though he was a level-one nobody just like Hakuno. "Unlike a certain plain mongrel in unsuspecting ugly garbs, some of us actually look like we belong."
Hakuno snorts. He can’t help but find her shows of defiance certainly endearing.
“Oh, really? Who's the bigger weirdo here?" Hakuno shot back—she’s smiling, he knows she is, but she tries to mask it under a small frown that makes her little smile seem sarcastic. "The digital human with the ugly plain clothes, or the red-eyed, seven-foot guy walking around in shining, gaudy golden armor that weights more than he does?”
Well, this time, his Master may have a point.
Some parts for the Vimana, they could find it in the market place, and the negotiator led them to some few stands that sold sleep pods and some medical bay equipment, which was most probably the closest to an acceptable human habitat the thing could find for them. Gilgamesh did have no need for those, and for the remainder of the day he and Hakuno busied themselves with trading and haggling for any kind of scraps and parts they could use to repair Vimana.
But then, as the sun started to set, the need to seek shelter surfaced—and with it, the reason behind Gilgamesh’s current headache.
A creature, along with their friends, it seemed, had taken control of a wooden platform with a flagpole stuck through it near the center of the market. It was hard to determine their age given how inhuman they were in physical appearance, but considering their height and their juvenile antics, Gilgamesh assumes they must be around fifteen to seventeen years old according to human standards. They had been standing on the platform and had been loudly announcing a bounty since early that morning, while said friends were in the crowd, trying to distribute some sort of fliers.
Unfortunately enough, Hakuno was intercepted by said crowd of misfitting teens, and given how prone her heart was to be moved by tragedy, naturally Hakuno made him take a detour to listen to these people’s tale.
As it seemed, one of their friends had gone missing early this morning while they were trying to scavenge for resources. They had hoped the adults of the village would find them in time, but they were unsuccessful, and because the hour was late and predators tended to come outside at dusk, no one truly wanted to offer their help.
This was certainly a deviation from these people usual behavior, as they usually sticked in pairs and they hardly ever separated from one another—not even by an inch. According to the Moon Cell’s database, these things tended to keep away from other settlements as well.
Of course, he was well aware of Hakuno’s dedication to saving those in need—he’s seen it happening far too many times; there was a fierceness to her, but deep down she is genuinely kind and tender, and far too thoughtful to allow hate and anger to fill her with bitterness. He knows this well.
However, he never realized just how deep her love for the helpless went. That is, not until he sees her willingly run into acute peril by agreeing to retrieve said lost kid, without remorse and without second thoughts. Worse yet, in spite of the fact that the number of humans they interacted with on a semi-regular basis could be counted on one hand—with two fingers, to be more precise—said group of alien teens still trusted his foolishly kind Master to go retrieve their friend, and being the forgiving fool that she was, of course Hakuno accepted going into the outskirts of some alien city to go search for them.
It was also their luck that a vicious storm was approaching.
Gilgamesh went after her immediately as soon as she stormed into the back streets, following the locals’ very vague directions, but he didn’t think it through enough—neither of them, actually. Gilgamesh acted on instinct just as much as Hakuno did; Hakuno wanted to save a person she’s not even met yet, and all he knew was that he had get to Hakuno, the one person in the Moon Cell who has shown him backbone, something worth gazing upon.
Hakuno really was a bit of an idiot, but he will excuse her. She is human, and humans tend to let their passions rule them. Besides, letting a child die or spend a night in the cold was hardly something he wanted to have in his conscience. Harsh circumstances on adults were one thing, but children should be spared such horrible fates.
He does remember complaining the whole way there, and even Hakuno hadn’t been pleased about the fact they were heading to a thunderstorm, but she was less enthusiastic about leaving a child to fare alone against the forces of nature, and thus here they were.
Of course, he ends up just as trapped in the rainstorm as she is.
At the very least, they managed to find said missing fool before they could get sold to some interspatial traffic ring, and gave their kidnappers the single greatest thrashing that infant creature must have ever seen in their life.
It’s unfortunate, then, that all Gilgamesh was given in return for saving a life was a few golden coins from a very distraught but also very grateful mother, because now he’s trapped in this godforsaken planet with his fool of a Master, who was currently frozen to death—inside a ship in desperate need of repairs in a planet that’s too many miles away from the nearest airlift site to risk taking off and leaving; not with Vimana being as damaged as it was, that is. Besides, there was no way they’d make it back to the next breathable atmosphere before the storm came, and with Vimana only half-operative he didn’t want to risk trying to take off. Hitting turbulences was one thing, but trying to hit atmosphere when a storm was raging was a very bad idea.
Today it was a day of discoveries it seemed, for Gilgamesh was finding out that digital humans could indeed still get sick—at some level.
He wonders if Hakuno was now going through the digital equivalent of hypothermia. He doesn’t feel the cold nearly as much as he supposed she does, digital body or not, but even then that shouldn’t be possible. Her body wasn’t immune to wounds, and she could bleed like any other creature could—he could well testify to that. However, pathogens like flus or common colds are another thing altogether. With Hakuno’s body being formed from the same spiriton particles that make up his own, this shouldn’t be under the realm of possible.
He reaches out to her when he notices her falling off behind him—grabs her gently, holding her, and notices that Hakuno is trembling so much it’s as though she will fall apart at the seams—and again, he feels that rush of respect he was overcome with when he found her within his heart, almost completely eaten by the black corruption of deletion.
…Only it isn't respect, not anymore.
It's something… something else, another feeling added to the mix, a strange kind of want. He cannot place it, but there is a churning in his belly that comes with it, almost like a … stabbing feeling, only that it tingles. He has no idea what it is. He supposes it must be a mere rush of gratitude—gratitude that she is… safe. He supposes this, too, is another product of his newfound respect for his Master; mongrels like her don’t grow on trees, so should he lose her, not only would he lose what connects him to this universe and thus return to the Throne of Heroes, but he would also lose the one and only Hakuno that exists in this universe.
On this particular planet, night fell much more quickly. He managed to reach the ship-port holding Hakuno’s unconscious form in his arms (at one point Hakuno grew too limp to remain upright on her own, let alone walk under her own power, so for lack of better options, Gilgamesh scooped her up and bundled her against his chest, hissing at how cold she was) just before the sun set—it was their luck that they had enough time of daylight to reach their destination safely, without running into any unfortunate encounters with the local fauna or with bounty hunters.
With a muffled curse, he gently put Hakuno down on the bed and then started stripping her, not pausing to dwell, for his brain was too full of unhelpful things—but what he was certain of was the fact that she needed to get warm and fast, so as soon as he made it back to Vimana and the doors to the inside of the ship closed behind him with a hiss, he set himself to work and didn’t pause to think; she could not stay in these soaked clothes, or else she would die.
Once he was finished with discarding her wet, ruined clothes, he snagged a blanket off the bed and wrapped her up in it—the fact that his Master hadn’t stirred or protested about him undressing her was a little concerning, since she was always so timid, but he tried not to dwell on it. He considered to put her into warm water for a moment, but quickly dismissed the idea—putting a hypothermia victim in hot water could damage her heart, so out of the question it was.
Hakuno made a mumbling noise as she was completely cocooned in a flurry of blankets and pillows, which brought Gilgamesh back from his musings. He stared at his Master, begging her silently to wake up to no avail. At the very least, her face had more color in it, so he took the win.
But he couldn’t sit still for long. He was far too restless to stay idle, so he heaved himself to his feet.
“Do not die,” he instructed his Master firmly, which she wasn’t going to, Gilgamesh had in good authority that his Master was much more resilient than what she looked like; a common cold, or even hypothermia, had nothing against her.
The blond stopped pacing and summoned his vault, then started digging around for something to help his Master stop shivering. Perhaps a simple warm beverage would have sufficed, but then he was almost certain he had something within his gates that could provide them with a better remedy.
“Gil?”
The soft croak from behind his back felt like a bolt of lightning to Gilgamesh’s spine. He froze for a moment, then dashed back to Hakuno, sitting by the edge of the bed to hurriedly check her over, reaching for her throat to check her pulse. “Abou time. Feeling more lucid now?”
Hakuno mumbled grumpily and screwed up her face. Gilgamesh had to suppress a scowl as he strongly suspected he would have been swatted if her arms weren’t stuck inside the bundle of blankets. “M’fine,” she said blearily, looking around. “W’t ‘appened?”
“You are frozen half to death,” Gilgamesh explained, far too conversationally for the situation at hand—but he couldn’t afford to show her distress. It was far too unbecoming; far too vulnerable. “You accepted to enlist yourself for a search mission and a vicious rainstorm fell upon us. Suffice to say, your digital body is not made to withstand such cold temperatures.” As the memory of why they were in this situation came to him, Gilgamesh pinned her with a glare. “Your fault entirely, by the way.”
When Gilgamesh looked down at her, however, he saw Hakuno’s eyes were getting closed again. She was slipping under.
He could not allow that. Not yet.
“Halt. Stay awake for a moment,” Gilgamesh demanded. He made a motion with his fingers, and a goblet came from within one of his gates. He scooped the scalding hot glass, bringing it swiftly back to her. It’s not tea, nor was it wine—not exactly; it’s a potion that wards against frostbite, and while it was already too late for that, it will still warm her up. “Drink. To warm up.”
“But m’plenny fine…” she complained, but her eyes shimmer, her chest heaves like she’s running fever and Gilgamesh would have none of it—if she wasn’t going to drink it by her own volition, then he would make her drink it himself.
With his mind settled, Gilgamesh forced her chin up and put the rim of the goblet to her lips—which was the only warning she got before her lips were forced apart and liquid started pouring into her mouth and down her throat.
Gilgamesh managed to coax about half of the warm liquid into her before she sagged against his shoulder.
When minutes passed and Hakuno said nothing to calm his nerves, Gilgamesh touched her face again, although instead of attempting to rouse her up, he just let his palm linger against her skin. “Master…”
After a painfully long moment, her eyes fluttered open again. They were distant, her eyelids heavy; she wasn’t fully conscious. She shifted beneath her blankets, and then her hand appeared and grasped his wrist weakly.
“…Still cold,” she croaked, and Gilgamesh winced, watching as Hakuno seemed to lose the last burst of energy she had in her and slumped over once more.
“I know,” he murmured, even when he knew Hakuno wasn’t lucid enough to listen to him and understand.
Her eyes closed again with a soft sigh. He placed his free hand atop hers, holding it between both of his. Her skin quickly warmed, cradled between his own.
Gilgamesh went still. He looked at her. Her face was peaceful but he could still detect a faint tremble in her fingers.
Should he…?
In the best-case scenario, it would help her. In the worst, it wouldn’t, and she might be angry at him once she waked up. Thinking of it like that, he quickly made up his mind. Hakuno was timid, but she was also pragmatic; he could almost guarantee that fool that she was, she would be at least a little annoyed with him, but with her health in question, she would understand. He also liked to think she trusted him enough not to doubt his intentions.
With a sigh, and with nothing else to do, Gilgamesh grabbed a blanket of his own and settled right next to Hakuno, wedging his way next to the woman amid the bundle of covers. Pressing his chest to her back, he intentionally put Hakuno between him and the covers, intending to trap her between two sources of warmth, which would ensure that at the very least, she wouldn’t get worse—and, well, if he found himself enjoying being flush with his Master’s body through the thin layer of the covers, then that was his prerogative.
Too bad it is not under better circumstances…
“Do not succumb to unconsciousness,” he ordered once again, staring down at his unconscious Master for a long moment, not knowing what else to do. “I have worked hard to keep you alive. It would be selfish of you to die now.”
But then, if Hakuno were to succumb to that void called ‘death’, it would not be selfish—it would be his fault, like so many other things.