Chapter Text
Flynn knew he was going to die.
He slowly breathed in, katana held tight in his fingers as he stared up at the demon horde that had surrounded him. They were on the edges of Kinshi Park, a cluttering of low leveled food demons--but in numbers, they had gathered enough to bring down his own demon allies.
And now he stood alone, knowing he would die to a thousand cuts.
This challenge quest had seemed like it would be easy, just cutting down the demon population that had gotten worse recently. Across all of Tokyo, the demons' number had increased, although no one aside from Flynn knew why.
Flynn gritted his teeth grimly. The opening of the Expanse had many slow-moving effects. These demons gathering and going berserk here was only one of them. He tried to step in where he could, especially near the underground cities—and Kinshicho was so close.
He dodged backwards, avoiding the blunt teeth of a Katakirauwa, lashing out with his sword to split it in two. But, even as its body fell, two more of its like took its place, pushing forward. The circle Flynn stood inside was getting smaller by the second, for as many as he cut down, there were still more in the horde. His movements were getting sluggish—one of them had hit him with his current weakness, his arm that wore the Gauntlet hanging down awkwardly, unable to bend and bleeding.
Flynn knew he was going to die. An ignoble death at the hands of demons far from his match. He closed his eyes, lowering his sword. He would let it come, accept it. Yet another bribe to Charon added to the list.
The demons screeched in glee, and he could hear their claws scraping on the pavement as they surged forward—
“Get away from him!” a voice shouted, a young voice, and Flynn’s heart froze in fear.
He could die—dying was nothing to him. He had the funds for it. He could not—could not accept anyone else dying. His eyes flew open, his sword raising—but the demons had already reached him, cutting into his legs, and he collapsed, watching in horror as a small boy in green rushed towards the horde.
Nanashi—he remembered him, meeting him briefly as he spoke to Hunters in the Association. An apprentice—powerless. He didn’t even have his own phone, no demons, he couldn’t handle a horde.
“Run!” Flynn called out desperately, his voice cracking.
One of the demons slammed into his head, and everything went black.
He expected to die, to open his eyes to the familiar banks of the River Styx. But—it was Kinshi Park which greeted him, dead grass moving slowly in the wind. He hurt, his arm aching and the scratches all over his body stinging. It almost would’ve been easier to die.
He started to sit up in a panic, but a firm hand pushed him back down. Nanashi knelt beside him, a small first aid kit opened on his lap. He was trying to wrap Flynn’s arm, to staunch the most serious bleeding.
“Don’t move,” Nanashi said quietly, gently, “You’re safe—the demons won’t be attacking here for the rest of the day.”
Flynn stared at him. The boy had no injuries. He didn’t understand.
Slowly, he asked, “Are you unharmed?”
“What?” Nanashi blinked, his bright green eyes widening as he looked down at him, “Of course. I—I know I couldn’t fight a horde, I didn’t even try.” Flynn winced as Nanashi tugged a little too hard on his arm, “S-Sorry! I don’t have any healing demons—my partner Asahi does, but she’s in town.”
“Demons…?” Flynn asked as he sat up, slowly so Nanashi wouldn’t push him back down. As the boy said, there was no one else around them, not even the usual skittering of demons hiding in the brush. “Last we spoke, you were just an apprentice.”
“Oh—you remember?” Nanashi smiled, “I was a cadet—yeah. I have a phone now, though, and…well, I’m sort of a Hunter now. Just starting,” he admitted, a bit sheepishly.
“And—” Flynn stared at the empty park around them, “How did you—”
“Let’s get you healed before we talk more,” Nanashi interrupted carefully. He seemed nervous, as he leaned back to look at Flynn’s legs. “Do—Do you think you can walk?”
Flynn nodded towards his Gauntlet, “I have a few demons that can heal in my stock. If you—help me get my arm up, I can summon one.”
Nanashi looked at his arm with a grimace, “It’ll—it’ll hurt to move it.”
“I know,” Flynn replied quietly, “Please assist me.”
“Okay.” Nanashi slowly took Flynn’s arm in his hands, pulling it up and forcing it to bend so Flynn could access the Gauntlet. Flynn clenched his teeth, trying not to make a sound, to not make the boy feel guilty. Once he could see the Gauntlet’s screen, it was only a few taps before he summoned Parvati, using her abilities to heal him back to form. Her magic spent, he desummoned her.
Nanashi stood, holding out a hand to him, which Flynn took to stand. “Thank you,” Flynn said, even though he wished the nascent Hunter hadn’t taken the risk, not when death was meaningless to him, “For assisting me.”
“I had to,” Nanashi said softly. He was looking down at the ground, but his eyes flickered warily up to Flynn, “You’re the Liberator—you’re helping all of us, helping Kinshicho—I couldn’t let you meet your end here. Please—follow me, we should get behind the gate, at least, even if it’s safe from those demons, others might come by.”
Flynn followed him, taking the familiar steps back towards Kinshicho. It wasn’t a city Flynn went to as often, especially as it was sort of tucked away. Fairly safe, especially compared to areas like Ikebukuro and Shinjuku. The question burned on his lips, of how Nanashi had gotten the horde to leave, but he was right—they should retreat into a more defended area, and not speak out in the open where demons roamed.
Even if he was the Liberator, he had just gotten a reminder of the dangers of Tokyo.
The Hunter standing guard at the gate let them in, nodding at them as they passed. The area aboveground in Kinshi Park was small, so Nanashi didn’t hesitate to head underground and Flynn followed him. Nanashi glanced back over his shoulder as they entered the city proper, “You—um—do you need a break? Do you want to go to the Association, or, um, you could come to my room. It’s quiet there.”
Flynn blinked—it wasn’t the first time he had been offered the kindness of privacy, but he was always honored by it. Personal spaces were so valuable in Tokyo, to be invited within was a sign of respect and care.
Even though he was fully healed, he still felt exhausted, the fear and desperation of it all still clinging to him. A familiar feeling, but it still… it wasn’t easy. He could use the time to recover. He put on his polite smile, an expression he wore more and more ever since growing closer to the Hunters, “If you don’t mind—”
“I don’t,” Nanashi said quickly, a bit shyly—a reaction Flynn had become used to as Liberator, “It’s the least I can offer.”
“Thank you. You’ve assisted me much.” The boy deserved the thanks. It wasn’t like Flynn could tell him death was meaningless as long as he had the funds.
Flynn followed Nanashi deeper into Kinshicho—unfamiliar with it as they got further from the Association and Terminal. Kinshicho was not a place Flynn explored—it was fairly safe, for the cities, tucked away as it was. It hadn’t been a place he had to go during his search for the Black Samurai, and even after…there wasn’t typically enough going on here to call for the Liberator’s attention.
A part of him wilted at that. He wanted to know as much of Tokyo as possible—these people meant everything to him. He gave up the world he had known for them, and to know less of an entire city made Flynn feel… lacking.
What kind of Liberator didn’t know what he was protecting?
His attention snapped back to the present as Nanashi stopped before a door, and he was surprised when Nanashi pushed it open without knocking. Tokyoites shared rooms, knocking was courtesy—that meant Nanashi knew for certain the others were out. Well—that was a relief then, Flynn didn’t have to worry about anyone but Nanashi.
The room was busily cluttered, as the more lived-in rooms around Tokyo were. Flynn found it charming, a far cry from his life in Kiccigiorgi or the Samurai barracks. There was color here, personality and necessity all mixed together into one human whole.
Nanashi waved a hand at the couch in the center of the room, and Flynn sat himself down on it carefully as Nanashi placed his weapons and other gear on a small piece of furniture on the other side of the room. Self-conscious, Flynn placed the Katana on the ground, behind his heels.
He let himself settle for a moment, he was so used to the alertness he needed to have outside, it always took him a good few moments of purposefully turning those instincts off to be able to actually rest—and rest was just as important as awareness.
And it was now that he could reflect on how much of a horrific disaster that had been. He should not have been so close to death, especially not this close to a settlement. All of Tokyo was dangerous, but it was his carelessness more than the danger that had caught him up. He had not covered for his weakness, or the weaknesses of his demons, hadn’t been defensive enough, hadn’t—
“Do you need anything?” Nanashi’s voice rang out as he dug through a few drawers, “Some bottled water, or, uh, anything your demon didn’t heal?”
“I’m fine,” Flynn said placidly.
Nanashi shouldn’t have seen him fall. No one ever had before. Flynn had always been more careful when he was travelling with others—he had to protect them.
No one had ever seen what Nanashi just had. The Liberator, dying.
As Nanashi came to sit beside him, Flynn turned to look at him, noticing how gaunt the boy was. Small, not unlike many in Tokyo. His cheeks were a bit hollow, and his expression was neutral, but Flynn could see the darkness in his eyes. It was familiar—the look of many, here below. A look that felt wrong to see on someone so young, on a nascent Hunter. It was the struggle between hope and despair, and despair was ever-winning in this endless night.
“Nanashi,” Flynn started, the question burning in his throat, “I am grateful to you, but, I must ask: How did you save me?”
“Oh!” Nanashi blinked, “I forgot you even asked. It wasn’t…well, it wasn’t really anything complicated. I just threw a bunch of Reds at them.” Ice crystalized in Flynn’s mind as Nanashi kept speaking, as if there were nothing significant about what he was saying, “They…the Ashura-kai stopped making them a little after you came down, so I’m not sure if you know much about them.”
Nanashi got up, heading back towards the table where he’d stashed his gear. After only a few bare moments, he returned, holding a single red pill in his hand. “I used most of them up to get rid of that horde, but I still have a few left. Demons will take them instead of attacking.” He sat back down beside Flynn, holding it up, pinched between his index finger and thumb. Flynn stared at it, and at Nanashi's face past it, the red in between the unnatural brilliant green of the boy's eyes.
He saw white hallways and heartless men in black gas masks, chairs with restraints, blood and feces in buckets. Men, women, and children, captured and disregarded—nothing but fuel.
“The face of true evil,” he whispered, barely aware he was even speaking.
Nanashi leaned back, hand lowering, alarmed, “I-I know that giving money to the Ashura-kai isn’t great, but Nikkari—he, w-was my mentor, he said it was probably good to have some on hand, just in case. This was back when we all had to buy from the Ashura-kai to stay alive, b-before the power started to shift in Tokyo.”
“And,” Nanashi let out a breath, settling himself down as he looked at the pill in his hands, “These aren’t being made anymore, the Ashura-kai’s power has been pretty much destroyed. This is just… something I still had. It was the only tool I could think of, to help me handle that horde.”
Flynn didn’t know what to say, and the familiar blanket of silence fell over him. Before he was alone, he always resorted to silence, allowing his companions to speak before he did. He would watch, witness, and while he would not hesitate to act—words were not his forte. Even as Liberator now, the presentation he had to muster—it was different.
Nanashi’s gaze slid over to him, stopping to stare, puzzled. “Flynn—is…is something wrong?”
“That’s—” Flynn bit back. This was something they had never shared, and even though only he and Isabeau were left, neither of them ever— “That pill is dangerous.”
Nanashi tilted his head, frowning, “…Is it addictive? I’m not going to eat it.”
“Don’t,” Flynn snapped, alarmed, “It would turn you into a demon.”
Nanashi’s mouth fell open, “It—what? I heard that rumor, but—that’s true?!”
“Yes,” Flynn swallowed. “I’ve seen it happen, and fought the results. People driven to desperation, who choose to abandon themselves rather than face the present.” I would have helped them, he thought, his tongue dry, We need not fight at all.
Nanashi shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the pill, “I—how is that possible, for something so—so small? I know pacts with demons can turn you demonic, or, or other terrible magics, but—”
Flynn didn’t speak.
The boy’s eyes narrowed as he let the pill roll between his fingers, “You—you know something about these, don’t you? That’s why they bother you so much, while they are, well, normal to the rest of us here. You…” and he spoke carefully, carefully stepping into territory where he knew he may not be welcome, “You’re why they don’t exist anymore, aren’t you? I know you opposed the Ashura-kai a lot, before you even became our Liberator.”
Flynn…hesitated. This was a truth he hadn’t uttered to anyone, not since he’d discovered it. “Yes,” he said finally, raising his chin, “I am why they no longer exist.” Killing Yaso Magatsuhi, Tayama, and decimating even more of the Ashura-kai had put a stop to it. Walter had cut quite a swath through them on his way to the Reactor, but Flynn had cleaned up afterwards, had finished the job with Isabeau in tow. The Ashura-kai were nothing like what they had been before, their power decimated. The underground cities weren’t theirs anymore—they were independent, protected by Hunters.
“They…suffice it to say, how the Reds were created is…something that had to be halted.”
Nanashi’s eyes blazed, “You called it ‘The face of true evil’. There—” Nanashi’s jaw clenched, “I understand that you must have a reason to be so vague, but I—I want to know. I used them to save you, and I only have a few left and I—I want to know.” He looked right into Flynn’s eyes, determined, “To understand what it is I’ve done.”
“You did nothing—they were already created. The harm is…in that creation.”
“Yeah?”
“…The…as I’m sure you know, the Ashura-kai were—”
Nanashi gasped, “Taking people.”
“Adults and children—they were…changing them. They made them think they lived in a paradise, and used their emotions and thoughts to—to create the Reds. They harvested them, and—that’s why I had to ensure that it didn’t continue.”
“People—people trusted the Ashura-kai. Even though everyone hated being exploited by them, we—” Nanashi faltered, “They ran the shops, sold the Reds, gave a lot of people safety they were otherwise lacking—especially when the Hunters were a smaller organization, when we were less centralized.” Nanashi swallowed, “Kinshicho was always one of the stronger Hunter towns—we didn’t have as many Ashura-kai around here as the other cities did. But we still benefitted from them, even though we hated them too.”
“That isn’t anyone’s fault,” Flynn said quietly, “They took that power—trapped everyone in their net.”
“Still!” Nanashi’s eyes blazed, “Shouldn’t we have better defended ourselves? Shouldn’t the Hunters have stopped them, shouldn’t—”
“You know how life is in Tokyo—you do not need me to explain how difficult life is here. You know that they had manpower, resources, food and safety—people couldn’t pass that up. If they did, they’d die. No—the people did need the Ashura-kai, even though they did evil, even though they exploited everyone.” Flynn frowned, shaking his head, “If anything—it was egoistical of me to decimate them—to assume I knew better for Tokyo. But…after what I saw, I could not abide their existence, could not leave them untouched when I knew the harm they did to the people.”
“You were right,” Nanashi snarled with conviction, “The Reds shouldn’t exist if that was the price of their existence. Every life they save is meaningless to the lives taken in making them. You—You did what was right, look at Tokyo now. We are so much better off without them interfering, holding the Hunters back, holding the underground cities hostage.” Nanashi scoffed, “We are better off,” he repeated.
Flynn sighed, and slowly nodded. It felt relieving—this wasn’t something he had ever described before. It felt good to tell someone, to have that person agree with him. But…of course Nanashi would. Young Hunter though he was, he was raised here. He wanted to protect people just as much as Flynn did, evidenced by how he just put himself at risk to save him.
It meant more, even, that someone like Nanashi was the one to hear of this.
Nanashi was looking down again, at the small pill within his hands, “And this, small, terrible thing… it’s what saved your life.” His expression was shuttered, shadowed. Flynn didn’t know him well enough to see deeper into him.
Flynn quickly disagreed, “No—the Reds are not what saved me. You are.” The tool didn’t matter—anyone who used Reds was innocent of what had been done to create them. Even if Nanashi had known, the Reds already existed, those Reds already made. There was nothing wrong with using them.
Even though Flynn himself couldn’t bear the thought of even touching them, that he would much rather die—
“…You would’ve died, wouldn’t you?” Nanashi bit his lip, as he whispered, “Your arm was injured, you couldn’t get to your Gauntlet. You wouldn’t have been able to escape.” Nanashi swallowed, his fingers twitching—he looked afraid.
“Yes,” he replied grimly. No. Death is meaningless to me. I would have risen again, as I always have.
“You—” and to Flynn’s alarm, the boy’s green eyes welled with tears, his lips trembling, and Flynn stared, unsure of what to do, hesitant to even reach out. “If even you can die from just doing a quest then—” His breaths hiccupped, tears slipping down his cheeks. He leaned forward, practically tossing the pill on the table in front of them so that his hands could wipe furiously at his eyes. “I-I’m sorry. My—my mentor, and the other Hunter on our team—th-they both died recently. I thought—I thought having the power that people like them had, that people like you had, would—”
Nanashi shook his head, sitting back deeper into the couch, his body curling in on itself, “I thought power like that—would keep you safe. But if even you’re not safe, then I—”
His hands were trembling, his shoulders shaking as well. Flynn had never been before someone breaking down like this. Slowly, he reached out, placing a hand on one of Nanashi’s shoulders. The boy looked to him, eyes blurred with a sheen of tears. Nanashi opened his mouth, like he wanted to say more, but then he closed it. Something in his eyes looked deeply afraid, and he scratched at the green markings on the back of his hand.
Flynn squeezed the fingers that held Nanashi’s shoulder, leaning closer to him to look more clearly into his eyes. “No matter how powerful someone is, they’re still vulnerable. I can die,” he breathed, “Just like anyone can. Tokyo is dangerous for everyone—I am not some…” Flynn paused, chewing on his words, “I am not unlike anyone else. I am not better than anyone else. We are all the same, and in this world, anyone can die. That is the reality of a life full of demons—of Tokyo.”
You’re lying.
Nanashi wilted, his shoulders sinking down. Flynn was not done. “But—I didn’t die. I survived today, just as I survived all else that I’ve gone through—because I was not alone. Allies step in for each other. My friends have protected me, Hunters have protected me, even Gaeans protected me, once. And today, it was you.”
He smiled gently at the Hunter, “You were there to save me, and for that I thank you. When I fight, when I risk myself for the people of Tokyo, I know that risk, I choose to embrace it. I choose to for you,” Nanashi’s eyes widened, “For every person I’ve ever met in Tokyo. This is a world I will protect, a world I will try to save, until my last breath.”
“And…” Flynn sighed, releasing Nanashi’s shoulder, looking away for a moment to allow him a moment of privacy, for him to wipe at his eyes again, “Someday I will die, but I trust that the Hunters will continue my work. I entrust the dream I have to all of you, for I know that we all share it.”
Flynn leaned back into the couch, looking up to the ceiling tiles, “You…you all may call me Liberator, but I do not differ from you. We’re the same.”
Liar.
After a moment, he sighed, looking back to Nanashi. The young Hunter’s eyes had cleared, although they were slightly red-rimmed now. Guilt gnawed at Flynn’s heart. “I am sorry,” he said softly, “About your mentor, and your friend.”
“Th-Thank you…” Nanashi said slowly, clearly still trying to hold back his tears. “It’s—they protected me and Asahi, gave their lives for us. That’s why I’m a Hunter now, why I have to get stronger.”
“You’re resourceful, so that’s a good start,” Flynn said, waving a hand towards the Red on the table. “The strength will come with time, training and wariness.” His mouth quirked up in a small smile, “Don’t make mistakes. Do everything you can to survive.”
“I will,” Nanashi replied, sitting up straight, meeting Flynn’s eyes determinedly. “I will do anything to stay alive.”
It was only fair repayment, when Flynn stepped forward into Krishna’s grasp, all to protect the two young Hunters. And Flynn wasn’t afraid of death, knew it would only be temporary for him. But…Krishna wasn’t going to kill him. Something far worse was on the horizon, and Flynn had to accept it, even with shaking fingers.
Even if he didn’t owe Nanashi a debt, he would always save the people—always save the Hunters. And so, he stepped forward.
Nanashi was horrified, and Flynn tried to forget his expression as he submitted to the Divine Powers.