Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a warm, calm night. 

The scenery was as it always was, silent aside from the sound of nature; birds and insects chirping, rocks tumbling down the nearby cliffs, the sound of plants rustling gently. It was a sobering and rugged kind of sound, one without the man-made bustle of cars and things. There was also no light pollution, so most nights the sky was speckled with the beauty of the universe. 

Aiolos sat in his bedchamber within the Sagittarius temple, flipping through a small hand-bound book. It was old and weathered, like it had been read repeatedly throughout the years. He was so engrossed here that he almost missed the owl that had flown into his temple through the window-esque area near the roof.

“How odd. . .” the man grumbled, closing the book and setting it in his lap. Seeing exotic birds in Sanctuary was nothing new, but owls were something completely different. Owls were the personal bird of choice for the Goddess Athena; though their symbolism was everywhere, it was considered taboo and insulting for any living specimens to be kept at Sanctuary as pets. Aiolos personally had only ever seen an owl once in his life, and that was a few days prior.

The goddess Athena had been reborn on earth yet again, signifying that a great strife between gods will soon befall the land. As an elder of the twelve Gold Saints and the next in line to lead Sanctuary as the Grand Pope, Aiolos was of course present for such a momentous occasion. He and his closest companion, Saga, had arrived at the Temple of Athena at the very peak of Sanctuary. Though they couldn’t lay eyes upon the maiden goddess at that time, the very notion of standing near her chambers filled them with the warmth that is her divine cosmo and they both knew then that their goddess had truly arrived. The Saintia, a special type of Saint who were exclusively women and handmaidens to the goddess, were extremely kind towards the men, even gushing about the adorable babe that slept just beyond the doors they stood at.

Notable of them all being Olivia, the leader of the Saintia. She held an immense cosmo and an even stronger aura of compassion and femininity. A lovely woman through and through, and at her shoulder was a large owl. That was the first time Aiolos had ever seen one, aside from carvings and pictures in books. A beautiful and regal animal, truly befitting Athena. 

Yes, the birth of Athena is a joyous yet concerning occasion indeed, which had prompted Aiolos to spend his time within his temple, studying the texts of long before, when last Athena descended to earth. The situation of the 18th century’s Holy War, Athena’s turmoil of facing her brother by human blood, and the many battles that drew from it. All of it was fascinating, and was worth researching even if it happened nearly 200 years prior. There was always wisdom to be learned from the efforts of those who came before you, as Pope Shion had repeatedly taught Aiolos and Saga. 

However, there was nothing in the texts to explain why Olivia’s owl had made its way to his temple of all places. Though he was certain it was indeed the same one he saw days prior, as it bore the same markings and coloration.

“What’s the matter, my avian friend?” Aiolos extended his arm, to which the bird immediately flew to and perched upon. It flexed its large wings, hooting softly. He gently scratched under its beak, suddenly being assaulted by the immediate sense of dread. The owl quickly took flight again, leaving the man behind as it soared out of the temple. 

Something was wrong, horribly so.

Aiolos threw the blanket off his lower half and pulled on his boots, sprinting out of the temple to follow the bird. It seemed to be waiting for him, as it was circling outside the temple before taking off towards Athena’s temple. Horrified at what this implied, Aiolos wasted no time sprinting after the creature, leaving the temples of his comrades behind. Normally he’d never intrude on the other temples without invitation, but if something was threatening Athena, he and the other gold saints had a duty to protect her no matter the courtesy or lack thereof. As such, he made sure to signal the alarm as he passed through each temple. 

I’m sorry for the wake-up call, my friends. . .

He made it to the Temple of Athena and was greeted by the scent of blood and the sight of bodies scattered across the floor. Aiolos recognized these corpses based solely on their attire. They were the Saintia, the direct attendants to Athena. He felt his heart drop into his stomach. Who could have done this? And who could have surpassed Sanctuary’s defenses so soundly, without any alert to the 12 temples? Worst of all, Aiolos feared he was too late. If the Saintia were bested, what hopes could there be for the newborn Athena? 

The gold saint fell to his knees before one of the Saintia, extending a hand to test her pulse. A futile effort, just judging from the lack of cosmo she was emitting he knew she was beyond saving. There was a glint at her chest that caught his attention, so he gently grabbed the item and lifted it up to see it better. It was a Cloth Medallion. He glanced around a tad and noticed as well that none of them were wearing their Cloths, meaning the assailant must have wiped them all out before they had a chance to react.

“Waah..waaahaah!”

Aiolos was ripped from his melancholy at the sound of an infant’s cries. Athena was still alive! 

He launched towards the door that led to the infant’s bedchambers, using his shoulder to bust the door open. There laid Olivia, apparently having been the last line of defense for the goddess, and standing over the cradle was the Grand Pope himself, holding a glittering golden knife.

The golden knife was plunged down at the child but was stopped at the last second by Aiolos himself. He had grabbed both hand and blade, his blood flowing from the fresh wound and saturating the crib below. The infant cried, but not a single drop of blood touched her delicate frame. 

“Your Holiness, what are you doing?!” Aiolos cried, using his free hand to grab the other by his arm and push him away from the infant. The Pope seemed startled to see him here, judging by how he didn’t immediately react. Though, this melted away soon enough as he tried to pull himself from Aiolos’ grasp.

“Unhand me, Aiolos! This must be done!”

“What are you talking about?! This is the goddess Athena! Do you understand who you are threatening here?!”

The two men grappled with each other for a few moments, before the Pope stumbled back, morbidly tripped up by Olivia’s body. The mask helmet he wore fell from his person, clattering onto the marble below.

There was nothing but silence between them, but the tension spoke a million words and more.

“It’s. . .you. . .?” Aiolos gaped as the Pope stood, covering part of his exposed face with his hand.

“Why did it have to be you? Why you, of all people?” The Pope muttered, his voice choked with emotion. He raised the hand that still held the golden knife, slashing across Aiolos’ chest while he was stunned. 

“Ghhk!” Aiolos stumbled back as the knife carved through his skin for the second time tonight. It sliced through flesh like warm butter, spilling blood onto the marble below. The knife must’ve held some divine qualities, as it felt like his cosmo was dripping from him just like his blood.

“You’ve seen my face, Aiolos. . . Now you need to die.” 

Aiolos looked at the man before him and saw the pain in his eyes. As if he were acting not of his own accord. He wanted, no, it was more so that he needed to know what was going on. But the cries of the baby grounded him. There were more important things that he needed to focus on now. 

The Pope lunged forward with the weapon held out, swinging it now to plunge the blade within the saint’s heart. Aiolos flicked the golden medallion that hung proudly around his neck, becoming encased in a golden light that momentarily blinded the other man. It was a brief distraction, but it was all he needed. 

He grabbed Athena from her crib and took flight, leaving the temple and the Pope behind. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but he knew Sanctuary was no longer his home. Even from the sky he could hear the commotion and the sirens. The Grand Pope must’ve labeled him a madman and who knows what else. In his arms, the infant quieted down, settling back into sleep despite the circumstances.

Seeing her like this reminded him of his kid brother. His kid brother, whom he had left beyond. Aiolos took one last look at Sanctuary, his expression somber.

“Aiolia. . .forgive me.” 

His peaceful flight did not last, however, as a slash of light whizzed past him followed by two more. They all got dangerously close to hitting him and the baby he held, yet he still managed to dodge, driven purely by instinct. The issue was not the slashes themselves, but the one launching them at him.

“Shura!”

A bright comet of golden light streaked from Sanctuary, gaining on Aiolos from behind. The Blade of Athena, wearer of the Capricorn gold cloth; the man known as Shura. Admittedly, despite being gold saints and knowing each other for such a long time, Aiolos didn’t know much about Shura as a person. He was a quiet and stoic man who always kept to himself, but his battle prowess and abilities were always considered top-notch, even among the other gold saints. It was this very prowess that concerned Aiolos; normally dodging or even engaging in direct battle with Shura was easy enough. Sure, he’d end up sore and with a few new scars, but it was certainly nothing he couldn’t handle.

But carrying a baby made these options incredibly difficult. Dodging too haphazardly could hurt her, but taking direct hits would be foolish as well.

“Halt, traitor!” Shura called, his voice clear and steady. With a determined glint in his eye, he swung his arm in an upward slicing motion, loosing another energy slash. “First you murder the Saintia who tend to our goddess, next you threaten Her Ladyship directly, all to run once you’re caught?! Where is your pride as a gold saint?! As one of the upper echelon of what all saints aspire to be?!”

Aiolos held the babe to his chest, furling his wings around her as he dodged attack after attack. 

Shura’s story made no sense, but Aiolos didn’t have it within him to be surprised. The Pope was twisting the narrative, framing Aiolos as the traitor. An effort to ensure both he and the infant Athena die at the hands of the saints that’ll hunt him down. He was almost impressed at the man’s abilities to adapt under pressure, but he knew the man under the mask better than he knew himself. Which is what made this turn all the more strange. 

“Answer me, Aiolos! The Pope ordered us to not let you leave Sanctuary!”

At the sound of his name being called with such deep tones of betrayal and hurt, Aiolos turned to face the other and saw the pain that lay beneath his features as well. So much pain, and all for a reason that he hadn’t grasped yet. 

“I’m sorry, Shura. You’d never believe me even if I told you.”

“Because it’ll all be lies!! What reason do you have to barge into Athena’s chamber and challenge the Grand Pope?! Why flee instead of staying and defending yourself?!”

“Shura,” Aiolos used the wings of his cloth to form a protective casing for the infant, fastening it to his chest so his arms would be free to move. “If you had to choose between believing the Grand Pope or believing me, who would you have chosen?”

The Capricorn saint noticeably paused, his expression lost on Aiolos. However, the pause was all he needed to see.

Smiling despite the bitter taste in his throat and the tears stinging at his eyes, Aiolos brought up his golden bow and arrow and fired a shot straight up into the sky. The arrow flew upwards, encased in glowing cosmo, before breaking into hundreds of smaller arrows that fell towards Shura.

“Goodbye, Shura.” 

“Aiolos!!”

Using the attack as a distraction, Aiolos quickly flew towards the edge of Sanctuary. If he could just escape the boundary, he’d have time to get some distance before the other saints pursued him further. Judging by Shura’s statement, Aiolos was to be stopped before he left completely. Meaning they were all still bound to stay within Sanctuary’s boundaries until the Pope orders otherwise,  lest they too be branded a traitor. All he had to do was leave the boundary and he could disappear! He didn’t know what he’d do once free, but hiding from the other saints would be easy enough using the right precautions.

As he thought of what to do after this point, Aiolos neglected to realize that Shura had freed himself from the arrow bombardment and as a final ditch effort to keep the other from escaping, launched an Excalibur slash directly at Aiolos’ back.

“Gnnh!” 

The blow was luckily too weak to cleave the man in half due to being fired off in desperation, but it was still more than enough to hurt, and hurt badly at that. Unable to sustain his flight, Aiolos fell to earth like a glittering shooting star of gold. Shura watched from a distance as his attack hit its mark, as the other fell to his presumable death.

“. . . Goodbye, Aiolos.” 

Shura gave a final glance before flying back to the Pope’s temple to report.

—

“Young man, are you alright?”

Aiolos groaned, feeling the brunt of the night’s events bearing down on him all at once. The adrenaline had long since faded away, leaving nothing but pain and throbbing aches all over his battered body. In his arms still was the baby Athena, who was somehow still fast asleep despite everything that happened. The Sagittarius cloth spared them both from becoming smudges in the countryside, and it was probably the only thing keeping Aiolos together.

As his eyes adjusted to the light currently being shined at him, some sort of flashlight, he noticed two figures standing over him.

“Young man?”

“Who. . .who are you?”

“That’s what we should be asking you! What kind of lunatic falls from the sky in the middle of the night?! And what on earth are you wearing! Master Kido, please don’t get too close!” The bald headed man with the flashlight barked out, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. And judging by how ghastly Aiolos currently looked, he couldn’t find it within himself to blame the guy. The man who had been gently calling out to him, an older man with a beard and a soft expression, turned to the other and lightly scolded him.

“Leave him be, Tokumaru. Can’t you see the poor man is injured? Do you need help?”

Aiolos looked around, before turning his head towards Sanctuary which was quite a ways in the distance. Shura’s attack must’ve sent him flying, way farther than he expected. This was good news, it meant he was out of the boundary and had time to put more distance between himself and the other saints. However, he had these two to deal with.

They didn’t seem to have any cosmo within them, latent or otherwise, and Aiolos didn’t recognize their faces so it was doubtful they were Sanctuary soldiers. They also had foreign names, which Aiolos recognized as Japanese thanks to his world studies when he was preparing to become Grand Pope.

Deciding to take the chance, Aiolos told the two all about what happened and who he was, as well as the identity of the baby he had spirited away. At first, he could tell the men were incredulous, but after remembering that Aiolos had fallen from the sky and lived, but also wore a golden set of armor, they were more inclined to believe him.

After his story was complete, the bearded man nodded.

“This all sounds very serious. If the goddess only revives once every 200 years, then her death would spell certain doom for earth, would it not?”

“Yes. Hiding her away will be easy enough, as Sanctuary will most likely assume she’s dead from the fall I took. However, they’ll continue to hunt me down as a traitor. I can never return to Sanctuary, especially not while injured.”

“Though, they wouldn’t have any reason to hunt you down if they thought you were dead.”

“Pardon?”

The older man crossed his arms, gently scratching at his beard as he collected his thoughts. “If we leave some sort of body double here, when those saint fellows come searching, they’ll find a corpse and call off the search. That way you’ll be free to live as you please without a target painted on your back.” He turned to the man named Tokumaru, snapping his fingers. “Search the morgues around here for anyone resembling this young man. And bring up the car, we need to vacate the area.”

Tokumaru bowed deeply before pulling out a cellphone and sprinting out towards the main road, leaving the two men alone.

“. . .

“Why are you doing this for me?” Aiolos held Athena closer to his chest, as if protecting her from the other man. 

“You said it yourself, you’re a saint of Athena. Anyone willing to risk his life for another person is worth saving.” The man stood, extending a hand to the other. “My name is Mitsumasa Kido. Come with me, and I can ensure both you and the little lady’s protection.”

Aiolos looked at the offered hand before looking down at the baby. If he declined Kido’s help, he’d be forced to wander with an infant and no way to take care of himself, at least not right away. And without the capabilities of leaving Greece, there was a good chance he’d be found again. On the other hand, he didn’t want to leave Athena by herself with a stranger, no matter how kindly he seemed. Finding no other option, Aiolos grabbed Kido’s hand, getting up into a standing position with the man’s help. Once he was on his feet, the Sagittarius cloth reverted back to a gold medallion, dangling from around his neck.

“Neat trick.”

“Yeah well, it’s either this or carry it around as a giant gold box. Which is fine for training purposes. Not so great for escaping.”

The two turned as Tokumaru returned with the car, which was more like a limousine than the regular cars Aiolos had seen in town. Noticing his stunned expression, Mitsumasa let out a chuckle before opening the door for the younger man.

“Not the most subtle thing on the planet, but it’ll get us where we need to go.”

“I don’t know who you are, Mr. Kido, but it seems like you also have some explaining to do.” Aiolos shook his head in disbelief, sliding into the backseat as carefully as he could without jostling the baby too much.  

“We can discuss things in the car ride to the hospital. You look awful lad.” Mitsumasa replied, getting in beside Aiolos and shutting the door behind them.

“I feel a lot worse than I look, that’s for sure.” Aiolos turned to look out the window, watching as Sanctuary grew smaller and smaller as the limousine drove off in the opposite direction. He felt homesick already, leaving the only place he called home and everyone he loved behind. But it was for the greater good. He had Athena to worry about now, and her safety was far more important than his melancholy.

One day, when Athena is old enough and he’s healed up, they’ll return to Sanctuary. 

For now, for the first time in hours, Aiolos can relax. And, like the babe lovingly swaddled in his arms, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

–

Six hours later, Aiolos found himself waking up in a bland looking room filled with medical equipment. This wasn’t much of a surprise, he’d walked himself into the hospital at the behest of Mitsumasa due to the many wounds on his body. Though Aiolos advised him that he’d heal soon enough thanks to his condition and his cosmo, Kido didn’t seem very impressed at the notion of magical healing and sternly advised him to stop and rest. 

Admittedly, he felt pretty good. It’s been a long time since he had the comfort of modern medicine as Sanctuary and the saints had their own healing rituals and remedies that were used. He put a hand over his chest, seeing it was heavily bandaged. And with it, all the memories of the night prior washed over him. 

“Oh, you’re already awake?”

Aiolos turned to the sound of the voice, seeing Mitsumasa Kido standing at the door with a tray of what looked to be food. There was a sense of panic that gripped the brunet man as he didn’t see the baby Athena anywhere in the room, to which he quickly began to get off the bed despite being attached to heart monitors and IV drips.

“Easy, easy there lad.” Mitsumasa set the tray down on the bedside table, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “She’s fine. The hospital is looking over her for any wounds or internal damage. Tokumaru is with her.”

Aiolos sighed heavily, leaning back against the pillows as Mitsumasa readjusted the blankets and set the tray table over the other’s lap. It was a hefty meal for a patient; a serving of omelet casserole, two slices of ladenia flatbread, a takeout cup of coffee, and a piece of karythopita. His stomach growled in empty protest, which spurred him to pick up the fork and start devouring the food before him. He hadn’t eaten much in regards to full meals due to his constant studying, which was something that Saga scolded him for constantly.

Saga. . .

He lowered the fork slowly, picking up the takeout cup and taking slow, pensive sips.

“Aiolos, we need to discuss some things.” Kido said, taking a seat beside him. Whether he meant to or not, Aiolos welcomed the distraction. 

“Like what?”

“Your and Athena’s identities. Once you’re discharged, we’ll be leaving for Japan. We’ll need to explain then where you two came from that won’t raise red flags in case Sanctuary happens to cast a glance on the rest of the globe.”

He brought up a good point. If this new life aspect were to take root, he would need a new identity to go with it. However, Aiolos wasn’t known for his skill in naming things. 

“What do you suppose I do?”

“I have an idea, though I wanted to run it by you first.

“I’ll be declaring both you and the baby as my kin, specifically my son and my granddaughter. We’ll explain your absence as you were living overseas but the death of your wife in childbirth drove you back to Japan to stay with me.”

Aiolos took another bite of his ladenia, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Your son?”

“You’re certainly young enough to be my son, so it would fit well. How old are you, lad?”

He paused, thinking about it for a tad. Aiolos was never very good with dates either, and birthdays weren’t something he kept track of. Aside from his kid brother and Saga, he normally didn’t recall any birthdays. Least of all his own. However, he did know that he had a birthday coming up, as age was one of the main reasons why he and Saga were chosen to study as potential heirs to the Grand Pope title. 

“I’ll be turning 19 soon. On the 30th of November.”

“And the child?”

“She was born just a few days ago, on the 1st of this month.”

Mitsumasa nodded, writing the information down in a memo pad he had removed from the breast pocket of his blazer. “Very good. I’ll have my people make some birth certificates and things to officiate your existence in Japan. Unless you have these things in Sanctuary?”

Aiolos shook his head, which the man had already expected was the case. He wrote that down as well as the door to the room was opened. It was Tokumaru Tatsumi and the baby Athena, who was currently cooing and awake. 

“She’s been cleared by the hospital, sir. They found nothing wrong,  not even a hair out of place.” He advised, bringing the baby over and placing her in the arms of Mitsumasa. 

The infant giggled, reached out to grab at the man’s beard. Kido smiled, a beaming warmth that Aiolos knew was genuine care. He’d seen that look before, and even  had that expression himself a few times.

“Saori.” he suddenly said, causing the other two occupants to look at him in confusion. “Her name from now on shall be Saori. Saori Kido.”

“Lady Saori. Saori-ojousama.” Tatsumi repeated, testing the name and its honorifics to himself a few times. 

“And you, my boy, shall be known henceforward as Atsuya Kido.”

Aiolos scrunched his nose a bit at the name. He didn’t know what it meant or the significance behind it, but it was foreign. Which meant he had plenty of extra studying to do on Japan and its customs.

“Judging by your expression, I assume you don’t know much Japanese?”

“Not quite sir, Sanctuary is quite traditional in its ways, but I needed to learn multiple languages in my studies to be Pope. However I'm only fluent in Greek and English.”

“English is a great first step, meaning we can at least properly communicate with each other. When we return to Japan I’ll hire some tutors for you to learn the language.” Mitsumasa stated, cradling little Saori for a bit before looking at Aiolos again. “Would you like to hold her?”

“No, I shouldn’t―”

“Nonsense, I can see it in your eyes. Here.” 

Aiolos quickly moved the tray out of his lap so he could properly hold the infant, supporting her head with the crook of his elbow. She giggled, reaching out and gently grabbing at the gold medallion around his neck. At her touch, it glowed faintly, as if rejuvenated by the goddess’ cosmo.

“I know it must be a lot for you, you’re so young yourself. But Saori will be raised looking up to you as her father. She may be Athena, but within her beats the heart of a mortal. She’ll have doubts, fears, worries. But she will also be full of love, kindness, compassion, and hope. You’re her only tie to the life she was forced to leave behind.”

Aiolos gently ran his thumb along her chubby little cheek, smiling as she laughed and looked up at him with those large blue eyes. The kinship he felt towards her was partly his duty as a saint, but Mitsumasa was right. Athena is always born as a human, even if she has the power and cosmo of a goddess. If only Olivia or the other Saintia had survived the assault. He could use the advice.

“This is pretty unconventional,” Aiolos began, turning to Mitsumasa. “Usually the Saintia would raise the infant Athena. Us saints, being all men, would never be allowed to take care of her.”

“Saintia. You mentioned them before, those poor women who died protecting the child?”

“Yes. . .I didn’t witness what happened, but I can only assume the Grand Pope is the one who killed them. I didn’t know any of them personally, but they were always kind and regal. They didn’t deserve what happened to them, but it's a Saint’s fate to die for Athena. I’m sure they’d have no regrets.”

“Are there any more of them?”

Aiolos paused, trying to recall the faces of the women who died. Aside from Olivia, he counted at least 7 or 8 visible bodies.

“I. . .Not in Sanctuary, no. There may be others across the planet at other Saint camps, but I’d have no way of knowing for sure.”

“The Graude Foundation will search for any living Saintia. We’ll need more of these cosmo-wielding superheroes to protect Saori. These saint fellows, can they be replicated?”

Aiolos leant back against the pillows, not quite understanding the line of questioning but seeing no real harm in it. “It’s not a matter of replicating. Anyone with the ability to harness and use cosmo is able to become a saint. They would typically be sent to any of the training camps across the planet and if they survive the curriculum, they can earn their Cloth.” 

Mitsumasa nodded, as if understanding everything perfectly. Aiolos wished he could say the same.

“We’ll handle the travel and extra information on our end.” Kido said, gently taking the baby from Aiolos. Tokumaru came and grabbed the empty tray so that the saint  could fully lay back and relax. “Take some time for yourself to recuperate, and we’ll head out before the end of next week.”

“Alright.”

Once they left the room, Aiolos was alone with his thoughts. And his regrets. He recalled the Grand Pope, the bodies of Olivia and the Saintia. He could almost smell the overpowering scent of blood and death, could almost feel the golden dagger rending his flesh and the impact of hitting the ground from thousands of feet up.

Aiolos turned to the window, watching the scenery outside his window. Soon, he’ll be in a new country with a new name and a new life. By now, Sanctuary probably assumed that he was dead. He thought of Aiolia, and the suffering he would endure for the narrative that the Grand Pope will paint of him. He thought of Shura, so duty bound, who would probably self-destruct if he learned the truth. He thought of Saga. . .

“. . .”

The Pope he saw in Athena’s chambers was someone that Aiolos didn’t recognize, not completely. He saw a face and he recognized it, sure, but it didn’t make sense to what he knew of the Grand Pope and the people of Sanctuary. For all he knew, the person he faced was just some spectre, who stole the face of his loved one in an effort to sew distrust and get rid of Athena.

The only names that come to mind were the ones he had recalled from the books and records he had been studying, in addition to his own training and stories passed down by word of mouth. Hades and Poseidon, the two gods who arose every 200 years to steal the Earth. It was this reason that Athena is reborn, as both a herald to the end of days but also the sole salvation of the planet. The only people who would want her dead would be those who want the planet for themselves.

“Gnnh.” Aiolos rolled onto his side, albeit a bit shakily, closing his eyes. He didn’t have the strength or the emotional fortitude to think about this right now. He had to worry about Athena, and how he was going to help her reclaim Sanctuary. It would be a long way out, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed some sort of plan. At least now he wasn’t alone; he had Kido and Tatsumi to help him. They were both older, and more worldly compared to him. He felt like he could trust them with some of the responsibility, at least until he grew a little wiser. 

For now though, he felt sleep overcoming him. 

Aiolos closed his eyes, drifting off for the second time in less than 12 hours.

–

Mitsumasa remained good on his promise and at the end of the following week, they left Greece to head to Japan. 

Aiolos, despite his age, was a child at heart. There were so many things he never got to experience as a Saint living in Sanctuary, and the advancements of technology in the outside world thoroughly amazed him. He clicked through the channels on the onboard tv system within the private jet, going between movies, tv shows, commercials, and sports games. Sure, he’d heard of these things through the grapevine from Saints who traveled to Sanctuary after living in other countries during their childhood, but he never had a chance to experience any of it. 

Mitsumasa couldn’t help but be amused at the sight before him. He walked down the aisle and sat across from the younger man, holding out a bottle of water. 

“Are you enjoying yourself there, lad?”

Aiolos paused, looking at Mitsumasa, then the tv, and then down at the water bottle. Suddenly, he felt a bit self conscious, grabbing the bottle and uttering a thank you. He had been hoping that question was rhetorical, but once he noticed that Kido was staring at him for a response, he grew even more embarrassed.

“Uhm. I’ve never seen things like this back at Sanctuary. Like I said, it’s very traditional. There isn’t even electricity, not that we need it.” Aiolos looked down at Saori, who lay in a travel seat beside him. “Cosmo pretty much gave us everything we needed, warmth, strength, healing, and even light. There wasn’t much need for anything else.”

“This ‘cosmo’ sounds like quite the effective superpower. Why haven’t we heard more about you all?”

“It’s forbidden to speak of Sanctuary and the Saints to the outside world. Typically our battles take place far away from the eyes of normal humans anyways, so there’s never any need to worry about innocent bystanders or people spreading our existence around.” Aiolos rested his hand in Saori’s car-seat, his expression softening as the infant gently grabbed his fingers in her sleep. “Even the Saints who were born in the outside world and migrate to Sanctuary or any of the other camps later in life had no idea what exactly a Saint was prior to their training.”

“Then how did they find the camps if it’s such a well–guarded secret?” Tatsumi responded, coming out from the galley of the plane with two trays of food. He set the trays down on the table in front of the two men before stepping back to get out of their way.

“If someone manifests Cosmo, Saints who are tasked with recruitment will come and take them to the nearest camp for training. Usually nothing much is said and if a recruit has any family they're convinced it’s just a special type of scholarship or schooling. Though oddly enough, most of the people who end up becoming Saints are either orphans or estranged from their families.”

“So their absence is never missed.” Mitsumasa replied, to which Aiolos nodded.

“Though some Saints are born within the compound of their respective camps. Like me and my younger brother were born and raised in Sanctuary, though we never knew our parents very well.”

“Your younger brother?”

Aiolos glanced down at the trays of food, his silence telling Mitsumasa everything but nothing all at the same time. He knew, at least, that this was a conversation that shouldn't be continued. 

“Kido-sama, we'll be touching down in Japan soon.” Tatsumi called from the door of the cockpit, apparently having been conversing with the pilot as the two spoke. Taking this newfound thread, Mitsumasa grabbed a pair of chopsticks and separated them, picking up the bowl of steamed rice covered in delicately arranged meats and a fried egg before looking over at Aiolos.

“Are you ready, son? Once you step off this plane, your life as Atsuya Kido begins. Aiolos died after escaping Greece, leaving nothing behind but his corpse and a wrongly obtained title. You get a luxury that not many can obtain; the ability to start over.”

Aiolos heard the man's words and understood the gravity of it all, yet still there was an awful lump in his throat. Once the plane landed, Aiolos would be dead for good. Atsuya will take his place, breathe air through his lungs and trudge forward on his legs. The road ahead of Athena and himself was paved in cracked stones made of blood and tears, and the cracks can only be patched with more blood and more tears. Innumerable amounts of pain and hardships await them, but it is their destiny to endure it. They, as the last bastion of hope for the earth, were the future generals of the army to fight the Holy War. 

But the war will not be fought tomorrow. Nor will it be fought the day after, or the day after that. Perhaps some part of him longed for his future as Atsuya; to live a normal life free of poverty and hardship. The war was far off, and so he could afford, at least for the meantime, to raise Saori with love and care, to teach her of the beauty of the world and all that resides upon it, so that one day when she takes up arms against the old gods, she will do so as a human. Not a human in that she will be easy to defeat, but human in that her love for her fellow man would outshine the divinity that lives as her birthright. 

Saori is destined to fight, but she will fight as a human defending her home, not as a god protecting her property. Her mortal heart will beat for humanity and humanity alone, and the fire within her will burn so fierce and so righteous that it will purify the evil that surrounds her. He can wish that of her, as her guard, as her Saint, as her father.

That though the burden she carries is much like Atlas carrying the planet upon his shoulders, she will carry that burden with pride. She with her maiden heart that beats of blood and not ichor, may not be able to shed tears or wear her heart on her sleeve, but she will love. And her love will be stronger than any steel, sharper than any sword, more unyielding than the boulder uphill.

Yes, by the gods, she will love and she will love so truly that some may forget there was ever a time that her love didn't exist. And if he can plant that seedling, then she will do the rest on her own. Aiolos knows in his heart that this is true because her very existence already sparked the growth of love within him. 

“Saori. I’ll protect you with everything that I am and everything that I have. So please, grow up healthy and safe.”

The baby, as if awoken by her name, looked up at Aiolos and giggled. She began reaching her tiny hands up to grab at him, cooing happily. He resolved then, upon seeing it, that he will devote his all to protect everything about her, including that smile. 

Not that he needed any more reasons, of course.

–

“The traitor’s body has been located and recovered. Nothing was found on him, no Cloth or anything.” 

“He must’ve hidden it somewhere right? Keep searching!”

“Hidden how?? His body was in a crater! He must’ve died on impact! Someone must’ve looted his body. Check the pawn shops or black market areas near the area. We cannot let the Sagittarius Cloth fall into the wrong hands.”

A man with deep purple hair stepped away and excused himself from the group of Saints, walking towards the zodiac temples. No one seemed to approach him, instead giving him space or even ducking their heads as he walked by. As he walked through the temples, which all seemed to be entirely empty due to the Saints being scrambled to chase after Aiolos, he simply trudged on like a zombie. His stupor brought him to the Sagittarius temple, the very same one that Aiolos abandoned days prior.

“. . .”

The man collapsed to his knees in the center of the temple, staring down at the ground. 

“Aiolos. . .” he whispered, his voice soft and choked with emotion.

“What are you so emotional about, Saga?” Another voice replied, a man with a powerful yet angry tone. “If he stayed here then everything the Grand Pope, that I, worked so hard for would be ruined. You should be glad he died a relatively painless death falling thousands of feet to the ground instead of being dragged back to Sanctuary.”

“How can you expect me to be happy about that?!” Saga yelled, gripping his hair and shaking his head repeatedly. “Of course I didn’t want this! Aiolos― He didn’t deserve any of that. He’s not a traitor, he was next in line to become the Pope! You of all people should know and understand that!”

“You’re so infuriating. If I didn’t need you for my plans, I’d kill you in a heartbeat.”

“I’d rather die.” Saga sobbed, leaning forward until his forehead was touching the ground. “If it means I can atone for my sins and ruin your plans, I’d do it. I’d do anything.”

A burst of light rushed forward and struck Saga, slamming him against the temple wall. The force was immense, enough to crack the stone and knock the wind out of him. He shuddered to think what damage he would have sustained if he wasn’t wearing his armor.

“You’ll die when I say you can die. Your life only means something because I still have a use for it. So save your nonsense, you'll only serve to embarrass yourself.”

Saga groaned from his position on the ground, rolling onto his stomach to get into a better position to stand up. 

“Saga!” 

He looked up partially, coming face to face with Shura, the Capricorn Saint. He looked concerned, placing his hands on Saga’s shoulders as if he were close to falling apart. “Saga! Are you alright?? What happened to you?”

The aubergine-haired man sighed, standing on his own two feet before placing a hand on Shura’s to ease his worry. 

“I’m alright, thank you. I just. . .had a disagreement with the Grand Pope. He mistrusts me, you see.”

Shura seemed to understand completely, nodding his head. It made sense that anyone affiliated with Aiolos would be looked down upon by the rest of Sanctuary. Saga most of all, considering he was not only a Saint as well, but extremely powerful to boot. If he wanted to overthrow Sanctuary, Shura thought, he would definitely get the closest. A sobering and terrifying thought, but Shura was confident that something like that would never happen.

“You’re the epitome of a true Saint, Saga. No one would ever judge you unfairly.”

Saga laughed at the cruel irony of the younger Saint’s words, resisting the urge to look away. “Some good that did for Aiolos, no?”

Shura immediately shut his mouth. Saga appreciated how honest Shura was. He seemed stoic, but he actually wore his heart on his sleeve. He was easily flustered at times, but always staunch in his beliefs and what he held dear. There was power in feeling as Shura did, Saga acknowledged. He wished that he too, had the luxury to feel so openly.

“Worry not about me, Shura. I just. . .need some time. Though you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t want to see Aiolos’ body at the mausoleum but, I must know, is it him? Truly?”

Shura pursed his lips, a pained expression crossing his face, but he did not avert his eyes. “I. . .laid eyes on the body, yes.” He didn’t want to mention how battered the body looked from its plummet to Earth, but he was confident the body had to have been Aiolos. It couldn’t have been anyone else. 

Saga exhaled shakily, putting his hands on his head as if fighting back a headache. “Oh, Aiolos. . .”

“Stop coddling him!” came the voice from before. The Grand Pope had apparently been there still, listening to their conversation. “He harbors guilt and regret over a traitor, one who tried to murder Athena with his own hands! He needs to see reality!”

Saga shook his head mournfully. Shura was never one to talk back to those of authority, but even he could tell how this was going a bit too far.

“My Lord,” Shura knelt respectfully in the direction of the voice, steady and calm despite the fear that seemed to bubble within his heart. What was this overwhelming and angry presence? Was this. . .the Pope? “Please, this is a delicate time for all of us. Saga has a right to be upset about this―”

“A right? You think that he has the right to be upset over something as insignificant as a traitor? “

The tone of his voice gave Shura pause. 

“If we had mental breakdowns for every single problem we encountered, our Saints would be incompetent and soft. None of you have a right to be a detriment to Sanctuary. Athena’s very life was threatened, and you see fit to indulge him in his delusions? Nonsense. Utter nonsense.

“I want you both out searching for the Sagittarius Cloth. The sooner we recover it, the sooner we can start looking for a replacement. Do not fail me again, Shura.”

He winced, looking down at his feet and not daring to presume to make eye contact. Shura awaited the sensation of the Pope walking past him on his way to his temple at the summit of the Twelve Temples, but there was nothing. Saga had knelt beside him, no longer gripping his head in agony but he looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Come to think of it, Shura hadn’t sensed any other presence in the Sagittarius temple aside from Saga, and he had simply stumbled upon him in his sorry state after being attacked.

But, attacked by what? The Grand Pope? 

Shura looked around before closing his eyes and focusing hard. He heard his own heartbeat, and the heartbeat of Saga beside him. But there was nothing else. No other signs of life, no one else here with them. 

Where had the Pope gone?

“Shura.”

The midnight-green haired man jumped at the sound, thinking that the Pope had returned or perhaps could sense Shura’s blatant disrespect, but upon further thought he realized the voice came from Saga. He turned to the other, blinking in confusion.

“Whatever you’re thinking, bury it deep within yourself. Some things are not worth the price they invoke.”

Something about those words sent a shiver up Shura’s spine. He didn’t quite understand the meaning, but he did recall the state he found Saga in and the anger within the Pope’s voice. Perhaps Saga had gone down the same rabbit hole and was punished for it, so now he was warning his junior of such dangerous thoughts. Shura nodded solemnly.

“We should go,” he said, standing and holding out a hand for Saga. “We don’t want to aggravate the Grand Pope any further.”

Saga seemed to contemplate it, but eventually he took Shura’s hand and stood. Even he knew that it would be suspicious to ignore a direct order from the Pope, especially in regards to a traitor. 

“Mm. Let’s head out to the site of the crash. If the Cloth was stolen, the thief should still be somewhere in the area. I doubt they had the wherewithal to go too far to sell it. We’ll send forces out across Greece to search and we should have our resolution within the week. I’m confident that there won’t be any further issues.”

Shura let himself be relieved at Saga’s words. Letting Aiolos make it out of Sanctuary was something that bothered him immensely, and while no one openly blamed him for it, it was still something that felt silently agreed upon. If he had gotten there sooner, he could have stopped Aiolos and prevented the Cloth from being lost in the first place. However, there was no point in thinking of what could have been. He could only focus on the here and now. 

As the two left the Sagittarius temple, Saga couldn’t help but look up towards the sky. Millions of stars peppered the night sky like freckles, and it was beautiful, yet sobering. A sight he had seen hundreds, if not thousands of times, and yet it always amazed him. Filled his chest with warmth and hope. Amidst the many twinkling stars, one seemed to glow brightest. Saga bowed his head and gave a silent prayer to the constellation that held the star, wishing for a beacon of hope, a light to cut through the darkness. And, as if answering his prayer, the star and its siblings within the constellation burned brighter. A constellation he recalled from old books of legends in Sanctuary.

The constellation of the Pegasus.

Chapter Text

Japan was nice.

Aiolos hadn’t had high hopes for this strange land that he now called home. But it was nice; peaceful and quiet. It wasn’t that way when he’d first arrived, to the surprise of no one. Mitsumasa Kido revealing he not only had a son, but a granddaughter who were now coming to live with him? It was a media sensation overnight. 

There were so many people who tried to talk to him or take pictures of him. Luckily, Kido was prepared for this. He fed a story of immense grief, of how Atsuya Kido lost his wife in childbirth and returned home to mourn and get help raising the baby. The Japanese were incredibly sympathetic; instead of trying to pry further into the life of the now widowed young father, they offered things such as support, money, and items for baby Saori. 

Aiolos, naturally humble and incapable of accepting hand-outs that were far more expensive than he was used to, respectfully declined all of the gifts, hoping that the group, while well-meaning, would stop. Unfortunately, this seemed to fan the flames of sympathy more. Word quickly spread of the wonderful son that Mitsumasa raised, and soon eyes were focused on him yet again, this time asking of his plans to succeed his father as rightful heir to the Kido fortune. All of which was news to Aiolos.

He wasn’t stupid; he knew when he had met him that Mitsumasa Kido was someone incredibly important. The old man was a business tycoon of some sort―extremely rich and well-versed in the ways of the world―but for what exactly, Aiolos had no clue. Not that Kido wasn’t completely forthcoming with what he did and who he was, but Aiolos found it hard to care about such things. There was nothing in their agreement that stated that Aiolos would need to become an heir to anything that Kido owned or operated. He was here simply for protection so he could properly raise Saori.

And thanks to Kido, it was an extremely easy and comfortable settling process. Aiolos would care for the infant in the mornings and nights, and during the day he took a multitude of classes to further his understanding and his ability to properly perform his ruse. Though Saori was rarely ever out of his sight, he had asked Kido to hire a nanny to watch over the infant when he was too busy to devote his full attention to her. 

However at the same time it was hard finding a proper nanny, and Aiolos feared that he was partially to blame.

For one thing, no men were considered for the job. As Athena is the maiden goddess, she cannot be raised or constantly tended to by a man. Aiolos was an exception, but only for now. Once she grew out of infancy, he wouldn’t be able to care for her in all the ways she’ll require, so he’ll need a female nanny to do so. Normally the Saintia would handle this as it was in their blood to care for and protect Athena. However, the Saintia he knew were wiped out during the siege on Sanctuary. While he could try to find any surviving saintias, it would put him at risk of being outed as alive.

So, the search for nannies was left entirely to Kido. Aiolos gave him a very extensive and very detailed list of what he required and the older man went off on his search. Aiolos didn’t have high hopes, but there was no point dwelling on it. After all, he had classes to focus on.

His day began with a light breakfast and a jog around the Kido estate. After that, he took a meditative shower to cleanse both his body and mind. Then the tutors arrived; Japanese and Language Studies, History, Mathematics, Business and Accounting―Aiolos didn’t understand the need for it, but he found it fascinating and didn’t complain―and multiple martial arts, which excited Aiolos the most. He loved to learn, and new subjects or topics he’d never find within Sanctuary were incredibly interesting to him. Fighting styles were included in this fascination and thanks to Kido’s influence and Aiolos’ reputation, there was a long line of tutors in every regard hoping for a chance to meet the illustrious and reclusive Atsuya Kido. Which Aiolos was very happy about indeed.

At the end of each week, the tutors all submitted their reports on Atsuya’s learning and results to Mitsumasa directly. Kido would be lying if he said he didn’t initially harbor doubts of Aiolos’ capabilities. Here was this scruffy boy from Greece who was raised by a group of supernatural warriors of the gods. He figured that if Aiolos had any form of schooling, it was base level and extremely rustic and outdated. That first week, he dreaded the reports of the tutors. Kido had even prepared bribes or replacements in case the tutors decided to quit, but he was shocked to his core when he entered the meeting room and was utterly bombarded by starry-eyed scholars.

“Kido-san! Why didn’t you tell us your son was a genius?!”

“I’ve never seen someone solve math problems in such a detailed and stream-lined way!”

“His grasp of language is so complex! You’d never think that he had forgotten his native tongue at all!”

“Whoa now, gentlemen-” Mitsumasa put his hand up, silencing the many overlapping voices and comments. “What exactly are you saying to me here?”

The group exchanged tentative glances before turning back to Kido with varying expressions.

“Well, we’re here to deliver our progress reports for Atsuya-san, yes?”

Mitsumasa nodded.

“We’ve all come to the same conclusion after comparing notes; your son is a genius, a master of all trades so to speak. He’s working above and beyond our expectations, and there may be a point where there won’t be much else left to teach him on your list.”

The man was, for lack of better words, completely floored. Aiolos was a genius? The warrior boy he rescued from a crater in the ground? He just couldn’t seem to grasp it, even as the tutors handed him their reports and explained the grades and marks they gave. They were all nearly perfect, excluding a few in regards to remembering specific dates and times in History, but otherwise the scores were a parent’s dream. 

Kido thanked them for their work and left the meeting room, walking down the hall apparently lost in thought. At first he wasn’t sure what to think or what to do but as he strolled onward, an obvious yet previously unconsidered option came to mind. What was stopping him from actually declaring Aiolos his heir? Sure, at some point Aiolos will leave Japan with Saori to fulfill her destiny. But what was wrong with leaving them with some added security and comfort? Surely they could use the Kido wealth for something. Even Saints would have a need for money and funding at some point.

As he thought of the options and weighed them within his mind, Tatsumi approached from the opposite end of the hall, apparently bearing urgent news. 

“Sir!” He wheezed, pausing before his master to partially double-over from exhaustion.

“Tokumaru? What’s wrong?”

Tatsumi stood up straight, sweat dripping down his face and neck. It was hard to tell if the sweat was from how he had run here or the news that he was preparing to tell. 

“We. . .We found some! Two of them by the looks of it!”

Mitsumasa’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Really? How long until they get here?”

“T-that’s the thing! They’re already here!!”

–

Aiolos stood out in what would be considered the backyard of the estate, which had been converted into an archery field at his request. Behind him was a small pavilion where Saori peacefully slept, surrounded on all ends but one with walls to prevent anyone from sneaking up on her. He stood less than two or so feet before the entrance of the pavilion, acting as a guard of sorts. He turned and pulled an arrow out of the standing quiver beside him, looking out at the row of targets.

In regards to this archery field, he was surprised that it was actually built on his own request. He didn’t actually expect anything to come of talking about it as he had offhandedly mentioned to Tatsumi that he missed practicing archery due to it being a bit of a traditional sport at Sanctuary. Despite Athena’s Saints being forbidden from using weapons, some Cloths had the capability of bearing them regardless. Cloths like the Libra and the Sagittarius, for example. Though, technically, the Sagittarius’ bow wasn’t a true weapon. The Cloth harbored no physical arrows most of the time; wearers of the armor were able to manifest golden arrows of cosmo that they fired using the armor’s bow as a sort of receptacle. Either way, he enjoyed the sport immensely and had thought that it would be impossible to safely practice it in Japan.

However, Tatsumi seemed almost excited at the prospect, and quickly commissioned the addition of the archery field before calling over a new set of tutors. This was how Aiolos learned that Japan had its own version of archery, known as kyūdō. It was utterly fascinating to him how a sport could be so different depending on where in the world it’s situated. The tutor, a kindly old man named Furusake, was knowledgeable and fun to speak with. He taught Aiolos kyūdō, but also taught him other Japanese martial arts and recommended masters for martial arts that he wasn’t fully trained in. He didn’t think that combat and martial arts was so prevalent even in normal people’s lives, but anything new could potentially benefit him later on down the line.

Aiolos drew the bow, concentrating on the targets at the end of the field. He had to be careful, if he grew sidetracked he would end up using too much strength and snap the bowstring. That was the hardest part of learning how to use normal bows, balancing the difference in weight and strength to draw the bow but not snap the string. It gave him an interesting challenge to overcome. He loosed the arrow, watching as it flew across the lane and plunged itself into the wooden target with a hollow ‘thunk’. He nocked another arrow and released, the arrow finding its place beside its sibling on the target. As he was nocking a third arrow, a presence made itself known. Two, to be exact. Very familiar presences, not in that he knew who they were, but that they exuded cosmo.

Saints.

Aiolos spun around, pointing his bow directly at the two figures that stood behind him. Well, now that he was looking at them, they weren’t standing, they were kneeling. Kneeling at the pavilion where the infant still slept.

“State your names.” Aiolos commanded, narrowing his eyes as the sun caught on the sets of armor that the two Saints wore. Panic rippled through him like lightning. How had they found him already? And how long did Sanctuary know he was here, alive?

The two Saints, unbothered by the now cosmo-infused arrow pointed at them, remained on one knee with their heads low. The Saint on the left was clad in bright red armor that wrapped around her arms, almost entirely up her legs, and across her chest. She wore a flowing white skirt with a split down the left side, which was what exposed her legs. The shoulder pads of the armor were large and dome shaped, and on her head was a band with two horn-like extensions. She had long thigh-length sky blue hair that hung loose behind her, and her features were soft and attractive. Beside her, another female Saint knelt. Unlike her red-clad companion, this Saint wore a bright silver cloth that sported knee-length boots, elbow-length arm guards, two silver bands around the upper arm, a short belt and codpiece, and a breastplate from which extended the shoulder pads that sported two long vertical appendages. She had shoulder-length white hair with a black streak down the center of her bangs. This Saint also wore a mask, signifying that she was an Amazon. The mask was the same silver as the cloth, with red markings over the eyes that extended up in slashes that resembled long eyelashes. The Saint in red did not wear a mask, however.

“Gold Saint of Sanctuary, Sagittarius of the 12 Zodiacs,” the red Saint began, her voice as soft and clear as a spring breeze, “We are Saints in service of Her Ladyship Athena. I am Sextans Marzipan, sworn Saintia of Athena and priestess of the stars.”

“I am Lepus Kafka, Amazon of the Europe Quadrant.” the other said, her voice perfectly stoic. Aiolos lowered the bow slightly, casting a suspicious gaze over the two of them.

“State your business.”

“The man named Mitsumasa Kido had discreetly put out a notice searching for Saints and Saintia on the side of Athena,” Marzipan explained, lifting her head to meet Aiolos’ eyes. He almost recoiled at the sight―bright gray eyes that seemed to pierce through his very soul. It was as if she could see through him and anything he had to say. Lying to her would be impossible, even if he tried. “He said that the babe of Sanctuary sleeps through the treachery of her crib, and any that wanted proof would have to come and find it for themselves.”

Aiolos felt himself grow angry. Wasn’t the whole point of him coming to live in Japan a way to keep the current situation a secret? If Kido was going out and telling the Saints that Athena was here, it was only a matter of time before Sanctuary found out and sent scouts to investigate what the old man was babbling about. Seemingly sensing his distress, Kafka lifted her head.

“The info he sent out was a coded message, and the only reason we answered is because Marzipan had a vision of this exact situation unfolding. She and I, here, kneeling before you and Her Ladyship. Pledging our undying loyalty.”

Aiolos blinked in confusion, looking between the two and noticing that they weren’t exuding any murderous aura. They didn’t even stand until he allowed them to. 

“The news of a traitor within Sanctuary has spread out across the other Quadrants, but not many believed it. The Gold Saints are the epitome of virtue and power. They are what every Saint aspires to be and emulate. Especially you, as next in line to be the Grand Pope.”

Marzipan approached the stroller bed which held baby Saori, gently reaching down and lifting the infant out to hold her in her arms. Apparently awake, Saori giggled and grabbed a fistful of Marzipan’s long hair and attempted to stuff it into her own mouth. The Saintia smiled, resisting the urge to cry before her goddess.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, my Lady. I’m sorry I was late in coming to serve you.” she held the child close, her resolve soon crumbling as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “My sisters in Sanctuary protected you with all they had, didn’t they? Please, bless them in their journey to the Underworld.”

Aiolos and Kafka stood in silence as the Saintia held the baby and let her tears flow. She was allowed to have that time to herself, they decided. Though, she was courteous to her companions. Turning to face Aiolos, her expression, though tear-stained, was resolute. 

“We will help you in any way we can. If we need to train more Saintia, or recruit more Saints, we will do so. Rely on us, Lord Sagittarius.”

The brunet couldn’t help but frown at the nickname. He was no lord, and he wasn’t even officially the Sagittarius Saint anymore. He was just Atsuya Kido now. But he couldn’t deny that these two came when he needed them the most. If they trusted him and believed him, then he had no reason to turn them away. 

“You guys can stay. But please, keep Athena’s identity and location as secret as possible. If Sanctuary learns about her, all of my efforts will be in vain.” Aiolos finally lowered the bow completely, slinging it over his shoulder as an open acknowledgment of goodwill. In response to his gesture, the two immediately bowed their heads again.

“Of course.”

“And another thing,” Aiolos removed his archery gloves, turning to look at them. “My name now is Atsuya Kido. Refrain from calling me Lord Sagittarius or anything of the sort while here, please.”

The two bowed again. Aiolos noted that they were far more agreeable than the Saints he was used to. Perhaps it was because they were Saints from a different quadrant, or simply because they were in the presence of Athena. Either way, he was glad for their quick and understanding nature. 

“What would you like us to do first, Atsuya?” Marzipan asked, having since wiped her tears and looked lovingly at young Athena.

Despite the time spent in Japan so far, hearing that name always gave him pause. Better than the alternative of someone using his real name, but this would certainly take some getting used to.

“First,” he replied, thinking carefully of the answer. “First, I’ll need to have a discussion with Mr. Kido.”

–

Aiolos and Mitsumasa Kido sat across from each other at a small tea table. One looked far more relaxed than the other, and while they had been sitting there for around 15 minutes, neither said a word. Which was certainly awkward for Tatsumi and the Saints who were watching.

“That was an extremely reckless thing you did.” Aiolos finally broke the silence, his furrow in his brow deepening as he frowned harder. “What if someone from Sanctuary found out? Or these two had told Sanctuary? You put everyone here at risk!”

Mitsumasa nodded softly, folding his hands in his lap. 

“What would you have done if a Gold Saint arrived? Or a group of saints? Normal humans would be useless against them!”

“I understand your anger, but I did what I needed to to find what you and Saori required. I had taken precautions, but if it had come down to it I would have handled things. I would never put you or Saori in unnecessary danger.”

“You would have handled things,” Aiolos didn’t fight the scoff that slipped from his throat. His hands gripped at his knees as his frustration mounted. “You would have handled things?! What could you have handled, Kido?!”

The older man simply sat there, showing no emotion on his face. Aiolos found the man’s apparent ignorance extremely irritating, and it was taking everything within him to not say or do something he may regret.

“Atsuya.”

The name, which Aiolos had yet to fully get used to, rumbled from Kido’s throat in a way that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. This old man, with no Cosmo or power of his own, felt incredibly intimidating all of a sudden. 

“I said it once, and I will say it again; I will never put you or Saori in unnecessary danger. You may lash out and feel any sort of emotions that you wish, but you must never doubt my word. Do you understand?”

Aiolos dug his nails into his pants, trembling in a mixture of feelings before eventually letting his muscles go lax. He didn’t forgive the man, not yet, but he knew that Mitsumasa was doing what was possible within his abilities. He’d already brought Aiolos and Athena here, protected them, and even helped them fool Sanctuary. He could be trusted, he knew that.

He. . .knew that? Didn’t he?

The silence began again, but Mitsumasa had already chalked this conversation as over. He stood and nodded to the Saints before walking past Aiolos to leave the room. However, before he fully walked past, he clapped a hand on Aiolos’ shoulder to get his attention.

“And try not to fall out of character, son. I am your father now, you need to ensure you refer to me as such.

“I would hate to have to clean up any misunderstandings should you slip up in public.” The man gave Aiolos a good-natured pat on the shoulder and walked out, with Tatsumi following close behind. It was a logical thing to say, they were playing a part and Aiolos needed to get used to things lest it cause issues. But Aiolos simply couldn’t shake off how Mitsumasa’s outwardly light tone made him feel.

It was a distinct and sudden looming sense of fear.

Chapter Text

Dinner that night was tense.

Aiolos hadn’t yet forgiven Mitsumasa for what he’d done, and he couldn’t shake that strange sense of fear that he’d felt earlier. But he couldn’t skip meals. Dinner was the time for both men to share what they’d done and learned for the day, and breakfast was the time for them to share what they were planning to do. They were important events, but Aiolos still simply could not look forward to it.

And as if the gods themselves were taunting him, it was only Mitsumasa and Aiolos at the dinner table. Marzipan refused to be away from Athena, so she took all of her meals in her room which was joined to the infant’s room. Kafka, who was there to guard Marzipan, also stayed in her room. Not that Aiolos could blame her. Amazons could not be around men casually. A single glance at their bare face, accidental or otherwise, would spell death.

Tatsumi was here, but he simply bustled about, serving the day’s dinner to the two men. He never spoke during breakfast or dinner unless he was spoken to, so there was no chance of him breaking the silence on his own.

So, there sat Atsuya and Mitsumasa. Each on opposite ends of the long dining table meant for 12, facing each other but never once making eye contact. Aiolos decided to consider that a blessing, looking down as plates were carefully set before him.

“What is on the menu today, Tokumaru?” Mitsumasa asked, adjusting a serviette across his lap. Aiolos mimicked his movements out of habit, faltering slightly once he realized what he’d done.

Tatsumi stood up straight, giving a gentle bow. “The Solo family sent a whole menu of seafood to celebrate Saori-sama’s birth, so the chefs prepared a meal of miso soup, grilled eel on a bed of vegetables, and crab fried rice with batter fried crab legs.”

Aiolos hummed in response. While seafood was nothing new to him, he always found himself amazed at the different types of foods that Japan had to offer. Though he hadn’t tried anything on that list aside from the miso soup, he found himself looking forward to it.

Once all the plates were in their rightful places and the servants ducked away, it was just Mitsumasa and Aiolos again. Sitting in silence, with only the sound of silverware clinking against plates and cups shifting across the tablecloth.

“How are you enjoying the meal, Atsuya?”

Aiolos had just brought a spoonful of fried rice to his mouth, slowly eating and chewing the morsel before responding. He spoke carefully and deliberately, just in case there were outside ears close enough to hear them. “. . .It’s very good, Father. I’ve enjoyed every dish served to me since returning to Japan.” 

Mitsumasa smiled, taking a slow sip from his cup. The liquid within was dark and smelled heavily of grapes and sour undertones. Some sort of wine, Aiolos concluded.

“Good, I told them that your pallet was probably far more accustomed to Mediterranean foods and spices, so they’ve been careful not to overload your senses. But do tell them if you prefer anything in particular.”

Aiolos brought another spoonful of rice to his mouth, chewing slowly before using a pair of chopsticks to carefully grab a piece of eel. He hadn’t mastered the art of chopsticks just yet, but they were simply enough to use to grab big items.

“Thank you for thinking of me this time.” he’d finally replied, mentally kicking himself at how passive aggressive that sounded. He honestly hadn’t meant to let his earlier disdain show again. 

“I see you’re still angry at me about our discussion earlier.”

“I’m not angry,” Aiolos quickly interjected, letting his words linger as he continued to eat. “I just wish you had warned me first. It was an important decision, and I thought we’d agreed to share things with each other.”

Mitsumasa took another sip of his wine. “I understand, and I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I thought that I was following your instructions, but I see now that I had inadvertently stepped on your toes.”

For some reason, Aiolos felt bad for being angry. He was the one who told Kido exactly what he wanted, and of course a normal nanny wouldn’t properly fall under what he asked. And it wasn’t like Kido had really done anything wrong, he covered his tracks and was as careful as possible. Even Marzipan and Kafka had taken Mitsumasa’s side.

“. . .

“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t malicious, but I can’t hide the fact that I was scared.”

“I understand. Let’s put this behind us, we’ve only been reunited for a short time and already we’ve had an argument. I don’t want to fight with you.”

Aiolos nodded softly. Nothing good would come from arguing with Mitsumasa or getting on his bad side. This man had gone above and beyond to help him and Saori. Causing problems would be like spitting in the face of his kindness.

“As long as you run these sorts of things by me first. I don’t want to be blindsided by anything like this ever again.”

“Of course, no one likes surprises,” Mitsumasa raised his glass as if to give a toast. “Let’s never argue about something so petty again.”

Aiolos lifted his own glass in response. They were too far away to clink the cups, but they still took a sip to solidify their agreement. Though something about that didn’t quite sit well with Aiolos. He hadn’t noticed it at the time but after dinner  he went to visit Saori before going to bed.

As he held the infant in his arms and replayed the conversation in his mind, it suddenly clicked to him.

It had felt like Mitsumasa didn’t actually agree to anything.

–

Saori grew just as any other child did.

The first couple of years felt like they flew by. Before Aiolos knew what was happening, she was already crawling and somewhat learning to walk. And sometimes, she even spoke words in her sweet little voice. The more he watched her, the more she reminded him of Aiolia when he was a baby. It was a solemn nostalgia that made him feel guilty.

Aiolos had to leave Aiolia behind. No matter what excuses he used, he had abandoned the only blood family he had left in this world. He couldn’t even risk contacting him or sending a letter, since it was too risky to have that information floating around. Plus there was no guarantee that Aiolia wasn’t being monitored due to Aiolos’ status as a traitor. It was too soon to reach out, but Aiolos resolved to do so once things calmed down completely.

Yes, he will send notice to Aiolia soon. And then he will beg for his brother’s forgiveness.

“Daahda~”

Aiolos turned his head to the sound, watching as Saori carefully teetered her way over to him. She was dressed in a frilly lavender gown, her shoulder-length hair brushed back a bit to rest behind her ears. 

“Saori! Have you come to see me?” he shifted to a kneeling position, allowing the child to practically tumble onto his legs. “You’re doing so well!”

Saori beamed at him, patting his thigh with her little chubby hands. “Dada eat?”

“Hmm?” Aiolos put a hand to his chin. Had he eaten today? “I guess not. . .Are you going to get some food now?”

“Mn!”

“And would it be okay if I joined you?”

“Mn!!”

Aiolos laughed, picking the girl up and cradling her in his arms. She squealed in delight, waving her little arms around as she was lifted up. Looking upon her face and seeing her smile and laugh with all the joy in the world, Aiolos couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart. Here was this girl of barely 2 years of age, this little girl who has no idea of the pain and hardship that awaits her, and he can’t force himself to look forward to her growing up.

He knows what awaits her once she comes of age. He can’t hold onto her forever. No matter how often he consoles her, no matter how many times he tells her how much he loves her, she will always grow up to be Athena.  Sweet, smiling Saori is just a girl to most people, but to Sanctuary and the Saints, she is an omen of war. A harbinger of death and pain. A cherub  hiding a bloodied scythe behind her back. 

Saori’s giggling was interrupted as droplets fell on her little face. She blinked, confused, before looking up at Aiolos. Into his eyes, the source of the strange droplets.

“Dada, rainy?” she said, reaching her little hands up to catch the tears as they fell from his lashes.

Aiolos hadn’t meant to cry, least of all in front of her. But her gentle touch and overflowing warmth ebbed the pain in his heart.

“I’m sorry, Saori,” he chuckled, wiping the rest of his tears away. “I was just thinking of the future.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, her large eyes almost looking through him with how intent she was. He’d almost worried that she would know what he’s referring to, that maybe the Athena part of her was aware and could sense his discomfort.

“No rainy, dada.” the toddler soothed, to which Aiolos couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yes dear, no more raining. I promise.” he gently nuzzled her, rubbing their cheeks together a bit. Much to the delight of Saori. “Now, let’s go and have our meal.”

–

After having lunch with Saori, Aiolos had met with Kafka for one of their monthly progress reports. 

In front of him lay 14 newspapers from across the perimeter closest to Sanctuary as well as a bundle of handwritten parchment. Like a creature of habit, Aiolos picked up each newspaper and skimmed through it, before setting it aside. Then he read through each piece of parchment, flipping them over when he was done.

Kafka stood beside his chair, waiting for his verdict.

“Nothing.” Aiolos finally declared, flipping the last parchment piece. “Two years, and there’s been no movement of any kind.”

“That’s a good thing, no?” Kafka replied, tilting her head ever so slightly.

“That remains to be seen. . .” 

Two years since the “death” of Aiolos and the disappearance of the Sagittarius Cloth, and yet there’s been no word from Sanctuary. At first Aiolos was glad. This meant their plan had worked and he was safe. But the silence soon unnerved him. What was the Pope waiting for? Could he perhaps have known something was amiss and was biding his time?

Every month, Aiolos advises Kafka to update him on the affairs of Sanctuary and any other Saint Quadrant that was moving suspiciously. He even had her gather newspapers from Greece; though Sanctuary and its Saints were a secret, they still had ways of leaving coded messages within news print when they needed something. But no matter how many newspapers he checked, there were no coded messages. And none of the other Quadrants had done anything in support of helping Sanctuary find the missing Cloth. Aiolos sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It all felt anticlimactic. It did absolutely nothing to assuage his fears.

“If you’d like, I can travel to Sanctuary personally. There are a few Amazons there who would be willing to speak with me about any internal affairs.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No, we can’t make the first move. For all we know, that’s exactly what they’re waiting for.” 

Kafka said nothing in response, but Aiolos could tell she was concerned for his mental state. He always stresses himself out for these meetings, expecting the worst but being met with absolutely nothing to show for it. The silence let his mind wander, and he’d even started missing sleep, wondering what was looming over his shoulder or watching him from just out of reach. If this continues, Aiolos might end up being more mentally worse for wear than he first expected.

“I think you should take a break.” 

The two Saints turned to the source of the voice, seeing Mitsumasa at the door with a tray of cups and a teapot. He wants to have a long conversation it seems , Aiolos thought to himself. Beside him, Kafka stepped back to leave. He gave her a subtle glance, and she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t intrude in family matters.” she said matter-of-factly. “I will continue to do research on my end.”

Aiolos nodded, deciding not to force her to stay. 

“Did you learn anything new?” Mitsumasa asked, sitting across from the other man. He began to prepare the tea and Aiolos noted that Mitsumasa had only brought two cups. As if he knew Aiolos would be alone in some regard.

“What can I do for you today, M― Father?” Aiolos took a sip of tea, washing away his error. Luckily it was just the two of them, but you could never be too sure.

“I’ve come to advise you that the Saintia program is soon to be in full effect.”

Aiolos glanced up at the other, taking another pensive sip. “. . .You’ve prepared it already?”

“Indeed. Thanks to the help of your Amazon friends, we’ve set up three schools for gifted young ladies. Of course there are plans to extend to other quadrants down the line.”

He lowered his tea cup. This was no surprise to the man, he and Mitsumasa had discussed this nearly 7 months ago. An academy to train more Saintia, disguised as a normal all-girls school. Aiolos was against it, of course, but Kafka and Marzipan handled all of the negotiations with the Saint Quadrants and actually gained approval to convert the schools to a training ground, complete with hiring real Amazons and Saintia to help with the curriculum. The only problem is once the schools get off the ground, Kafka will leave the Kido manor to help with managing them.

Aiolos wasn’t looking forward to losing her camaraderie.

“Once we get a few girls properly trained, we can dismiss Miss Marzipan as well.” Mitsumasa added, as if compounding on Aiolos’ thoughts.

“Very well, but you didn’t have to go out of your way to tell me this. A simple letter would have worked as well.”

“Yes, but this was not the only reason why I wanted to speak with you. I have another proposition I wish to share, and I hope you’ll be as excited about it as I am.”

“Oh?”

In the two short years that he’d known Mitsumasa Kido, Aiolos was acutely aware at how little the man seemed to care about expenses or excess. If he wanted something, or wanted to do something, he would do it no matter what it took. In some ways, he and Kido were alike. But it didn’t stop him from being a tad worried about what the man was planning.

“I would like to prepare and train the next generation of Saints.”

“You mean Amazons? I’m sure your school will handle that as well.”

“No, son. I mean Saints, like you were.” Mitsumasa reiterated, leaning back in his chair. “Saori will need a group of trustworthy Saints to serve her once she comes of age. I believe it would be easiest to cultivate them ourselves rather than risking an outsource situation. And of course, I’d like for you to oversee the training and give your two cents.”

Well this was certainly new. Aiolos had sworn that they were only going to raise Saintia, due to the majority of them dying at the hands of the Grand Pope. He didn’t really have much of a problem with training new Saints, after all there was no telling what Sanctuary is telling other quadrants. If they can secure loyalty, then he had no reason to refute the idea.

“I guess I wouldn’t have any objections, but to train Saints is an extremely arduous and time consuming task. And there’s no guarantee that the trainees will survive, let alone claim a Cloth.” Aiolos shook his head. “I’m just worried your excitement will be for nothing.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve already got my eyes on some information that will help us raise our success rate. At the very least, I predict nearly 30 or 40 boys to survive the training. As long as you’re there to help them prepare.”

Of course, Aiolos had trained boys before while he was at Sanctuary. While he didn’t know where those boys were now, at the very least he was confident he gave them the tools necessary to go far. If he could help more boys, which would in turn help to guarantee Saori’s safety, then he would do anything.

“Well? What do you say?”

Mitsumasa looked onward with an expectant gaze, but there was no doubt in him that Aiolos would agree. Even he would be able to see the benefits to this program, just as he had with the Saintia schools.

“I’ll help in any way that I can.” he confirmed, eliciting a delighted huff from the older man. “But how are you planning to scout Saints? Usually any promising talent will have long since been found by other quadrants?”

“Don’t worry about that, I knew you would agree.” Mitsumasa chuckled, folding his hands. “I’ve already begun the preparations.”

Chapter Text

Camus never truly cared for having frivolous hobbies.

As a Gold Saint, there was no room for such things in his life. He woke up, he trained, and then he went to bed. A monotonous existence, but it worked just fine for him. Camus had been trained to only focus on what was necessary, and his simple yet quiet life was something he appreciated. 

And yet, he never had a truly quiet day again, not after the betrayal and subsequent death of Aiolos.

Camus had been called back to Sanctuary in the dead of night, not something that was out of the ordinary, but it was the urgency and timing that concerned him. Athena had been reborn not long before; to call back the Saints must’ve meant something awful had happened.  

The Grand Pope spun a heart wrenching tale; Aiolos had snapped due to the pressure of his training to become Pope and lashed out, attacking Saintia and even the Pope himself. It was only after Aiolos raised his hand against Athena herself that the alarm was sounded.

“I had hoped to talk him down from his rampage,” the Pope explained after being asked why he’d waited so long to call for help, “This was entirely out of the realm of what we expected Aiolos to be capable of. However, it was all for naught.”

Camus found that odd. 

Something about the Pope’s version of events felt extremely random. Out of place, even. The turquoise-haired man hadn’t known Aiolos very well. In fact, they rarely spoke and ran into each other far less than that. But he knew of him, and what he knew was that Aiolos was a very highly respected and perfect man. Though no one can truly be perfect, he’d never once heard anyone refer to Aiolos as anything different. Even Saga had sung Aiolos’ praises, and the two had essentially grown up together.

Subtly, Camus’ eyes darted to the other side of the room where the Gemini Saint normally stood during these gatherings, but saw the spot empty. 

Saga would never willingly miss a gathering. . .

Perhaps Aiolos’ betrayal hurt him far more than Camus had first expected. However, that made the other’s choices all the more confusing.

As Camus mentally debated the strange feelings that swirled within him, he failed to notice a different set of eyes watching him.

–

“What were you thinking so hard about during the meeting?”

Camus looked up from his parchments, immediately locking eyes with the owner of the voice. A man with fluffy aubergine hair and a wide, almost smug grin on his face. 

“. . .Milo.”

“Camus!” Milo’s grin spread a bit wider. “What’s going on? Something rotten with your polar bears and snow caps?”

He’d opened his mouth to respond, but when he saw the amused look on the other’s face, Camus immediately scowled. “. . .That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” Milo took his place at Camus’ side, looking over his shoulder at the parchments. Camus tried to hide the papers from his sight, but he knew Milo only needed to glance at it to know the contents. For his credit, Milo could read faster than most people, even Camus himself. No matter how fast Camus could move, Milo’s eyes would’ve already read plenty. 

“Camus, what-” he began, blinking in surprise as Camus clapped a hand over his mouth. One look, exchanged between silent eyes, and Milo subtly nodded his understanding. Slowly, the Aquarius lowered his hand.

The two stood in silence as Camus folded up the parchments and tucked them into his armor breastplate, aiming to burn them at his earliest convenience. Admittedly he hadn’t expected any further conversation, so he had turned to leave when he felt a tug on his arm.

“Wait-” Milo breathed out, an expression of worry glossing over his features. “After everything that happened, if they see-”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Camus yanked his arm out of the other’s grip, steeling his gaze. “I was simply going over the information from the meeting. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

There was no point in explaining himself further. The last thing he wanted was to drag Milo into this, especially since all Camus had to go off of was a feeling. An inkling that something was wrong and no concrete proof. No, he can’t risk that.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.”

Camus blinked, stupefied at the words that escaped Milo’s mouth. Safe? He wants him to be safe ? Safety was a luxury for them; a Saint can die at any time. To harbor such useless feelings was exactly why Camus preferred to be alone. He couldn’t imagine worrying so fruitlessly over someone who was destined to always be in harm's way.

And yet when he looked into the other’s eyes, those clear, blue eyes that never betrayed any truths, that always looked directly at Camus no matter the situation, the Aquarius felt something within him treacherously stir.

“I promise.” He’d said almost on autopilot, immediately kicking himself mentally. 

Milo smiled, but Camus could see that the gesture didn’t reach those eyes of his. Perhaps he knew how Camus really felt, but appreciated the words no matter how truthful they were.

“Well! You promised, so I’m gonna hold you to it!” The Scorpio tilted his head back and laughed, leaning into Camus’ mistake so he couldn’t argue against it. “If you end up doing something dangerous, I reserve the right to nag you until the end of time!”

“That isn’t fair…” Camus muttered, glancing over at Milo. He was bathed in the warm midday sunlight, giving him an ethereal look. From the angle Camus was standing, the other’s hair looked almost golden; a deep, flaming wash of yellows and oranges, like he had flames on his head instead of hair. He’d found himself staring, drawn to the color but fearing its warmth.

This was dangerous, he’d decided. Briskly turning to leave yet again, Milo stopped him. Yet again.

“At the very least, don’t work yourself too hard,” he’d said, his grin returning. “Take your armor off sometimes, let yourself breathe. Get a hobby or two!”

Camus’ gaze lingered on the other for a heartbeat too long. He shook his head and once again pulled away from the other’s grasp, this time leaving Sanctuary with no further distractions.

–

Camus never truly cared for having frivolous hobbies. 

And yet here he was, sitting in a theatre in Novosibirsk, watching a ballet performance. A frivolous hobby indeed.

Admittedly, he hadn’t sought out the theatre. He wasn’t even truly planning to come into the city like this, but after returning from Sanctuary Camus felt more drained than usual. After burning the parchments in his wood stove, he removed his armor and prepared some coffee. As the kettle boiled, he went about checking his mail over the last few days.

All of the important mail is sent differently due to the sensitive nature of Sanctuary, but that didn’t mean all of his mail came at the same time. One of the many fliers that got stuffed into his mailbox was a promo for a Russian ballet troupe that had apparently become popular overnight. Camus was going to throw the mail away, but his eyes kept getting drawn to the flier. 

Let yourself breathe.

. . .

And so, Camus sat in the theatre. The troupe had been performing different plays throughout the season, but the current showing was Swan Lake. The man knew next to nothing about theatre and plays, but he had some basic knowledge of Swan Lake. A tragedy, where a maiden is cursed to be a swan and only a pure vow of true love can break the spell. As far as Camus recalled, the story ended with the maiden and her prince unable to live happily ever after and dying as a result.

He was pleasantly surprised to see, as the acts progressed, that he had remembered the story correctly. The tragedy of Odette and Siegfried, the miscommunication and treachery that led to the death of innocents.

Camus found himself likening the story to that of the Saintia and Aiolos. Innocent maidens who lost their lives because of the actions of a man, only for him to lose his life as well.

Before he knew it, the curtains fell and the crowd erupted into applause. The play had ended, and Camus was left to digest the narrative as the theatre cleared out for the next showing.

He only exited once the theatre was completely empty, having spent the time gathering his thoughts. Perhaps Aiolos was just like Siegfried, a simple and well-meaning man who was cruelly tricked. That was how Camus saw it from the information he gleaned, at the very least. There was simply no way someone like Aiolos would betray Athena and Sanctuary. Not unless he was a man possessed. But to question the narrative would be to side with a branded traitor. To brand yourself a traitor as well.

Camus walked out of the theatre hall, sticking his hands into his coat pockets as he looked up to the sky. The sun was setting and though Novosibirsk was a city with plenty of light pollution, stars were still visible. It wasn’t as clear as the night sky he would see from his cabin, but it still drew him in. He’d lost himself in his star-gazing for so long that when he finally snapped back to reality, the sun had fully set and the city lights sprung to life. Rows of tall lights formed parallel lines down the streets ahead of the theatre.

“Artificial stars. . .” Camus mumbled to himself, eliciting a giggle from someone behind him. He blinked in confusion, turning and looking down at the figure that had joined him, a small woman. When had she appeared?

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh,” she loosed another breathy chuckle, her cheeks and nose tinted pink from the cold Siberian air. “I had seen you standing here for a while, so I had come to see what you were staring at. Were you referring to the light posts?”

Camus nodded gently.

“They do look like stars, now that you mention it. Closer to earth, close enough to touch, but not quite as fun to stare at.” the woman smiled, looking to Camus for a reaction. Was she expecting a response? 

He simply stared at her, trying to decipher what question she had asked that would warrant a reply when she laughed again, this time louder than before. 

“You’re so strange! I made a joke, you know? Or was that not to your humor?”

Camus scrunched his nose, causing the girl to laugh again.

“You seem to be easily amused. You remind me of someone I know.” he grunted, glancing down at her face. The woman was very objectively pretty, even while hiding underneath all of her layers of clothing. From what he could see, she had striking blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Very similar to a certain someone indeed. Though she was familiar in other ways as well. Camus swore that he’d seen her before, but where..?

At the woman’s side was a white duffle bag with a logo on its side; an image of a ballerina. As he studied her a bit more, it suddenly clicked in his brain as he remembered the building he was currently loitering in front of. He knew now why she was so familiar, he’d just spent the last three hours watching her perform.

“You’re Odette.”

She looked surprised, unable to suppress another chuckle. She laughs a lot , Camus noted to himself. 

“You must be a huge ballet fan to recognize me out of costume!” 

Camus grimaced. Was it truly so hard to recognize a face? She was so striking, it’d be harder NOT to recognize her….

“What’s your name, funny man?” ‘Odette’ tilted her head, smiling expectantly. 

“. . .

“Camus.”

“Camus. . .” she parroted, as if rolling the word over her tongue to get a feel for it. “Yes, that suits you very much. Camus, the funny man!”

He huffed indignantly. “And your name? Don’t tell me it’s actually Odette.”

“Of course not!” she nudged him with her shoulder, but she was so small and light, he’d barely registered the gesture. She reminded him of a small bird.  “Though it would be great for business if it was truly my name.”

Camus raised an eyebrow, staring at her. Realizing she hadn’t properly answered him, she waved her hand in apology.

“Sorry, sorry! That was rude of me, I wasn’t trying to ignore your question.

“My name is Natassia!”

–

Natassia was an exhausting ball of energy.

After their discussion on the steps of the theatre, she’d asked to see Camus again. At first he denied, stating he was a busy man who lived far from the city, but she insisted. And for some reason, looking into those bright, honest eyes of hers made it hard for him to stand firm. What was it with blue eyes that swayed him so. . .?

Camus found himself coming to Novosibirsk every other day to appease Natassia’s childlike personality. It was such a stark difference, her gracefulness and poise on stage versus her loud and jubilant cadence in public. Like looking at two different people. 

As they spoke more, Camus learned that she had plenty of other roles she played aside from Odette. As the seasons changed and plays were switched out, she always invited him to opening night.

“Harlequinade. . .? I am not a fan of comedies.” Camus mused as he stood in Natassia’s dressing room. She was applying some light makeup, but was dressed in a simple outfit and lacked an over the top or colorful costume like some of the other danseurs. Camus thought it was a waste of Natassia’s striking looks, but he was certain she would draw crowds even if she wore just a potato sack.

“Camus, are you a fan of anything ?” Natassia smiled as she dabbed blush on her cheeks. When the man openly ignored her remark, she laughed. “It shouldn’t matter if you like the content or not, it should be enough that you want to support me!”

“You do not need the support.”

“How heartless! If you make me cry now, it’ll ruin my makeup!”

“Then don’t cry.”

Natassia laughed, clear and jovial. As if she was a ball of innocence, untouched and unaware. She truly did remind him of a bird, free to live and go as she pleased. He wondered if he envied that freedom.

“If you want to leave, you can! Coming to visit me is support enough, I won’t force you to sit and watch.”

“I’ll stay,” he replied quickly, crossing his arms. “But not because I want to watch. It’d just be a hassle to return home after coming all the way here.”

The ballerina paused, staring at his face before grinning wide. Their time together had been brief, but she learned to read between the lines relatively quickly when it came to Camus. Maybe it was because of her work in acting, but she could always see right through him. She felt like a miniature version of Milo, he’d realized. They would get along so well.

Perhaps next time, Camus will introduce the two.

–

One day, Natassia invited Camus out as she always had. However, there were no plays scheduled for the day; instead she wanted to spend a normal day with him. Camus agreed, as long she didn’t drag him anywhere strange.

They explored the town together, window shopping and having lunch at a small cafe near the edge of town. It was nice, subdued. But Camus could not shake the odd feeling that hovered over Natassia. She had been smiling, but her expression hadn’t once reached her eyes that day.

“Camus,” Natassia had said once they received their food, taking a slow sip of her sbiten. “I’ll be leaving Russia soon.”

He paused in stirring his tea momentarily, before continuing as if nothing had happened. 

“. . .Moving away?” he asked, his jaw tight for some reason. Attributing it to the cold, he quickly took a sip of the warm tea.

Natassia shook her head. “Not moving, not really. The troupe is going on an international tour, and I will have to go with them. I am their prima ballerina, after all!” Another half-smile.

“And why are you telling me this?”

Natassia winced, as if struck. Camus bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh with her, there was no reason to be so upset. This was her job, and just as swiftly as she had entered his life, she would be leaving again. He knew this, and yet still his chest ached. This was why he hated forming bonds; where was the benefit in feeling such a way over something as fleeting as words? 

When he returned home, he would double, no no, triple his training.

“I’m telling you because I know you won’t be able to come with me,” she whispered, wrapping both hands around her mug. “You’ve been my only source of comfort here, my truest friend. My big brother. And now we must part. I’m worried you’ll be lonely without me.” One of her subtle jokes, but the glassy shimmer of her eyes betrayed her true feelings on the matter. 

She would miss him just as much as he would her.

Camus and she both knew that he could promise her nothing; he had to stay in Siberia in case Sanctuary calls. He could not devote time and distance for her, no matter how much he cared for her. Natassia may not have known the details, but she knew there was something that took precedence in his life.

“I will not miss you,” he lied, bringing his cup to his lips. “Do not shackle yourself to me. Go and fly, ptichka.”

And when you return home to roost, I will be here waiting for you.

A promise unspoken, but both seemed to understand. 

“This is not goodbye,” she choked out, wiping the budding tears in her eyes with the back of her hand. “You hear me? This is not goodbye, I’ll be back before you know it! You’d better not replace me in the meantime!”

“The mark you have left on me is indelible, ptichka. I could not replace you even if I tried.”

“Not even with your special friend that you’ve yet to introduce me to?”

Camus nearly spat his tea.

“. . .

“You and Milo are two very different people, yet you both excel in getting on every one of my nerves. He cannot replace you, and you cannot replace him.”

Natassia smiled, leaning her chin on her hand.

“Have you ever told him that?” she wondered aloud, tracing her finger along the rim of her mug. “I’m sure he’d be really happy to hear that from you. Knowing how emotionally constipated you are, he probably has no idea of your true feelings―”

“Don’t you have a trip to pack for.”

–

Natassia left Russia on the 2nd Sunday of November. 

For nearly a year, she’ll travel the world and dazzle theatre goers every step of the way. Camus was finally able to return to his quiet life yet again.

And yet as he meditated and trained, day after day, falling back into his usual routine, there was a notable longing that crept up on him whenever he was in total silence.

Total silence; a former comfort that now made him anxious.

Natassia was traveling the world. Milo was off somewhere, busy with his duties. Camus sat alone in his cabin in the middle of Siberia, and for the first time in a long time he was well and truly alone.

It… saddened him.

The monotony of his days returned, the ebb and flow of his prior routines settling in again, and his life ticked by. He didn’t bother going to Novosibirsk, because there was nothing awaiting him there. He thought about returning to Sanctuary for some time, but Milo was not there either. Camus was like a frozen meteorite that had flown too close to two burning suns. Not close enough to be destroyed, but just close enough to have the frost that he’d spent years building up melt away completely. Now that those two suns were out of his range, he was missing the warmth. And he didn’t have his former layer of ice to protect him.

He almost didn’t wish to have it, not if it meant forgetting. But he had no choice. Camus could not afford to remain vulnerable. So over the next year, he reformed his shield of ice. He hardened his heart and broke the chains of attachment that clung to him, and for a time, everything returned to normal.

Camus felt normal again. 

Yes, normalcy settled in again and he was finally comfortable in his own skin. That is, until ten months later.

On the tenth month since her departure, Natassia returned to Russia. 

When Camus heard the news, he’d dropped everything to return to Novosibirsk. The frozen shield that he rebuilt began to melt the closer he got to the city. And at the train station, when he laid eyes on her again, it was as if nothing had ever really changed. 

“Ptichka.”

Natassia turned around so quickly she lost her balance, stumbling over her own two feet. Camus reached out and grabbed her, holding her to his chest.

“A clumsy ballerina is a tad on the nose, don’t you think.”

She laughed aloud, that familiar sound as clear as ringing bells. “You made a joke! You strange man, who are you and what have you done to my big brother??” 

A ghost of a smile danced at the corner of his lips, using one arm to help her hand upright. Though, there was something different about her. She was wearing larger clothing than before, it seemed. Camus tilted his head, at first wondering if her time away from Russia had made her more susceptible to cold, until his eyes reached her abdomen.

Her very swollen abdomen. 

His eyes snapped up to meet her now sheepish gaze.

“Uhm, surprise?” 

–

“I just want to know his name. Is he one of your troupe members?”

“No Camus! You’ll kill him, I’ve seen how strong you are!”

Natassia tried in vain to hold Camus back, but he dragged her along as if she weighed no more than a hamster. After learning she was pregnant, and subsequently alone and unwed, Camus had offered to find her paramour and have some words with him.

Whether or not the words would be of the verbal variety was yet to be seen.

Eventually, she’d convinced Camus to sit down and listen to her story. During her travels, the troupe had gone to Japan for a spell. It was during this short time that she had met a man, and formed a fleeting relationship with him. However, when it was time for her troupe to move on, she left and didn’t learn she was with child until they were already long gone.

“It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a week of passion in a new city,” she’d explained, shaking her head. “It was my fault for not being careful, and I didn’t have the heart to terminate the pregnancy. I figured this was a good point to take a break from ballet. To stay here, in town. Raise a family, and perhaps go into a different line of work.”

Camus furrowed his brow. Natassia loved ballet, and she was very good at it. From the sounds of it, she had been pregnant nearly her entire overseas tour and performed as much as she could until the demands and the changes in her body became too much to handle. But to fully retire?

“You don’t need to give up ballet. I’m sure there are other ballerinas who become mothers and continue their careers.”

“Mm, but I’ll be a single mother. And I want to be there for my baby. The troupe is planning to incorporate more overseas trips, and I don’t want to travel around the world with a little infant!”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Natassia reached over and pat his hand, smiling. 

“I’ll be okay. And I have you to help if things get rough!”

Camus frowned at that. He knew nothing about children, and even if he did, he couldn’t take care of any without them taking them on as students. The last thing he wanted was to expose Natassia’s child to the life of a Saint.

He didn’t even like having her so close. She was family, and if something happened to her because of how close she was to Camus― No, this needed to end.

“Natassia,”

She froze, not used to hearing her name come out of Camus’ mouth.

“We cannot continue this.”

“What-? Is this because of the baby? Or because I asked for your hel―”

Camus shook his head. “I told you before that I have a dangerous line of work. Just being close to you was irresponsible of me. But now that you are with child, I can’t risk being around you, either of you. If my enemies found out about you, about my weakness, they will come to harm you.

“For all of us, it would be better if we put distance between us.”

She was heartbroken, of course. Of course, she’d come home to see her family, and he was turning her away. It was cruel of him, but he had already been too lenient. Too soft. He couldn’t put a child in danger now, not on top of everything else. The Pope had already been a bit wary of him after he’d somehow found out that Camus had been investigating Aiolos’ death. Now was the worst possible time for it to come out that he had family, something that could be used against him.

And so, Camus bid his farewells to Natassia and left. Despite her cries and pleas, he walked on. He dared not turn around, lest his already shaky resolve shatter.

He left her there, and further secluded himself. Just as he had when she left, he threw himself into his training. Natassia returning simply proved that his prior training was ineffective. If the sight of her was enough to revert him, then he needed to work harder.

Camus needed to be infallible, he needed to be stronger, he needed to be distant. This was for the greater good of everyone, he’d decided on his own. The farther Natassia is, the safer she becomes. She may be angry and hurt now, but she’ll come to understand. The life of a Saint would only hurt her, in more ways than one. 

In the sixth year after meeting Natassia, Camus had returned to his former glory. He had wished he could say that he had forgotten the little bird that once danced so beautifully in his life over the years, but Natassia never gave up on him. She sent him letters throughout the years; speaking of her life, her career, and even her son. 

I’d thought of naming him after you, she’d written in a letter one day, but then people would think he was your son! You’re his uncle, you know! I hope you’ll come to see him one day.

Another day, a new letter arrived.

I decided to name him Hyoga. It means glacier in his father’s native tongue. I think it fits, he’s just a little baby but he has quite the glare! It’s like he downloaded your temperament from my memories!

Hyoga is turning 3 soon! Isn’t that so exciting? I think he’s interested in ballet, I caught him mimicking some dances from my old tapes! Perhaps he’ll be as famous as I was!

Hyoga fell into a lake the other day! I was so terribly worried, but he didn’t actually seem too worse for wear. Actually, he seems really resistant to the cold. I wonder who he got that from? I shake like a leaf without at least two coats on!

Camus never once responded. And yet, the amount of letters never decreased.

One day, a new letter came. For some reason, Camus was drawn to it. He grabbed the envelope and popped it open, unfolding the contents within.

Camus, I hope this letter finds you well. Hyoga’s father found me somehow, he wants to meet his son! Isn’t that wonderful? I was worried his father would have wanted nothing to do with him, but he seems so excited, he even mentioned marriage. . . I’ll be getting on a steam liner soon to travel to Japan. It’s been 6 years since I last saw you. I don’t even know if you read these letters, but I want you to know I’m not angry with you.

You’re still my big brother, and I love you. I hope one day, when your job is less dangerous, you’ll swallow your self-sacrificing nature and visit me in Japan. The ship will set sail 8 days from now. I want to see you before I leave. But I won’t force you.

If we don’t meet at the docks, then I’ll give you my farewells now. But this isn’t goodbye! Not forever!

Yours always,

Ptichka

For the first time in years, Camus’ heart wavered. He had thought about going to the departure, but decided against it. It wasn’t goodbye, as she always said. Once she settled in Japan, perhaps he would find the time to visit. He had all the time in the world to see her. 

Or so he thought.

6 years after he and Natassia lost contact, just 2 days after she left for her new life in Japan, the steam liner she’d boarded sank. She did not survive.

Her son had survived, according to the letter he’d received as next of kin (he wasn’t even aware she’d named him as next of kin), but the boy had been brought to Japan, probably by his father.

The letter froze as he read to the end, shattering into glittering fractals as he clenched his hand. 

Natassia was dead. He’d distanced himself, broke her heart, but for what? If she was destined to die anyways, why had he been so cautious with her? He should’ve just been her family, as she wanted. Had he known that she would die young, he would have done anything to keep her safe.

His little sister, his ptichka, had returned to the stars before her time. 

Camus looked to the sky, searching for anything. A reason, a sign; anything. But there was nothing there for him. He had 6 years to make things right, and he lost his chance.

After all this time, he learnt regret. The pain in his chest extended to his limbs, down to his fingertips. It hurt. It hurt so terribly that he hugged himself, gripping his arms so tight that he could feel his fingers through his armor.

As he sat on an iceberg near his cabin, it felt as though time began to slow. His regrets, his pain, it all exuded out of him. His Cosmo burned so deeply that it felt as if he were freezing everything around him. Perhaps if he froze everything in place, he could lock himself in time. The air around him began to grow heavy and stagnant, and even the water below and clouds above started to slow to a stop.

Yes, if he could stay like this forever―

A gentle nudge at his side jostled him from his thoughts. It was so subtle that he almost didn’t notice it, but it was the familiarity that broke him from his reverie. It was like when Natassia wanted to get his attention, her small and delicate frame nudging him with her shoulder. He looked around and saw, knew , that he was alone, but that simple gesture grounded him. 

Camus released his hold on his Cosmo, the resulting shockwave shifting the massive body of ice below him and blowing the clouds apart. If he had held it any longer, the resulting damage would have been too much to ignore.

Looking up to a now clear sky, the stars were fully visible. This far from the city, there was no light pollution to dim them and they shone as if they knew that. Camus’ eyes lidded as he mentally traced the constellations, however he froze as one stood out in particular.

The constellation of Cyngus.

The Swan.

“Ptichka. . .” Camus mumbled, recalling the play that led him to Natassia in the first place. The tragedy of lovers, the death of the innocent little bird. A forewarning of events to come, he realized far too late.

“Goodnight, Odette.”

And as if in response, the stars grew just a bit brighter.

Chapter Text

To be born under a cursed star is the worst fate one could end up with. To be labeled a pariah at birth, with no one by your side. It is a long, lonely, and hateful existence. 

When Ikki was born, his already frail mother became ill. His father blamed him for it, despite Ikki never asking to be born. He’d never asked his mother to risk her health to give birth to him. If it was truly so dangerous, he should have never been born at all. That was one of the first thoughts that permeated in his mind.

I should not have been born.

When his mother came to be with child again, little Ikki was only two years and some change old. So, so young. But he understood so much. He knew more than most other kids his age. He knew that once his mother had the baby, she would only get sicker. And his father will blame that baby too.

Though that never came to pass; his father grew fed up one day. He couldn’t handle the pressure of a sick wife, a young child and one more on the way. The man had reached his breaking point, even Ikki in his young age could see that. So when his father left in the middle of the night one day, Ikki knew it was because of how tired he was.

That was the last time Ikki ever saw his father.

His mother, bless her soul, gave birth to yet another healthy baby boy. Yet just as Ikki had predicted, she became sick just as she had when he was born. She didn’t want to leave her bed; she stayed home at all times and barely took care of her sons.

Ikki began to harbor a hatred for her. For her, and his father. A man who abandons his family, and a woman who had children despite the risks and won’t even care for them. He was a baby himself, and yet he had to take care of his newborn brother.

Mother hadn’t even named the child. She was so distraught from childbirth and the grief of Father running away that she couldn’t even process the existence of the baby. She had mumbled some group of words, and one of them sounded interesting to Ikki.

Shun.

He decided he would refer to the baby as Shun.

–

Finding food was harder now that there was a baby to feed.

Shun was so little, he didn’t even have teeth yet. Babies need milk, but he barely even had anything to feed himself. 

The neighboring families were godsends in that sense; they knew of Mother’s plight and the disappearance of Father. Every so often they would send food and money to them. It wasn’t much, but it was good enough. Despite how much he hated his mother, she still had to eat just as he and Shun did. So every day Ikki followed the same pattern.

In the morning, he would gather up all of the ingredients in the house; some misshapen or bruised veggies, soon-to-expire meats and dairy, simple  spices, and stale bread. One of the neighbors had given him a can of formula for Shun, so the first thing he would do is prepare a bottle for him. After that, he'd spend the next couple of hours carefully preparing a large pot of  cream stew; enough to last them the next week or so. Depending on the amount of leftover or damaged groceries he’d receive, Ikki could make the stew feed him and his mother twice a day for around 8 or 9 days.

He went through this routine for nearly 3 months, preparing stew, feeding his mother and Shun, and then taking care of himself last. Day in and day out this continued, and eventually the anger within Ikki subsided. He was too tired, too busy to be angry. He had two people to take care of, he couldn’t afford to waste time on being angry.

On a bright and sunny Saturday morning, Ikki had gone upstairs to bring Mother her breakfast. She’d been eating less lately, and looking more gaunt as the days dragged on. It concerned him; she wasn’t eating, so it was a waste of food. And she was risking her health further. He’d resolved to force her to finish her breakfast if he had to.

Ikki stood on his tip-toes to open the bedroom door, seeing his mother laying on the bed as she always was. Her window was open for some reason, a slight breeze flowing in and causing the curtains to billow gently. Odd, he had made sure her window was closed the night before.

He set the tray of food on the nightstand and pulled over a stool to climb up and close the window. Ikki was a little annoyed that she had gotten up just to open the window, but it did get stuffy in her room sometimes. Perhaps she just wanted some fresh air.

Ikki moved the stool away from the window and brought it over to the bed, sitting down and taking the tray into his lap.

“Mama,” he murmured, his voice gravelly with exhaustion. “It’s time for breakfast.” 

“. . .

“Mama, breakfast.”

The woman did not stir from her slumber.

Growing angry now, Ikki put the tray aside and leaned over the bed to gently shake her awake, but he noticed how pale and still she looked. As if she weren’t even alive.

“Mama?” He gently shook her shoulders, but still she did not move. She was cold to the touch, her skin was clammy and her lips were blue. No matter how many times he shook her, she did not move.

Tears stung at his eyes.

“Mama, is it my fault?” Ikki whispered, climbing into the bed and curling up under her arm. She was so, so cold. But maybe if he warmed her up, she’ll be okay again. “Are you mad at me? Don’t be mad, mama. I’m sorry.

“ I’m sorry. ”

Ikki stayed with her all day, but Mother did not wake up. Shun started to cry from the other room, but Ikki couldn’t just leave Mother. She needed him. She was so, so cold. So weak.

Shun’s crying must’ve disturbed the neighbors, because eventually there was a bunch of steady knocks on the door followed by voices Ikki didn’t recognize. 

Ikki almost didn’t want to leave the bed, but he knew he had to. He climbed over Mother and headed down to the front door. 

“Who is it?” Ikki called, pulling a chair over to look through the peephole. He saw two people on the other side of the door, a man and a woman. They were dressed in strange matching blue uniforms.

“We’re the police,” the man said, his voice gentle and slow. “I’m Officer Hagihawa, and my partner is Officer Suzuki. Your neighbors called us, they said it was odd to hear the baby cry for so long. We thought he was home alone. Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

Ikki wiped the tears from his eyes. “I couldn’t check on him right away, Mama won’t eat or talk to me. I think she’s mad at me.”

“Honey, can you get your mama for us? Tell her that the police want to speak to her.”

“Mama won’t talk or move. She was so cold, I had to lay with her to warm her up. It didn’t work though. . .” he sniffled, and the officers gave each other a glance before Suzuki leaned towards the door.

“Do you think you can open the door and let us in? We can help your mama, but we need to see what’s wrong with her.”

Ikki thought it over. He was always told to never open the door for strangers, but he knew the police were supposed to be good strangers. However, he had to be certain.

“I’m not supposed to let strangers in. Are you good strangers or bad strangers?”

“We’re the police, we’re good strangers.” Hagihawa held his badge up to the peephole. “This badge is my proof. We help tons of little boys just like you every day. Please, let us in.”

He’d never seen a badge before. It was shiny, and fancy looking. Ikki decided these two really were good strangers and hopped off the chair, unlocking the door for them. They walked into the house and immediately started looking around.

“Honey, where is your mama?” Suzuki asked, kneeling down to Ikki’s height. He pointed to a door down the hall, and Hagihawa quickly went towards the room. “Let’s go get the baby in the meantime, okay?”

Suzuki took Shun and checked him carefully. He’d been crying because his diaper was dirty; she swiftly changed him and wrapped him in a thin blanket. Ikki had never seen anyone change a baby so fast. Every time he did it, it took forever because Shun wiggled too much.

“Why’d you wrap him in a blanket?” Ikki asked her as they both sat in the living room. Suzuki cradled the fast-asleep Shun to her chest, rocking him gently.

“It’s called swaddling, it helps a baby sleep better.” Suzuki turned to him, smiling softly. 

She’s very pretty , Ikki thought. Suzuki had shoulder-length blonde hair that was layered and wild, and her eyes were a deep shade of green. She didn’t look like anyone Ikki had ever seen before.

At the front door, there was a lot of commotion. People were coming in and out, carrying medical bags and wheeling a stretcher into the house. Ikki thought all the noise was going to anger Mother so he stood up, ready to stop them when Suzuki gently grabbed his wrist.

“Ikki,” she whispered, leaning close to him. “Some people are going to take your mama away, and then they’re gonna come and check on you and Shun, alright?”

“Take her away?” he became frantic. “Why is mama leaving too? Can’t she just stay here like always?”

Suzuki held his hand, shaking her head. “Ikki, your mama died. She can’t stay here anymore.”

He stamped his foot in frustration. “She’s just sick! She’s been sick for a really long time! But she’ll get better!”

She gently squeezed his hand. “Honey, listen to me. Your mama was sick, and because of that she died. It means her body doesn’t work anymore.

“She can’t eat, talk, or move ever again. We have to take her away and bury her, because that’s what you do when someone dies.”

The child sniffled, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

“Will I ever see her again?”

“No honey. She’ll never come home again.”

“Was it my fault?”

“Of course not, death is natural. You did nothing wrong.”

“. . .Did it hurt?”

“No, death means she’s not sick anymore. She’ll never be sick or be in pain ever again.”

Behind them, the EMTs wheeled out the gurney with Mother laying on it, covered in a sheet. Only then did Suzuki’s words click for Ikki. Mother was dead, and she was never coming home again. She was leaving, just as Father had months before.

Ikki felt the familiar swirl of anger return to him.

–

After Mother died, Ikki and Shun could no longer stay at the family home. There was no one to watch over them, and the neighbors were all too busy with their own lives and children to consider taking in two more. So, Ikki and Shun were sent to the orphanage in the city. 

Ikki was. . .confused about these new living arrangements.

He didn’t need to wake up and do all of his usual chores. Food was prepared by an adult and it wasn’t made with old or cheap ingredients. There were also more options of food other than just stew. Ikki didn’t even need to take care of Shun often, as there were adults who fed and changed him when he needed it.

After spending months taking care of his family all by himself, Ikki now had nothing to do.

He tried to help in the kitchen, but the adults who worked in there always made him leave. The kitchen is no place for a little child , they would say. Funny, he’d used the one at home just fine!

He tried to help with Shun, but he was told he wasn’t needed. You’re too little, you won’t be able to handle caring for a baby , they’d say. But he had been taking care of Shun since he was born!

The adults were all self-sufficient too; they didn’t need Ikki’s help to eat, or wake up, or get dressed. They didn’t need him. No one needed him.

After being the adult of the house for 3 whole months, suddenly Ikki was back to being a child.

It made him angry. It made him so, so angry. Why did Mother have to be so useless and make him do all of the work? Why did she die and leave him and Shun all alone? Living at the orphanage was far better than living at home, but Ikki had to unlearn all of his habits and routine. He had to remember how to be a kid again.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. And it made him so, so angry.

–

As the years ticked on, Ikki couldn’t find his place at the orphanage. He felt suffocated, like he was being held underwater. No matter what, he was never able to properly settle in. 

At first he tried to busy himself with chores. Anything and everything was fair game, and he did everything from laundry to more tedious tasks like scrubbing the baseboards. However, nothing he did quelled the burning anger within him. In fact, it only seemed to make things worse because every time he tried to help, someone would stop him.

This isn’t a job for a kid.

What are you doing? People are going to get the wrong idea!

Just go outside and play with the others. . .

When staying inside became too much to bear, Ikki began leaving the orphanage and acting out. And for a time, it helped. He was able to let some anger loose and he began to feel normal again. But as he caused problems on the outside, the nagging from the adults at the orphanage only got worse. And then, all the anger that he had worked so hard to disperse during the day immediately came back.

So, he acted out more. But it only led to more disciplinary action.

Ikki genuinely didn’t know what to do. He was trapped in a vicious cycle and it was like the world was out to get him. If this continued, Ikki was terrified that his anger would consume him, burn him alive and leave not even ashes in its wake.

During one of his stints, Ikki had gotten a scolding so harsh from one of the orphanage workers that he lashed out in response, throwing a book at their head and injuring them. It was the first time he’d ever hurt someone willingly.

He was so scared, both of himself and of the repercussions. He turned and ran off into the night.

It was Suzuki who found him two hours later. Ikki had climbed the roof of a nearby store and sat curled up in a ball, his face buried in his arms. 

“Ikki?” she softly called out, slowly approaching him as if he were a stray cat that could run any minute. “Ikki, it’s not safe for you to be out here alone. What if you got hurt?”

“I’d deserve it,” he muttered, digging his nails into his biceps. “All I do is make things worse. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

Suzuki sat beside the boy, mimicking his sitting position. “Did someone at the orphanage tell you that?”

Ikki did not answer.

“You’re a good boy, Ikki. You’ve been a little rowdy lately, but all kids go through emotional outbursts like this.” Suzuki looked up at the stars, dim from the light pollution of the city. “You haven’t had the best life, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to get hurt because of it.”

Ikki did not answer.

“Listen, if you’re worried about that worker, she isn’t angry with you. On the contrary, she’s the one who called me to find you. She felt bad, yelling at you like that.

“I can’t say I approve of you running off and causing trouble, because it’s my job to catch troublemakers. I don’t want you to go down a path you’ll regret. If something happens to you, Shun will be all alone. And you don’t want that, do you?”

He shook his head.

“So let’s try to work on a better way for you to channel your time and energy.” she stood, extending her hand to Ikki. He finally looked up at her, then down to her hand.

“. . .Together?” he asked softly.

“Together.” She replied confidently.

–

6 years after the death of Mother, Ikki finally felt normal again. 

The orphanage workers stopped chasing him away when he did chores, instead letting him do whatever he wanted as long as it was on the compound. He cleaned, cooked, and watched after the other kids. He stopped causing trouble, and in turn he never got yelled at. Instead, he was praised.

You’re such a good worker! No wonder you wanted to do chores!

What a great use of your time! 

You’ll probably end up running this place soon enough!

Ikki felt accomplished. Finally he had an outlet that didn’t hurt anyone nor did it get him in trouble, and that overflowing anger was finally subsiding. He almost forgot that there was ever a time he had that anger in the first place.

“Big brother,” Shun had asked one day as the two were walking home from picking up groceries. “Can we have pudding for dessert today?”

Ikki, who was carrying most of the bags, looked down at Shun with a small smile. “You’ll have to ask the adults about that but even if they say no, I’ll sneak you one after dinner.”

The two turned to cut through the local park; it was out of the way and a shortcut to the street they needed to follow to return to the orphanage. Besides, Shun always loved looking at the plant and animal life when they took this route, so it became a normal routine for them.

6 years, and Shun had been growing fast. He wasn’t as tall as the other kids and was a bit more petite and delicate, but he has a huge heart. Unlike Ikki, who would get angry and didn’t mind fighting or getting dirty, Shun hated violence and never expressed negative emotions of any kind. Their temperaments coupled with their drastically different looks made most people think that Ikki and Shun weren’t really brothers. But Ikki resembled their mom, and Shun resembled their dad. They didn’t have to share features to be considered siblings.

As Ikki thought to himself, Shun squeaked in surprise from behind him.

“Big brother, I lost my star!”

“Star?” Ikki turned, looking utterly confused. “What star?”

“My star! It was a gift from a girl at the grocery store!” Shun looked around, apparently frantic. Ikki wasn’t even aware that Shun had spoken to someone at the grocery store. In fact, he’d made sure that his little brother was always within arm’s reach. 

“What girl? I told you not to talk to strangers-” 

“Waaaah!! Big brotheeeeeer!” Shun wailed, uninterested in answering any further questions. 

He put the bags down on a nearby bench and tried to soothe Shun, but his cries refused to be quelled. He was almost at wits end when a familiar face approached them.

“Officer Suzuki!” Ikki cried, immediately perking up. She was in normal clothing, something that Ikki rarely saw. Was she not at work today…?

“Suzi-neesan!!” Shun sobbed, running into the woman’s arms. “I lost my star! It’s gone forever!”

“You mean this?” Suzuki pulled a necklace out of her coat pocket. It was a silver star medallion, about as big as an orange. Once Shun saw it, he immediately stopped crying. “I saw you two walking home alone and decided to follow you. You dropped this on the sidewalk a couple blocks back. The clasp must not have been properly done.”

She fixed the necklace around Shun’s neck, much to his delight. Though Ikki couldn’t ignore how odd it was. The necklace looked expensive, but someone had randomly given it to Shun…?

“Shun, you can’t keep it,” Ikki said, reaching for the medallion. “We don’t know the girl who gave it to you. What if she reports it stolen and we get in trouble?”

“No!! It’s mine, I won’t give it back!!”

He’d never raised his voice at Ikki before. The familiar surge of anger bubbled up within him.

“Shun, give it!”

“No!! Stupid big brother!!”

“Ehhn?? Who’s stupid?!”

The two began to squabble, fighting over the necklace. Worried things would escalate, Suzuki tried to mediate but the siblings refused to listen to her. Ikki grabbed the medallion and Shun shoved him back. As Shun’s hands touched Ikki, a shockwave burst forward and sent all three sprawling in different directions.

“Ack!!” Ikki tumbled back, landing face first into the dirt. His body tingled as if he’d been zapped with lightning and his vision blurred as he wavered in and out of consciousness. A few feet across from him lay Shun, who was holding the medallion for dear life. There was a faint pink glow around his little body. As Ikki looked down at his hands, he saw a strange orange glow around them.

What the….

“Ikki! Shun!” Suzuki scrambled over to them, wincing away from Ikki as if in pain. “What is this. . .fire??” she turned to Shun and after seeing he wasn’t moving either, immediately stood up.

“Su…zu…” Ikki rasped, feeling all of his strength getting drained out of him. He wanted to reach for her, but he couldn’t force his body to move. 

The woman patted her coat and pants; she’d left her phone and things in her car parked blocks away. She could risk running there, but she didn’t want to leave the children any longer than she had to. 

“Payphone…Payphone! There’s a payphone on the corner!! Boys, I’ll be right back okay? I’ll be right back!”

Ikki couldn’t turn to her, but he trusted her. Suzuki would help them, he knows she will. He closed his eyes, deciding to wait for her to come back. All he had to do was wait, and everything will be okay. 

“AAAAIIEEE!”

Ikki jolted awake, looking at Shun. He was still out cold, clutching that medallion. So where did that scream come from?

“What if you killed her??” a shrill man’s voice cried from just behind Ikki. “The order specifically said to go in and get out with no outside interactions unless absolutely necessary!”

“She was calling the police, what’s more of an absolute necessity?” another man said, his voice more gravelly and stoic. He was moving, walking closer to the two children. “Besides, this’ll make that bald bastard so happy he won’t have the forethought to complain. Look, two of them and their potential is extremely high. We were right to stake out that tiny orphanage.” 

Ikki felt the back of his shirt being grabbed followed by the sensation of being lifted clean off the ground. As if he weighed nothing at all. 

“Geez! This damn brat is burning up!” 

“Shut up and grab the other one. We need to go before that woman wakes up.”

Woman? Who? Suzuki?

Ikki fought his own brain, trying to regain control over his own body. Why was it so hard for him to move?!

“Let…Let me go!” He struggled in vain against the strange men, but his body still refused to listen to him. From his new raised position, he could see Suzuki laying a few feet away. She was completely still and laying on her stomach. 

She looked just like Mother had years ago.

Ikki felt the anger that he had spent years stamping down boiling up to the surface again. Whoever these men were, they had come and hurt Suzuki. They were trying to take Shun away. Suddenly, the heaviness his body felt disappeared. All he could feel now was a burning sensation coursing through his muscles.

He swung his foot forward as hard as he could, connecting the kick to the man’s chest. He coughed as the wind was knocked out of him, dropping Ikki to the ground. Somehow he managed to land on his feet, though he did stumble a bit.

“Hey, you little brat!” The other man lunged towards Ikki, but he looked like he was wading through syrup. Like everything was moving in slow motion, except Ikki himself. It was almost too easy, to dodge or escape.

Too easy to land a hit.

Ikki clenched his fist and swung directly at the second man’s jaw, sending him flying. The orange aura around him burst outward before fading away completely. The anger seemed to subside as well, but Ikki couldn’t be worried about that right now. He ran over to Shun and gently picked him up before going over to Suzuki.

She was warm, and Ikki could see that she was still breathing. He held Shun under his right arm and used all of his strength to pull Suzuki up under his left arm. He’d thought it would be fine; Ikki knew he was strong and he’s carried tons of heavy things before. But Shun and Suzuki were unconscious, and they were heavier than anything he’s ever tried to carry before. 

He took slow and shaky steps, trying to get out of the park or at least far enough to flag down a car on the street. The park wasn’t fully secluded, as long as he could get out in the open he could call for help. But they were so, so heavy.

His muscles ached and screamed out in protest, but he couldn’t drop them. Who knows what would happen to them if he left them here? How could he run away when they both needed him to protect them? 

“Don’t worry,” Ikki muttered, finding it harder and harder to keep moving. “We’re almost to the street. It’ll be okay.”

Ikki could see the street. It was only a few more feet away, and there were cars and people walking.

“H-hey!” he cried, stumbling over his own two legs. “Hey, someone! Hel- Ghhk!” 

There was a solid thud against the back of his head and Ikki felt everything go dark. 

–

Ikki awoke to the sound of Shun crying. 

He sat up so fast that his vision swirled. The back of his head throbbed painfully and his muscles were all sore and stiff. When Shun noticed Ikki was awake, he threw himself into the other’s arms.

“Big brother! You’re okay!”

“Shun…Shun? What happened, where are we?”

Looking around, they were sitting in a room Ikki had never seen before. It was a giant room with no windows and only one door. Lined against the walls were multiple bunk beds in various states of disarray; some had clothes and toys, others were missing blankets and pillows. In front of each bunk bed was a large wooden trunk. There had to have been at least 50 sets of bunk beds in the room!

“There were other kids here,” Shun said, fiddling with his medallion. “They all left with a grown up, but I dunno who he was. He said I could stay with you until you woke up.”

“We have to leave, Shun. Where’s Suzuki?” Ikki threw the blankets off of himself, shakily standing. 

Shun shook his head. “Suzi-neesan wasn’t here when I woke up. None of the kids knew her either…”

“Come on, let’s go before those other kids come back.” 

“What? You can’t leave!” 

Ikki quickly pushed Shun behind him, glaring towards the sound of the voice. It was a girl in fancy clothes. She had shoulder-length brownish-pink hair and bright blue eyes.

“Who are you.” he growled, trying to be as aggressive as possible to scare her. However, the girl didn’t seem to mind him at all.

“That’s no way to talk to the person whose house you’re staying at!” The girl held up two trays, each with identical bowls and cups on them. “It’s dinner time, but you didn’t come downstairs. I brought your food for you.”

Ikki warily watched as she approached them and set the trays down on the bed. Shun immediately sat down and started eating. They hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast time, and Ikki’s own stomach traitorously grumbled.

The girl laughed at him, which should’ve made him angry. But instead, he felt drawn to her. As if she were the most important thing in the world to him.

“Eat! It’ll get cold!”

Before he even knew it, he had sat back down and started eating. It was a simple meal of rice porridge and bread, but it was the tastiest thing he’d ever eaten. Even better than the food at the orphanage.

“Good huh? Daddy made the chefs work extra hard on it!” The girl sat on the bed opposite them, swinging her legs as they dangled over the edge. “For some reason, they had been giving the kids table scraps and other old stuff.”

Ikki took another bite of the soft bread roll. It tasted freshly baked, soft and sweet. It went well with the rice porridge.

“Where are we?”

“You’re at the Kido estate! This is the old storage house behind the manor, Grandfather repurposed it for all of the orphans to live at while they get their training.”

Nothing she was saying made any sense. 

“We already lived at an orphanage. How did we get here?”

The girl shrugged. “Grandfather’s scouting teams bring back orphans from all over the world. You two are the most recent additions, but there’s still one more orphan on his way. Once he gets here, we’ll have 100 total.”

Ikki shook his head, pushing his empty tray away from him. “The caretakers would have never sent us away without saying anything. Plus, Shun and I were attacked before coming here.”

“Oh yeah, you were pretty banged up when you arrived. Tatsumi found you guys in a park and brought you here. Just relax and enjoy your time here! You’re gonna start your training after your wounds are all healed up!”

“Training?”

“Yeah! Stuff like running laps and learning how to fight. You’re gonna learn to become Saints!”

Really he couldn't understand what she was talking about, but Ikki had to look at things objectively. It looked like the old orphanage must’ve sold him and Shun to these people. It hurt to think about, but this was a better living situation. Perhaps the caretakers thought they would be better off. Perhaps things were finally looking up for them.

“What happened to the lady who was with us?” Ikki had hoped that Suzuki was here too, but the look on the girl’s face told him she hadn’t come here with them. It made sense, Suzuki wasn’t an orphan after all. 

“I’m gonna tell Daddy and Grandfather that you’re awake.” The girl took the empty trays, walking to the door. “You can look around if you want, but try not to wander too far. There’s a curfew!”

Everything was happening so fast. For some reason, Ikki didn't want the girl to leave. He'd only just met her, but there was something about her that made it impossible to look away.

“Wait, you haven’t even told me your name! Uhm, I’m Ikki, and this is my brother Shun.” he blurted out, trying to keep the conversation going in any way he could.

The girl looked over her shoulder at them, the light from the windows in the hallway casting her in a halo of sunlight. She looked ethereal, as if she were a goddess. When her eyes landed on him, Ikki felt all of the pain in his body fade away. As if just her gaze was enough to heal his weary muscles.

“My name’s Saori!”

Chapter Text

Shiryu never complained about his lot in life.

When his parents died in a car crash when he was only a year old, he went to live with his grandfather, Longo. The village they lived in was small and out of the way, but everyone knew everyone there. It was comfortable for Shiryu. The only problem was he was the only child in the entire village.

This village was mostly filled with middle-aged women who never settled down and their parents or other older adults. So, when little toddler Shiryu came to stay with his grandfather, all of the women flocked to him like moths to a flame. They pinched his little cheeks and dressed him up, brushed his hair and took him with them to the bathhouse. He was spoiled, effectively, but he never grew vain or bratty.

Shiryu was a very calm and mature child. 

Once he could walk, his grandfather had him start doing chores and working around the village. Helping in the fields, taking care of animals, learning to cook, sew, and tend the house; Shiryu learned everything he would need to care for himself and his future family. But Shiryu did not want to have a family. He didn’t want to leave the village. He was happy here.

“Ah, little Shiryu!” a woman called, working behind a produce stand. She waved the boy over, handing him a bag of fresh fruits and veggies. “For you and Longo-shigong! Give him my regards, okay?”

“Yes, Jiejie.” he placed the produce into his wicker basket and continued on his way. Every other stand offered him something; meats, eggs, dairy, and even some freshly baked mantou. Shiryu made sure to thank every single person who gave him something and mentally recalled who gave what so he could return the favor.

He would go home, prepare dinner for himself and Grandfather, and then make some shaobing with the ingredients he received to give as gifts the next day. 

“Shiryu.” 

The boy turned, seeing Longo sitting and staring out the window. The old man had done that often, looking for something but never seeming to find it. 

“A greater calling awaits you. Something beyond this village. Beyond the stars.”

Shiryu brought over Grandfather’s dinner; a bowl of egg drop soup, fried pieces of chicken coated in sweet sauce, and a bowl of rice. He set the bowls on the dining tray laying across the bed and prepared some ginger tea. As he poured a cup for the man, he turned and stared down at the boy with misty eyes. 

“Listen to the dragon, Shiryu. One day, you will fight for something greater than yourself. You must never falter; you must be unbreakable, unyielding.

“You must be Her shield.”

The boy simply nodded in response. He’d learned that there was no point asking for elaboration when it came to Grandfather’s ramblings. The aunties of the village always said that there was something off about his grandfather, that he wasn’t all there most of the time. Shiryu pushed the tray of food closer to him, but the man refused to even look at it.

“Grandfather, you need to ea―”

Suddenly, Shiryu was grabbed by his shoulders and forced to make eye contact. Though he was usually listless and never focused on any one thing, now Grandfather stared at the boy with a terrifying clarity. 

“G-Grandfa―”

“No matter what it takes, even if you die in the process, you must go down the path of a Saint!”

–

Shiryu could never understand what Grandfather was telling him. It was usually manageable; Grandfather didn’t actually talk much at all normally. However lately he was always mumbling something about gods of war and saints fighting for earth. It sounded like some sort of comic book, but Shiryu had never once seen his grandfather read anything on his own.

He’d sought advice from the villagers, and they all had the same story for him.

Longo was born and raised in this village, an elder in every right. In his youth he was a big and strapping young man, tasked with most of the manual labor of the village. When he was 15 years old, two men in cloaks carrying giant silver boxes approached him.

You’ve been chosen for a higher purpose, they had told him that day. Longo was taken to the Ancient Rozan Peaks where he trained under an old martial arts master. None of the villagers knew what the training was for or how long he’d be gone, but they were happy for him. Of course they were, to be chosen and openly trained in such a way was a blessing. He would get free room and board, fed three meals a day, and learn from a real and true master. There was simply nothing to worry about.

At least, until Longo returned home nearly 7 years later.

There was a vacancy in his eyes, as if all the life that had used to fill them had completely vanished. Whatever happened to him at those Peaks was unknown, but it must’ve been extremely traumatic to change him so drastically.

“Don’t take anything he says to heart,” Miss Tao said, putting a hand to her cheek. “I think the training he endured broke him mentally, and when he couldn’t handle it anymore he returned home.”

“Even when he married Dai Lu, his strange behavior never changed. Bless her soul, she had the heart of a saint…” her daughter, Suyin spoke up from her spot sweeping the front porch. 

“Suyin-jie, what is a saint exactly?” Shiryu asked, tilting his head a bit. 

“Ehh? Well, a saint is someone who is a very good and kind person. The kind of people who are worshiped for many years after they’re dead!”

Shiryu didn’t understand. Why had his grandfather wanted him to be someone like that? How could he be someone so good they were worth worshipping?  He’d barely even believed in religious things like that, but he found them to be fascinating study topics.

He waved to the two women and walked back home. There was no point thinking about it now. As Miss Tao and Suyin said, there was something wrong with Grandfather. His words made no sense, and he was an old man who’d long since lost his mind. For all Shiryu knew, the old man was simply hallucinating.

However, Shiryu couldn’t forget the look on Grandfather’s face as he spoke. It was the most lucid he’d ever seen the old man, and it almost felt like he was truly trying to tell Shiryu something important. 

“Grandfather,” the boy called, gently closing the door behind him as he entered their home. “I’m back from the village. Would you like me to start preparing dinner now?”

Longo had been staring out of the window again. He did not respond.

As Shiryu walked past him, he noticed that the man was staring out in the direction of the mountains. It made him recall the story that he’d been told.

“I’ll prepare dinner and then tend to the anim-”

“Shiryu, there’s somewhere we need to be. Something that I need to test and witness with my own two eyes.” Longo stood and started to walk towards the front door. It was the first time Shiryu had ever seen his grandfather get up and walk around, and the first time he ever wanted to go somewhere on his own.

“Grandfather, can it not wait until tomorrow? It’ll be dark soon.”

“No. No, I need to know now. Come Shiryu, we must hurry.”

–

The two trudged through the thick jungle just beyond the village, heading up into the mountains. Shiryu was worried that they’d get attacked by animals, or bitten by insects, but Longo didn’t seem the least bit worried. He walked with the confidence of someone who thought they were invincible, despite being old and bedridden as long as Shiryu had known him.

“Grandfather, where are we going?”

“To awaken your Cosmo, Shiryu.”

They walked until they reached a clearing; a river that emptied out into a waterfall alongside a cliff edge. The sound of the roaring water was deafening, and Shiryu had to cover his ears as they approached. Longo didn’t react however. He stared out to the edge of the cliff for a few seconds before pulling off his shirt.

Despite his age, the man was muscular and well-built. It was as if he never stopped his training from his youth. Across his back was the distinct tattoo of a dragon, mouth agape and snarling as if ready to attack. It terrified Shiryu.

“G-Grandfather-”

“If you’re truly my grandson,” the man whispered, which Shiryu shouldn’t have been able to hear over the waterfall but it carried perfectly fine. “You’ll survive this.

“You’ll awaken the stars within you, gain the dragon, and then you’ll be ready to become a Saint.”

The boy shook his head, scrambling to his feet. He tried to run away, but Longo had grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

“No!! What are you doing?! Grandfather!!”

“You must awaken the Cosmo within you Shiryu. Your only other option is to die.” Longo began to walk towards the edge of the cliff, dragging the flailing child along with him. Though he was so strong there was nothing Shiryu could do to escape.

“Grandfather!!! No!!!!” There were tears streaming down Shiryu’s face. He screamed and thrashed as much as he could, but the old man didn’t care.

He didn’t care.

“Awaken the dragon.”

Those were the last words Shiryu heard as his own grandfather threw him off the edge of the cliff. 

He felt the wind as he plummeted, heard the roar of the waterfall and the spring it emptied into, he could even taste the water in the air. But none of it mattered, none of it truly processed in his mind because there was one thought that took the forefront.

His grandfather had just killed him.

Though it felt like he was falling in slow motion, Shiryu was smart enough to know what this meant. No one could survive a fall from this height. And even if he did, he wasn’t strong enough to swim out from under a waterfall. This was a death sentence no matter how he looked at it. And it was because of his grandfather.

What had I done wrong? Shiryu wondered as the edge of the cliff got farther and farther away. I’d always been well-behaved. I never cried. I never asked for anything but permission.

So why did he kill me?

A deep pain throbbed in his heart. The pain spread throughout his body, all of his muscles, to his fingers and toes. A blistering, unbearable heat suddenly started in his back, as if someone were etching something into his skin with a burning needle. Whatever this pain was, Shiryu was comforted by the hope that he wouldn’t feel anything soon.

He felt the impact of hitting the bottom of the waterfall and a shockwave exploded from his body, jolting him upright.

Shiryu sat up in bed, gasping for air. He was drenched from head to toe, but it wasn’t river water. It was sweat, as every movement was gross and sticky. He quickly pulled off his shirt, fumbling to get up and stumbling over one of his pillows. 

“Haff….haff….”

He couldn’t breathe, it was so hard to breathe. It felt like his throat was full of water but no matter how much he coughed, nothing came out. His muscles ached and burned, but his back felt the worst. The skin was raw and sensitive, like it had been scratched down to nothing. Shiryu crawled forward, trying to get to his bedroom door. He’d had a terrible dream about his grandfather, about almost dying, and now his body wasn’t listening to him. But the dream felt so real.

He could taste the water and could feel his body hitting the bottom. Even all of the pain felt real too. But he was back home, and he was alive.

As he crawled, he passed the tall mirror on the wall near the door. He hadn’t meant to look, but his eyes were drawn to his own reflection.

He looked like a mess; his hair was mussed and tangled, clinging to his sweaty skin. His body was clean, but there were splotches of bluish-purple all over his skin.

. . .Bruises? From what?

Shiryu forced himself to get into a kneeling position, shuffling closer to the mirror and studying the bruises. They were very noticeable and extremely fresh, but there was nothing that could’ve done this to him. 

Nothing, aside from a fall from a high height.

But he was alive, and in bed! How did he get from the mountains to his bed? And how did he only get away with a handful of bruises? No, this must’ve been from his tossing and turning after the nightmare he’s just had. It was just a bad dream. Nothing more, nothing less.

“...I can breathe again..” Shiryu put a hand to his throat, no longer feeling the suffocating pressure from before. His muscles were still sore, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. If anything, he felt better than he ever had. He had more energy, and even the pain was slowly fading away.

As he turned to return to bed, there was a faint green glow that caught his peripherals. He whipped his head to the mirror again, but saw nothing. The green glow he saw disappeared.

Or so he thought.

In the mirror he could still see the glow, but it was against the opposite wall. The glow was behind him. Slowly, Shiryu turned again. This time, he kept his eyes on the mirror the entire time. And there, he saw it. On his back was the same thing he saw in his dream.

The dragon, mouth agape and snarling, ready to attack.

–

Shiryu never saw his grandfather again after that night.

He needed to confirm that the dragon was real and find out what truly happened that night, so he went to find Longo to demand answers from him. But the old man was gone. He had definitely returned to the house, as there was a note left on his untouched bedding.

You’ve awakened the dragon and now you must live your life for Athena. Become a Saint. Complete the task that your foolish grandfather could not. 

Droplets soiled the note as tears fell from the boy’s eyes, smudging the ink and ruining the paper. Awaken the dragon. Become a Saint. Not only was last night not a dream, but his grandfather really had thrown him off that cliff. His only remaining family tried to kill him, and the man didn’t even stay to properly explain why.

He’d run away, just as he had years ago after being chosen for his training. Shiryu’s heart was broken, but this was only the beginning of his troubles. 

Days later, men in suits had come to the village looking for Shiryu. He’d never seen anyone like them before, and they spoke a language he wasn’t familiar with. According to Miss Tao, they were Japanese men from the Graad Foundation; they wanted to take Shiryu with them to Japan to participate in their training program.

“Why me?” Shiryu asked, packing what little items and clothes he had. He’d been staying at the house even though Grandfather had left, tending to the animals and doing his everyday tasks as if nothing had changed.

“Your grandfather called them,” Miss Tao explained, gently petting the boy on the head. “They said that he wanted you to be well taken care of from now on.”

Shiryu felt a bitter clench in his heart at the mention of Longo, a feeling he encountered often since the night he almost died.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Miss Tao only smiled sadly. Shiryu leaned his head against the older woman, sighing gently. She said nothing, probably rightfully assuming that nothing she could say here would truly comfort him. Instead, she held him close until the Graad Foundation men came to take Shiryu away.

–

Miles away from home, Shiryu found himself in a strange country surrounded by people his own age. Where once he lived as the sole child of his village, he was now one of many little kids running around on the Kido Estate.

He wasn’t the only child who wasn’t from Japan either; there were children here from all over the world, speaking languages he’d never heard before. In the mornings and at night, all of the children who couldn’t speak Japanese or English took classes to learn at least one or the other. Or at the very least become fluent enough to hold basic conversations. It was grueling work, but Shiryu never complained.

Instead of spending his free time playing or making friends like the other children, Shiryu focused on his studies. As such, he was learning at a faster pace than the other kids and eventually didn’t need to take any of the morning classes. However, he still spent all of his free time studying. While it made the adults happy, it frustrated the other children.

“There’s Shiryu again, with his nose in a book.” One boy sneered, looking down at Shiryu from his position on the bunk above him. He had fiery red hair and his face was spattered with freckles; Shiryu had heard him referred to as Oliver. They were bunkmates, but they rarely ever spoke to each other. Except when the other boy wanted to bully Shiryu.

“I am not bothering anyone.” he smoothly replied, causing Oliver to loudly scoff.

“You’re bothering me! This is our free time, and you’re there studying! Don’t you know books give me hives??”

A few other boys giggled, but did and said nothing else. They didn’t want to risk having the boy on their case as well, so they were all fine with him focusing his attention on Shiryu.

Cowards, he’d thought, but Oliver suddenly jumped down and snatched the book from him.

“Who’re you callin’ a coward?!”

Oops, had he actually said that aloud?

“Give me back my book, Oliver.”

“You think you’re so amazing huh? Like you’re better than us who still have to take day and night classes??”

Shiryu sighed. He hadn’t said any of that. And he wasn’t even referring to Oliver in regards to the coward remark. This was such a headache. If Shiryu knew that other kids were gonna be so immature and annoying, he never would have come here with the Graad Foundation. Oh well, he didn’t really need that book anymore anyways. He’d already read it and was just using it to polish off some harder points of his vocabulary.

“Ignoring me now?! How about I mangle up that stupid face of yours?! That’ll make you pay attention!” Oliver balled his free hand into a fist.

He closed his eyes, bracing for a hit of some sort. What’s one more bruise? They get plenty during their physical training, and perhaps this one will be bad enough for him to have an excuse to stay in bed for a day or two. 

There was the audible sound of a punch landing and Shiryu winced, but realized he felt nothing. No impact, no pain. He opened his eyes and saw Oliver laying on the ground, writhing in pain.

“ ‘S whatcha get!” another boy said, standing over Oliver and rubbing his fist. His Japanese was so informal and he spoke so fast that Shiryu couldn’t quite understand what he said, but he got the gist of it. The boy leaned down and grabbed the discarded book before holding it out to Shiryu. “You should start fightin’ back, otherwise everyone is gonna treat ya like a doormat.”

He stared at the boy, then looked down at the book. Slowly, he took it and held it to his chest.

“. . .There was no point in fighting. You did not have to defend me.”

“Wowza, ya talk like a robot! One’a those kids who are new to Japanese huh?”

Shiryu tilted his head. The boy had wild brown hair that looked almost red in some spots, tan skin, and bright, brown eyes. While Shiryu couldn’t really understand him, he could tell that the boy was a kind soul. Even his wide, crooked smile put Shiryu at ease.

“Seiya, not even fluent Japanese speakers can understand your fast-paced slang! If Shiryu’s a robot, you’re just a thug!” A shoe came flying from a different bunk, thonking the boy upside the head. The room erupted in laughter, startling Shiryu at the abrupt mood change.

“Ow, what the hell was that for??” Seiya cried, throwing the shoe right back. It hit its mark, but the laughter only grew more intense. “If ya can’t speak fast Japanese, then ya need ta read some more books!”

“Rich coming from the guy that still can’t read!” another voice chimed in, causing the other boys to howl with laughter again. Even Shiryu found himself chuckling.

“Geez! Not you too-” Seiya huffed but couldn’t hide the grin that crept onto his face. “Shiryu, right? My name’s Seiya. Nice t’ meetcha!”

Seiya….Yes, Shiryu recognized him. He was the last orphan to arrive at the Kido Estate and no one expected him to fit in or find any social footing. Everyone else had already formed friend groups by the time Seiya arrived, so it was pretty easy to assume that he was going to have a hard time clicking with anyone. However, the opposite ended up being true.

Seiya was loud and ever-present; you couldn’t go anywhere on the estate without knowing he was around. Be it getting scolded by adults, getting into fights, or just being a general troublemaker; Seiya was at the heart of every shenanigan. He was funny and approachable too, so making friends was as easy as breathing for him.

He was the exact opposite of Shiryu. And yet here he was, trying to befriend him. And defending him from his bully all at the same time.

“Nice to meet you…” Shiryu mumbled, setting the book down.

Seiya’s grin grew wider. “Don’t worry about Oliver. I’ll make him switch bunks with someone else so he won’t bug ya anymore. Hey, do ya prefer the top bunk or bottom? I bet he forced ya on the bottom bunk without even askin’! Oh, how about ya-”

“Uhm, Seiya-” Shiryu interrupted, shaking his head. He really was having trouble keeping up with how fast Seiya could talk. But Seiya had helped him, so now he wanted to help in return. “Would you like to borrow my book? Perhaps it will help you with your strange way of talking…Ah, you cannot read right? Would you like me to teach you?”

The room went deathly quiet. Shiryu looked around, confused. Had he said something wrong? Seiya stood there, his eyes wide.

“Oh c’mon Shiryu, I know how to read!!”

And just like that, the room burst into laughter again.

“Hey, stop laughing guys! I really do know how to read!!!”

Chapter Text

All Seiya ever knew was the city orphanage and his older sister, Seika.

Their parents died when Seiya was barely one year old; he’d never had a real chance to truly build any memories of them. He doesn’t even remember their faces. None of that concerns Seiya though. However, he can’t help but feel bad when Seika mentions or mourns them and all he can do is sit there.

“Neesan,” Seiya asked one day, watching as Seika carefully cleaned the gravestone before her. Seiya wasn’t old enough to read the kanji on the stone, but Seika always said it was their family grave. “Why d’ya always clean that stone thingie?”

“It’s a sign of respect,” Seika responded. “You clean the gravestones to keep a connection with the dead and show your gratitude for their existence.”

“But I’ve never really met them. I don’t feel anything for them.”

“Mm? You’ll have to help clean the family grave someday.”

“Why d’ya wanna be connected to dead people? I mean, isn’t that gonna stink?”

“It’s not literal, Seiya!”

The boy sat there quietly, watching her scrub the stone, pluck weeds, and place fresh flowers. It was actually really soothing for him. Before he knew it, he was dozing off. It was fine to take a quick nap, Seika normally took a while to clean the stone anyways. So he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

–

“Seiya,” came a soft voice. “Seiya, it’s time to wake up.”

“Mm… Neesan?” he sat up, rubbing his eyes. There was Seika, smiling down at him like always.

Reaching out and taking his hand to help him stand, she gently patted his back to get dirt and leaves off of him. “Let’s head home now, okay?”

“Kaaay.”

Seiya looked over at the gravestone one last time before walking back to the orphanage with Seika. 

It was a relatively large orphanage, donated by some old man with tons of money back around the time Seiya had been born. Nearly a year after that, he ended up living there with his sister. It was like fate , Seika had said back then. He didn’t get it, but it was a great place either way. He had plenty of friends and the caretakers were all nice to him.

While they walked down the street, Seika gently nudged her little brother to get his attention. “Did you have fun today?”

“Huh? No, not at all! I never have fun doing the… What didja call it again? Something about being glued to rotting bodies…”

“E-ew! Is that what you thought I meant??” Seika balked at the idea, looking down at Seiya with wide eyes. Her face was even turning green!

“W-why’re ya so surprised? You were the one who said it earlier! When I asked why ya had to clean the graves!”

“Seiya, when I said being connected to the dead, I meant spiritually! You can’t be connected to a dead body physically! I told you it wasn’t literal!”

He paused, letting her words digest a bit.

“Okay but, it would be kinda cool to be glued to a dead person!”

“No it wouldn’t!!”
–

Seiya didn’t have issues with the orphanage or the other kids. Everyone was fun to play with, and while some of them were a bit more overbearing than others, he loved spending time with them all.

“Miho, Seiya, what’s your favorite anime?” one of the other children, Haruno, had asked during the scheduled tv time for the kids.

“Uh, I don’t really have a preference! I just like watching whatever Seiya does…” the blunette responded, fiddling with her fingers. None of the others seemed to be surprised at her answer, except Seiya.

“Hah? But everyone’s got a favorite! Even Seika! Ya gotta pick somethin’ at least!”

Miho quickly shook her head, turning away. The other children immediately laughed at her reaction, but Seiya was still utterly confused. Girls really are weird , he thought. He slid off the couch as the others argued amongst themselves and decided to take a walk outside. Normally it was rare for the children to be allowed outside alone, least of all when the sun was setting. However, the caretakers were pretty lenient and as long as they stayed close to the orphanage, it was fine.

The orphanage was close to the ocean, the perimeter separated by a line of shoreline homes owned by the caretakers and a single street. Seiya liked to watch the sunset over the ocean, but it was always best to see it at the pier.

He left out of the sliding door that leads to the backyard and started his trek down to the shoreline. All he wanted to do was see the sunset, maybe find some pretty seashells for Seika and Miho. and then he’d head right back. 

“Hup! Hm, gotta make sure I look both ways before crossing the street…” Seiya looked left, then right, then left again. No cars to be seen. He quickly ran across the street and down the steps to the beach. The sun had just barely started to set, so he figured he had some time to search for shells. 

He found quite a few shells; cones of all sorts of patterns, a couple spider conches, and a bunch of shiny abalone shells. Eventually, Seiya’s pockets had started to grow heavy from all of the shells he was trying to carry. This is good enough , he thought with a nod before turning to head back up to the pier. 

Only to realize he had wandered farther than he intended to.

Luckily the pier was still within eyeshot, but he would need to run to get there and make it back to the orphanage before they lock up for the night.

“Mm…I’m wearing my sneakers though, it’s gonna suck to clean out the sand…” 

As Seiya debated on what to do, there was the sound of yelling and things being hit just beyond where he was standing. It was opposite of the direction he had to go to reach the pier, so at first he thought of just leaving. It wasn’t any of his business after all, and it was probably just some other people playing on the beach.

“Get off of me- Let go! Help!” came one voice louder than the others. It was a girl’s voice, and it sounded just like Seika! She was supposed to be running an errand with some of the older kids, what were they doing on the beach?

“Neesan!” Seiya turned and sprinted over to the voices, rounding the corner to see a girl being harassed by a grown man in a weird suit. He’d never seen this guy before, but all he cared about was the fact they were putting their hands on his sister. “Leave her alone, asshole!” 

“Wha- Who’s the little kid?”

“I. Said. Leave. Her. ALONE!” Seiya ran up and pulled a screw shell out of his pocket, swinging forward and stabbing the man in the hand. He yowled in pain, letting go of Seika and stumbling back.

“Argh! You stupid little-” the man screamed in pain again as Seiya threw a handful of sand into his eyes. 

“Whoa-” Seika mumbled. Seiya grabbed her hand and started running, pulling her along.

“C’mon Neesan! Let’s get back to the orphanage!”

“...”

The two ran down the beach and up to the stairs of the pier. Once they got up and across the street, it was a straight shot to the orphanage. Then all they had to do was tell the caretakers what happened and it’ll be fine. Seiya turned to look at Seika, but immediately grew confused.

This…wasn’t his sister.

They looked similar from afar, but up close it was apparent this girl was completely different; she had bright reddish brown hair and stormy gray eyes. She was a bit taller than Seika too.

“Who…are you?” 

The girl laughed, shaking her head. “You waited this long to ask that?”

They both laughed at that, shaking off the uncomfortable air from the earlier situation. Whoever that man was, it didn’t look like he was following them anymore. The girl, Marin, said that she was getting ready to leave on a trip to Greece when she got separated from her guide. While she was walking to their agreed meeting spot, that man ambushed her. 

“I have no idea who he was,” Marin sighed, crossing her arms. “He said something about wanting to take me to an orphanage to train, but I told him that I was leaving for Greece soon. That guy though, he just wouldn’t take no for an answer. You actually saved me back there, so thank you.”

“Awh shucks, it was nuthin!” Seiya beamed, scratching the back of his head. Maybe he’ll get in less trouble with the adults if Marin explains that he saved her from a would-be kidnapper. “Ah, but what orphanage was he gonna bring ya to? The one I live at is up the street, but he definitely doesn’t work there.”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t explain anything. But he knew I had Cosmo, so I thought he was affiliated with my guide from Greece. But there’s no way someone as nice as Aiolia would affiliate with a thug like that.”

“Huh? What’s Cos―”

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of a car screeching towards them. As if instinctively, Seiya tackled Marin out of the way, the two of them tumbling across the asphalt. That car was trying to take them out!

“Watch where yer drivin’ asshole!” Seiya shrieked, shaking his fist at the driver. The car stopped a bit away from them, and out came the man in the weird suit from before. He hadn’t given up the chase at all. He was just getting a car to catch us easier, Seiya thought.

“It’s the kidnapper! Seiya, we need to run!”

But run where? The route to the orphanage was blocked by the car, and if they tried to run along the road the guy would just get in the vehicle and chase them down again. They could run onto the beach again, but there was only so far they could get before needing to climb onto the road again. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place!

The man approached them and Seiya immediately stood between him and Marin. At the very least, he was gonna keep her safe. She was older than him, but every time he looked at her he saw Seika. And it stirred an urge within him to protect her.

“Go away! Leave her alone! Pervert! Freak!” He put his little fists up, ready to fight. 

“I’m not a pervert or a freak, you brat!” The man easily grabbed Seiya by the back of his shirt, dangling him in the air like a scruffed kitten. “I’m just going to bring her to the orphanage. She’ll be happy and safe there, isn’t that a good thing?”

“She doesn’t wanna go!” he flailed, but his limbs were too short to hit the man or force him to let go. “She’s already got somewhere she’s gotta be, and yer tryna force her! So yer the creepy pervert!!”

“I just TOLD you, I’m not―” the man sputtered as a punch connected to his face, causing him to drop Seiya to the ground. Though there was no one near them to have hit him. Seiya turned and saw that Marin was standing there with her fist out. She’d hit him, but she was so far away! Her fists glowed a faint blue, and with another swing, the man got hit again.

“Whoa! Marin-neechan, how’re ya punchin' him from so far away?? Yer fists are blue!”

“You- You can SEE Cosmo?” she gaped, immediately tensing again as the man stood up.

“You’re already able to condense your Cosmo into blows, Kido is gonna be over the moon when he sees you.” he rubbed his jaw, but the punches didn’t seem to do much damage to him. “Though, you don’t hit as hard as Atsuya, but that’s what the training is for.”

“Gnnh… I’m not strong enough to punch multiple times- Seiya, it’s me he wants. You should run back to the orphanage.” Marin swung over and over, loosing multiple blue bursts at the man but some didn’t hit at all and the ones that did barely made him flinch.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you. Just come with me to the orphanage and everything will be fine!”

“Seiya, just go!” Marin swung again, but the energy around her fists faded away. Seeing that she was no longer able to fight, the man grabbed her by her wrists.

Seiya clenched his fists so hard he could feel his nails dig into his skin. Saving himself, or helping Marin? Seiya knew he’d never live with himself if he let this man take her, and her face, so twisted in fear and discomfort- 

It felt like looking at his sister. 

Seiya dug into his pockets and pulled out some seashells. He dropped them and kicked as hard as he could, launching the shells forward. They whizzed past the man like bullets, slashing his clothes and skin. Surprised, they all looked at the boy and saw that he too was glowing a faint blue.

Just as Marin had been.

“Whoa…Marin, look! I got the glowy stuff too!”

“Ah, so the boy can use Cosmo too…Fine by me, two is better than one.”

“Seiya!” Marin cried, putting her fist up. “Swing, Seiya! Imagine your fist is a meteorite, and strike with all of the power of the stars!”

The stars? He didn't get it, but there was no time to ponder the meaning now. He closed his eyes before swinging his fist as hard as he could. Just as Marin had before, blue bursts flew from his punch. Though none of them connected, they got close enough to the man that he hesitated to approach.

“Again, Seiya! Keep your eyes open, aim, and punch!” 

“But- What if I hit you??”

“Don’t worry about me! I have Cosmo too, I can handle it!”

Seiya took a deep breath. Eyes open, don’t be scared. Just don’t miss, and you won’t have to worry about hitting Marin. Just swing!

He threw another punch, putting his whole body into the movement. Blue bursts flew forward, but in the midst of them there were golden streaks of light. They were so fast, Seiya barely even registered them before everything connected. There was a huge explosion of dust and dirt from the side of the road, causing Seiya to wince and shield his eyes. 

“I apologize for being late,” came a voice Seiya didn’t recognize. It was a boy, by the sounds of it. Older than him, but younger than the man. “When you weren’t at the meeting spot, I’d thought you changed your mind. To think it was because someone was trying to kidnap you…”

With a swipe of his arm, the dust cloud instantly cleared. There stood a sandy-blond boy in a brown coat, and beside him was Marin. He must’ve grabbed her before the dust settled.

“It’s alright Aiolia, all that matters is you made it.” Marin exhaled, apparently relieved.

“Are either of you hurt?”

“No, no I’m fine. Seiya, are you hurt?”

He quickly shook his head, looking up at the other boy. He couldn’t have been much older than Marin, but he had the air of an adult. Dangling around his neck was a golden pendant that shimmered in the fading sunlight. A lion was branded onto it, from what Seiya could see.

“That pendant…” the kidnapper muttered, looking at if he’d seen a ghost. “You- you’re from Sanctuary…”

Aiolia quirked an eyebrow, ushering Marin and Seiya behind him. “You know of Sanctuary? You’re no ordinary kidnapper then. What do you want with these two?”

The man winced, as if terrified of the boy. He didn’t answer, instead he pulled out a handgun from his breast pocket and started firing at them.

In a flash of golden light, Aiolia was suddenly encased in shimmering armor the same color as the pendant he had been wearing. The bullets bounced off the armor effortlessly, as if they were made of foam.

“To fire a gun at those children, have you no pride as a man??”

Hey, you’re a kid too… Seiya thought, jolting in surprise as Marin screamed from beside him. One of the bullets ricocheted and hit her somewhere in the head. All he could see was blood beginning to trickle down her cheek.

“Marin!” 

Aiolia whipped around and, upon seeing Marin collapsed, rushed the kidnapper so fast no one could react. He grabbed the pistol and crushed it in his hands before punching the man, knocking him out cold.

But Seiya couldn’t worry about that now, he was trying to stem the bleeding. He’d seen it on TV once or twice; put a piece of cloth to the wound and hold it there so it could clot. He ripped part of his t-shirt, tying it around Marin’s head as best he could. 

“She’ll be alright.” Aiolia said, suddenly kneeling beside Seiya and thoroughly scaring the crap out of the boy. He swung at Aiolia out of reflex, but the other simply took the punch with no reaction. “It looks like it only grazed her, but I won’t know for sure until I get her looked at.”

“Yeah? And how can I trust ya? You could just be a shiny kidnapper.” Seiya huffed, rubbing his now sore fist. Punching that dude felt like swinging at a brick wall! “If yer gonna kidnap Marin, I’ll fight ya with everything I got!”

Aiolia stared at him, and Seiya felt his confidence waver under the older boy’s sharp gaze.

“W-what?? Ya wanna fight??”

“...

“I’m sorry, could you perhaps speak a bit slower? It’s very hard to understand your Japanese…”

“Ehhhn???”

–

Once they cleared up the apparent language barrier, Aiolia explained that he had come from Greece looking for special children that could harness Cosmo. Originally, he had only come for Marin after Sanctuary had caught wind of her, but then Seiya had shown potential as well.

“If you want, you can come with us to Greece. You’ll train to become a Saint, and earn a Cloth.” Aiolia flicked the pendant around his neck to make a point. “Though, you won’t get a Gold Cloth like mine since all of them are claimed, but it’s still a good goal to work towards.”

“Sounds cool, but I don’t wanna do anything like that. I just wanna stay with the other kids at the orphanage.” Seiya shrugged, gently patting Marin’s head. She’d been asleep this whole time, but Aiolia stabilized her with his Cosmo. It really was just a graze, but the shock of her hitting the ground made her pass out.

“I won’t force you to come with us. I’m worried about that man who was trying to kidnap you two. Have you ever seen him before?”

Seiya shook his head.

“Hm. I need to take Marin to Greece, but I’ll come back soon to check up on you, okay?” Aiolia stood, gently cradling Marin in his arms. “Stay at the orphanage, and never go anywhere alone. And if you change your mind about coming to Sanctuary, I’ll be happy to bring you along.”

Truthfully, Seiya did think about it. But he couldn’t just leave Seika behind. Plus she would never approve of Seiya moving to another country just to learn how to fight. So, he simply shook his head again.

“I won’t leave for Greece, but ya gotta teach me how to do all of that cool stuff ya did!”

“Hey, you can’t have it both ways, you know. If you don't come to Greece, I won’t teach you how to fight.”

“What?? C’mon, if you teach me a little then I can defend myself if that creep ever comes back!”

“Sorry, it's not gonna happen.” The armor formed over Aiolia’s body again and he reached out and ruffled Seiya’s hair. “I’ll be back soon. Remember to stay indoors and don’t go anywhere alone. Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smacked the other’s hand away, but couldn’t avoid feeling a bit sad. He’d only just met Marin and Aiolia, but it felt like he’d gained two new big siblings. There weren’t many older kids at the orphanage aside from Seika and a couple of her friends, so he would’ve loved it if these two could’ve stayed here.

There was a heavy silence between the two, and Seiya really didn’t want to say goodbye to either of them. 

“Seiya.”

He looked up at the other boy.

“You harbor Cosmo within you. Even if you don’t understand or want to now, one day you’ll take up the mantle of a Saint. As so the Goddess wills, you and I will see each other again.” Aiolia ruffled his hair again, smiling. “So don’t cry. I told you I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m NOT crying…” Seiya sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm. “I jus’ got some dirt in my eyes from earlier…

“You better come and see me later. And bring Marin with you too! Otherwise I’m gonna go to Greece and beat you up!”

Aiolia chuckled at that.

“I promise, I’ll see you again.”

“You better!” Seiya dug into his pockets and pulled out the last of the seashells he’d gathered. Three of them, a few small cones with speckled patterns. He reached out and dropped two of the shells into Aiolia’s hand. “There, that’s gonna be the proof of yer promise! You and Marin get one, and I’ll have this one!

“That way no matter where we end up, we’ll always have these shells to remind us! It's a promise and ya gotta keep it!”

Aiolia gently closed his fist around the seashells, apparently lost in thought.

“... Alright, it’s a promise. When Marin wakes up, I’ll give her her shell too.”

Seiya beamed, sticking his seashell back into his pocket. From a distance, the sound of a bell began to chime.

“Oh crap, that’s the curfew bell. I gotta get back!” The boy turned and ran up the street, before looking back and waving. “Ya better keep yer promise, ya hear?!”

Aiolia waved back much to Seiya’s delight, and he quickly disappeared up the hill towards the orphanage. 

You better keep your promise, big brother!

Aiolia, when have I ever misled you? I’ll be back before you know it. 

He winced, immediately shaking his head. No, those memories didn’t deserve to resurface. Not of him. 

“Almost lost my composure there. . .” He took a couple steps forward and then took off, disappearing with a gold streak across the night sky.

–

Tending to Marin took longer than Aiolia anticipated. 

Though the bullet didn’t actually enter her body, the shock of the wound coupled with her head hitting the asphalt was enough to give her amnesia. She could remember simple things, but recent events, names, and faces totally eluded her. 

She also kept asking about her brother, whom she had apparently left behind when coming to Greece.

“Do you mean Seiya?” Aiolia asked, replacing the bandages on Marin’s head. Those with Cosmo were able to heal faster than normal humans, but she was taking far longer than normal to heal. It was part of why he had spent so long tending to her. “He didn’t want to come with us to Greece, so he’s still at the orphanage.”

Marin tilted her head. “Sei…ya? Is…was that my brother’s name?”

“You two were together when I found you. He protected you from that kidnapper.” Aiolia wasn’t sure, but he figured the two had to be siblings. They looked similar, and had similar Cosmo. The way he cared for her and worried after her… Who else could Seiya have been if not her little brother?

Marin looked out the window and nodded slightly. “Right…Yeah. I think I remember that. My brother, Seiya…”

He finished wrapping up her head and gently took her hand, placing the little cone seashell into her palm. 

“Aiolia…?”

“Seiya gave that to me to give to you. I have my own, see?” He showed his necklace, where his Cloth and the cone shell Seiya gave him sat. “It’s proof of a promise. He said we need to go see him again.”

She stared at the shell, gently closing her fingers around it and holding it to her chest. “A promise…to my brother…”

Aiolia stood, deciding to leave her be. He left her cabin and sighed, glancing down at the shell around his neck. It had been nearly a year since they left Japan. Initially Aiolia was going to bring Marin to Greece and then immediately head back to Japan to check on Seiya. However, Marin’s recovery was going at a snail’s pace and he couldn’t risk leaving her alone. Not to mention that all of his requests to leave Sanctuary were denied. He’d always been put under strict surveillance, but this was ridiculous…

“Aiolia? What are you doing here, this is the Amazon  barracks.”

“G-Grand Pope! I was just checking on Marin. She still hasn’t fully recovered, and I―” Aiolia winced as a hand came to rest on his head. Confused, he looked up to see that the Grand Pope had actually approached him to pet his hair. “…Sir?”

“You do not need to walk on eggshells around me, Aiolia.” the man whispered, his voice choked with emotion. Though he wore a mask, his voice seemed to always betray his true feelings. “You should leave Marin to her fellow Amazons. It’s not safe for you to be here. If you accidentally witness an Amazon without her mask, she’ll try to kill you.”

Yes, Aiolia was well aware. It was why he always asked permission to enter the Amazon barracks and avoided visiting after dark.

“Return to your temple.” The Pope stepped away, turning to continue his rounds. 

“Ah, sir!” Aiolia called out, standing up straight. “Uhm, about my request to temporarily leave Sanctuary-”

“There is no need for you to leave right now.”

“I know that sir, but I just- I need to check on someone! He’s a young boy with the potential to become a Saint! Last I saw him, he was fighting off a kidnapper. I just want to be sure he’s okay. I’ll never ask to leave Sanctuary again! Please, let me go see him.”

The Pope paused, the expressionless features of his mask boring holes into the boy. He was worried that he’d be denied again or worse, reprimanded for pushing against the Pope’s words. But he simply had to insist, just this once.

“Please, sir-”

“Alright.”

Ah. . .Alright? He said alright?

“I’ll permit you to leave Sanctuary. If you don’t return by nightfall in three days, I will send Shura to find you.”

Aiolia tensed up, involuntarily clenching his fists. He wanted to protest, but this was exactly what he wanted. If he said something now, the Grand Pope may rescind his request.

“...Yes sir. Thank you for your generosity.” The young Saint bowed deeply, but was quickly waved off by the other.

“Don’t bow your head to me, Aiolia.” There was an emotion in his voice that couldn’t be placed, but it seemed as if the very gesture…wounded him. “Just go and complete your errand. You only have 3 days, don’t waste them here with me.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry- Uhm, I’ll be back soon-” With a flash of gold, Aiolia donned his Cloth and streaked into the sky. The Grand Pope watched as the light eventually faded away before turning and continuing on his way.

Aiolia landed at the orphanage soon afterwards. 

He reverted his Cloth back to a medallion and walked into the building, scanning the surroundings to see if he could catch any glimpse of Seiya. But every child he ran into was one he’d never seen before.

“Excuse me,” Aiolia walked up to one of the caretakers. He was just a child himself, but luckily that didn’t seem to matter to the adults. “I’m looking for a boy named Seiya. Is he here?”

“Seiya? Oh no, he’s already been adopted. It’s been a couple of months, actually.”

Adopted? That made sense, he was an orphan. If a family came and adopted him, there was no point in Aiolia checking up on him. He still wished that he had been able to see the boy before he left, but at least he didn’t need to worry about those kidnappers finding him.

“It’s the darndest thing, though. You could be the spitting image of the man who adopted Seiya.”

Chapter Text

When Seiya joined the Graad Foundation Orphanage, the number of orphans went from 99 to 100. 

Aiolos had personally gone to pick the boy up once reports came of another child with potential to be a Saint. Though the agent tasked with bringing in the child was supposed to bring in a young girl, he had nothing.

“Sanctuary had come for the girl! I couldn’t take her, but there’s a boy at an orphanage near where we tracked her down.” he’d said, getting his wounded hand and face tended. “We need to go back for him, before Sanctuary finds out.”

Aiolos couldn’t agree more, but he didn’t like the harsh way that the Graad Foundation had been obtaining children. Some were fine, found on the street or through normal adoption chains. Others were borderline kidnapped and even beaten. Judging from how this agent looked, he had apparently gotten into a fight himself and lost. Badly.

“We’ll need to mobilize a new group of agents,” Tatsumi sighed, as if the entire process was a chore for him. Despite his loyalty to the Kidos, even he was feeling his nerves being grated upon at being tasked with taking care of so many children all at once.

“I’ll go and retrieve the boy.” Aiolos put aside the clipboard he’d been reading from, standing. “I’ll adopt him properly. No more of your guerilla kidnapping tactics. Imagine what Father would say if he found out what some of your agents have been doing behind his back.”

The two other men immediately averted their gaze. Shame, as Aiolos took it. Good.

“Tatsumi, get the car. We’ll head there now. If Sanctuary knows of him, they’ll be back soon to get him.”

“Y-yes sir!”

–

When they arrived at the orphanage, there were plenty of children running around. Having a great time despite their circumstances , Aiolos noticed. He was no stranger to orphans, even before Mitsumasa had begun his Saint training project. At the very least, these children will grow up normally and not as soldiers of war.

He’d almost changed his mind, but he knew if Seiya was left to be taken by Sanctuary, he’d never survive the training. He needed all the help he could get. 

The caretakers of the orphanage were good people, if not a bit disorganized. It seemed like they weren’t used to people actually wanting to adopt out their children due to their location and the lack of “desirable” orphans.

If Aiolos could, he would have adopted all of them out and found them new homes.

When he laid eyes on Seiya, there was something in him that was reminded of his little brother. They had the same sort of stoic stance and mannerisms, but where Aiolia always felt he needed to be mature and older than his age, Seiya seemed fine with embracing his childish side.

“I don’t wanna go anywhere!” the boy defiantly said. “I made a promise, I’m gonna stay here!”

“Seiya! This nice man wants to adopt you, the least you could do is hear him out!” The caretaker gasped, looking mortified at his response. Though Aiolos understood that children were the most stubborn of all, he didn’t want to force Seiya to do anything that he didn’t want to do.

“You brat, how dare you deny Atsuya-sama’s kindness! Why you-”

“Tatsumi.” Aiolos warned, causing the man to immediately shut his mouth. He then turned and knelt down to Seiya, gently patting his head. “Alright, I’ll leave for the time being, but I won’t give up on you.”

Seiya’s gaze faltered a bit; apparently he was a child that wasn’t used to being listened to properly. While he doubted the orphanage was an issue, it was still unfortunate to see.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother!”

But Aiolos did bother, in fact he visited Seiya every day. Week after week, month after month, Aiolos came to see the boy. Thankfully, it seemed like Sanctuary hadn’t set their sights on him. Though it didn’t stop Aiolos from being cautious. He made sure to never bring the Sagittarius Cloth with him. If he did run into a Saint, arguing that he was simply a normal man would be far easier if he didn’t have a Cloth medallion dangling around his neck.

And as the months progressed, Seiya seemed to become more and more downcast.

“He promised…” the boy would mutter as he looked out the window, fiddling with a seashell that hung from a beaded bracelet around his wrist.

“Who did?”

“Aiolia did.” Seiya responded, huffing loudly. He’d been facing the window, so he missed how Aiolos tensed at the name. “He took Marin away, but he said he’d come back to see me. But it’s been so long. I bet he forgot our promise.”

“...

“He would never forget a promise.” Aiolos said confidently. Seiya simply huffed in response, but Aiolos did not back down. “Aiolia is a good boy. Kind and just. He’d never break a promise, not willingly. He must be held up, wherever he is.”

And it was most likely my fault.

“How d’ya know Aiolia?” Seiya asked, finally turning to look at Aiolos. “...Why d’ya look so sad…?”

“It’s nothing, I… We were close, a lifetime ago. Either way, he would never let you down. Just give him a chance, alright?”

The boy looked down at his shoes, shifting his feet a bit. 

“...If ya know Aiolia, then yer one of those guys too right? The Cosmo guys?”

Aiolos nodded.

“Is that why ya wanna adopt me? To train me to use the Cosmo stuff?”

He nodded again.

“Can my sister come too?”

“If she can’t use Cosmo, she can’t stay at the estate. My Father is very strict about that, but we can find her a new home if you’d like.”

Seiya shook his head. “She can just stay here if she can’t come with me. But I wanna come back for her after my training is done. If you can promise me that, I’ll go with ya.”

That was easy enough, Aiolos thought. This orphanage didn’t get much traffic, and the older a child becomes the less likely they’ll be adopted out. All he had to do was ensure that Seika didn’t wander too far and they could guarantee that the two could reunite in the future.

“I can do that. But understand that this is a dangerous task that I’m asking of you. Nothing is more important than your life. If you don’t want to risk yourself, I can arrange for you and your sister to go somewhere else. Somewhere far away, safe.”

Somewhere that Sanctuary can never reach.

“This is the best way for me to see Aiolia again though, right? He said that we both use Cosmo, so one day we’ll see each other again. I wanna help him keep his promise. And to do that, I gotta learn this fighting stuff.”

Aiolos forced a smile. Despite it all, he couldn’t bring himself to tell the boy that if he sees Aiolia again, if they meet as two Saints wearing Cloths, it will be as enemies. As long as Aiolia sided with Sanctuary, he would be an enemy to Saori. Though that didn’t stop him from hoping that his kid brother would eventually choose to work alongside them.

“You’ll see him again, of that I’m sure.” Aiolos nodded, sticking to half-truths despite the bitter taste it left in his mouth. “Do you have much to pack? We should leave soon.”

“Uhm, I just have some clothes ‘n stuff. I can use my backpack!” 

“Good. Grab everything and say goodbye to your sister. I’ll finish things up with the director of the orphanage.”

Seiya nodded and ran up the stairs, leaving Aiolos behind to finish the adoption.

–

Swinging open the door to the room he shared with his sister, Seiya grabbed his backpack and began stuffing all of his personal items into it. He didn’t play with toys and he didn’t have any stuffed animals, so it really was just clothes that he needed to pack. He was just thinking about how many different red shirts he owned when the bedroom door opened again behind him.

“Seiya?” came a soft, tentative voice. It was Miho, he’d quickly realized.

“Miho? What’s up?”

“Is it true? …Are you really being adopted?”

She’d heard about that already? He’d only just agreed to it a few minutes ago!

“Didja hear about it from the adults? I’m gonna go with Mr. Atsuya for some Saint training!”

Miho tilted her head in confusion. Geez, he never understood why she did that. It reminded him of a puppy. Kinda cute, now that he thought about it.

“Did you tell Seika?”

“I’m gonna tell her before I leave! Have ya seen her?” Seiya zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. There was a side-release buckle that kept the two straps locked in place, which is why this was Seiya’s favorite bag. No risk of it falling off if he’s running around! He had just finished clicking the buckles in place when Miho squeaked in surprise.

“Seika-san-”

“Oh, Neesan, perfect timin’. I’m gonna go train to be a Saint! Mr. Atsuya said that I’ll see Aiolia and Marin again, so I’m gonna give it my all!” 

Seika simply stood in the doorway, her hands folded over her chest. She looked…pained.

“Why do those two matter so much to you?” she whispered, her hands lowering and gripping at the front of her skirt. “You’re chasing after two people who you barely know, who haven’t even come back to see you. Why?”

Seiya blinked, finding her tone strange. He’d told her all about Marin and Aiolia before; she knew why this was so important to him.

“Well, we made a pro-”

“A promise, yeah. But what does that matter? They’re not here. You don’t even know if they kept those shells! You’re abandoning us for people who don’t care about you!” Seika cried, clenching her fists.

Miho and Seiya recoiled from the outburst. Why was she so angry? And why did she assume he was never coming back?

“Neesan, I’m not abandonin’ anyone- I’m gonna go train for a while and then when it’s done, I’m gonna come back! Mr. Atsuya promised-”

“You don’t even know that man either! He’s come here every week over the last 5 months just to see you! Why aren’t you more weirded out by that?!”

“He kept visitin’ cause he was tryin’ to be nice! If he were a creep, he would’ve just kidnapped me like that other guy tried to do!” Seiya shouted back, finding that he was defending himself despite feeling he had done nothing wrong. “What’re ya so mad for?!”

“Because if you leave me too, I’m gonna be all alone!” She looked down to hide her face, but telltale droplets fell from her eyes to the hardwood floor below. Her shoulders trembled and her little fists were clenched so tightly the knuckles turned bone white. “First someone tried to kidnap you, and now there’s more weird men in suits trying to take you with them. 

“I heard what that man said. If you go, there’s a chance you could get hurt, or worse . How can I ever be okay with that?

“What will I do if something awful happens to you?!”

The silence that hung over  them was thick, broken only by Seika’s soft sobs. Beside her, Miho fought back her own tears. She was always so sensitive to other people’s emotions, the type to cry at the slightest hint of tears from someone else. Seiya felt horrible that she was so upset, but he had made up his mind.

“I’m not gonna die, Neesan.” he approached her, looking up into her eyes. “I’m gonna go to this training, I’m gonna become a Saint, and I’m gonna come back. I promise I’m gonna see everyone again; You, Marin, and Aiolia. 

“So ya hafta believe in me! I’m never gonna give up, so ya can’t give up on me before I even start!”

Seika sobbed, wiping at her eyes despite the tears never stopping. “How can you promise something like that? You don’t know what the future will bring, what if you can’t keep your promise?”

Seiya thumped his fist against his chest, smiling wide. “I always keep my promises! I don’t care what I hafta do, I’m gonna come back. I’m gonna see everyone again. Next time ya see me, I’m gonna be a total badass!”

She couldn’t hold back her laughter, looking down at him. Seiya, her baby brother. He looks just like mom , Seika realized, resisting the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair. “Okay. I’ll let you leave, but you better be the best Saint ever!”

He beamed, his grin crooked and toothy from a couple missing baby teeth.

“I’m gonna be the best! No matter what!”

Miho giggled from her spot beside them, shaking her head. “He’ll be Saint Seiya, won’t he? That’s so funny, it really rolls off the tongue.”

“Saint Seiya! I like that!”

The three laughed away the tension together, talking and making promises until it was time for Seiya to leave.

–

Seiya got into the back of the car with Atsuya, keeping his single backpack of items close to himself. Now that it was time to leave, Seiya found himself feeling apprehensive. 

“It’ll be okay, Seiya.” Atsuya smiled, as if he could read the boy’s thoughts. “Don’t worry about anything.”

The boy would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately soothed by Atsuya’s words, but when he looked out of the rear window and saw Seika and Miho waving to him with tears in their eyes, he almost started crying as well.

“If you want to cry―”

“I don’t! Tell me about this training camp or whatever!” Seiya huffed, sniffling and sitting back down. 

“It’s not a camp, per say.

“You’ll be living on my family’s estate for the next 4 or so years. Then, you’ll all be sent to different training grounds across the planet to earn your Cloths.”

“My clothes?” Seiya tilted his head, gesturing to his backpack. “I’ve already got clothes though.”

Atsuya chuckled, shaking his head. “Not clothes. Cloths. They’re a special set of armor that proves you earned the right to become a Saint. There are 88 different constellations, and while I would love to hype you up that you’ll earn a Silver or Gold Cloth, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“All of the Gold Cloths currently have users, for one. Plus it’s extremely rare to have multiple Gold Cloth users in one time frame. You and the other children will all gain Bronze Cloths, as long as you complete your training.”

Seiya looked down at his dirty sneakers, tapping the toes together as he thought things over.

“Can I upgrade to a Gold Cloth later?”

Atsuya crossed his arms, apparently deep in thought. “It’s… extremely rare for Saints to upgrade their Cloths. Typically whatever you earn is your Cloth until you…” he trailed off, seeing how Seiya’s eyes sparkled in anticipation. “...Uh, until you retire.”

“Awh, that sucks… Hey, is that what Aiolia was wearing? A Gold Cloth?”

Atsuya tensed at the name. Seiya noticed he did that a lot whenever he brought up Aiolia. 

“...Yes, Aiolia is the Gold Saint of Leo. Aside from him, there are 10 other active Gold Saints, all attributed to the Zodiac.”

“The Zodiac…” Seiya knew of it, vaguely. It was something the girls of the orphanage loved to talk about. Apparently they were tied to the months you were born, and had something to do with personalities or whatever. But there was something off about what the older man had said.

“10, plus 1… That’s 11.”

“We got a genius on our hands.” Tatsumi snorted from his position in the driver’s seat. Atsuya shot him a glare and despite not being able to see him, the man instantly straightened up.

“Yes Seiya, you’re correct.”

“But aren’t there 12 Zodiacs? What happened to the last one?”

The two adults stiffened immediately. Seiya was confused; had he said something wrong?

“He died,” Atsuya said with a thin smile on his lips. “He made a mistake, crossed the wrong person, and was killed for it.”

There was something strange in Atsuya’s face. It was like he was telling a story that he witnessed personally. The aura in the vehicle began to feel heavy; suffocating. Chills shuddered through Seiya’s spine. It felt like Cosmo, but it was nothing like the weak puffs he had used, or the quick spots of electrifying warmth that Aiolia had. This was something stronger.

Something that was hiding, just below the surface.

“Mr. Atsuya, did you―”

The car screeched to a stop, sending Seiya tumbling down off the seat. 

“Tatsumi, a little warning next time?” Atsuya leant down and helped Seiya up, gently pulling him back up into the seat. The aura in the car had loosened up, it seemed. 

What was that about?

“I’m sorry sir, but the young lady―” Tatsumi immediately got out of the vehicle and opened the door for Atsuya and Seiya. As they climbed out, Seiya was knocked flat yet again. This time, it was because someone had practically shoved him out of the way.

“Daddy!!”

“....Daddy?” Seiya echoed, turning to see a girl. She had a short bob of sienna hair and was wearing a fancy looking dress. Miho would’ve loved a dress like that…

The girl had jumped into Atsuya’s arms, and suddenly he was nothing like the man Seiya had just been riding in the car with. He spun the girl around so many times, both of them laughing and screeching as if having the time of their lives.

“Uh….Mr. Atsuya…?”

“Oh!” He stopped, turning over to Seiya as the girl scrambled over him like a jungle gym to cling to his back like a little frilly koala. Atsuya knelt down and helped Seiya to his feet, gently dusting him off. “I’m sorry about that, sometimes it’s easy to lose track of things when Saori is around!”

“Saori?” Seiya echoed again, looking at the girl. She had bright blue eyes that seemed to stare through him, but otherwise she was really cute.

“Saori, this is Seiya. Greet him properly, please?”

The girl hopped down and walked up to Seiya. Yep, up close she really was super cute. And she smelled like flowers. And sugar. He wanted to greet her, or shake her hand, but he knew better.  She was very obviously a rich kid. He was just a ratty orphan with cheap clothes. There was no way she’d even bother with him.

“Seiya huh? I like that name…”

“...What?”

“Your name. I like it! My name is Saori, I’m the little miss of this manor. Do you want to meet the other boys?” Saori reached out and grabbed Seiya’s hand, pulling him towards the giant building in front of them. Whoa whoa, this was going way too fast― She was TOUCHING his HAND!

“W-wait! My hand- it’s dirty! You’re gonna get dirty!” Seiya cried, trying to yank his hand away so he could at least wipe it off on his shirt, but Saori’s grip was strong. Scary strong.

“Huh? Everyone’s hands are dirty! We can just wash them later!”

She didn’t even care that she was touching an orphan? What about all of those books and movies he saw where rich people are mean to poor people? Was that just not the norm? Actually, now that I think about it, Mr. Atsuya is really nice too…

“Uhm! Miss Saori-”

“Just call me Saori!”

“S-Saori-”

“Yes, Seiya?” She paused, turning to look at him. Still holding his hand, he noticed.

“I can walk on my own, you don’t have to hold my hand…”

“But it’s faster this way, right? This way we won’t get separated and you won’t get lost!”

Seiya had the feeling that he really wasn’t gonna win this discussion. “Look, just let me-”

Suddenly, a loud shriek resounded a few feet away from them. Seiya turned immediately, seeing a blond boy in a purple shirt. He was pale, as if he’d just witnessed the worst thing ever.

“Oh great,” Saori whispered, her expression falling. “It’s Jabu.”

“Who’s Jab-” Seiya started, before a fist connected with his jaw.

Chapter Text

“Oh great,” Saori whispered, her expression falling. “It’s Jabu.”

“Who’s Jab-” Seiya started, before a fist connected with his jaw. For the third time in less than 10 minutes, Seiya was tumbling to the ground again.

“How DARE you lay a hand on Lady Saori!” the blond boy, Jabu, shrieked again. Seiya decided he really, really hated how this kid sounded. And on top of that, he hated that this stupid guy got a sneaky hit on him!

“Jabu!” Saori cried, stamping her foot in anger. “You always do this! Seiya is the newest orphan, I was just bringing him to the barracks!”

Jabu blinked, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. “Oh Lady Saori, I thought that that scruffy boy was trying to hurt you!”

“You always use that excuse too…” she exhaled, going over and helping Seiya up. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” Seiya rubbed his cheek, feeling the pain to the bone. He’d fought other kids before, but this was something different. That punch REALLY hurt, more than what a normal little kid could do. 

“I’m so sorry about Jabu. He keeps saying he’s my sworn knight or whatever, so he attacks people who get too close to me.” Saori gently put her hand on Seiya’s face. “He hit you with Cosmo… Jabu, what were you thinking, you could have killed him!”

Jabu immediately feigned innocence, shaking his head. “I-I didn’t mean to, Lady Saori! But with all the training, sometimes it’s hard to turn off my Cosmo…”

She seemed to believe him, and turned to look at Seiya again. But once her gaze was off him, Jabu had a smug look on his face.

He’d done it on purpose!

Two can play at that game.

Seiya immediately doubled over, holding his face. “Owww… I ‘hink I broke some’fing…” 

“O-oh no! Look what you did, Jabu! What if you broke a tooth or worse, his jaw?! C’mon Seiya, let’s go tell Tatsumi.”

Suddenly, the smug look on Jabu’s face fell away. There was the very unmistakable look of fear on his face. “N-no! Anything but that! Please, Lady Saori!” Tears started to well up in his eyes and his whiny voice got even whinier.

Seiya raised an eyebrow at that. So the asshole was scared of Tatsumi, huh? That could be catalogued for later use.

“S'okay, Saori. I think I can sleep it off with just an ice pack.”

She looked a bit confused at Jabu’s reaction, only being shaken out of her thoughts when Seiya spoke up again. “Huh…? Oh! Okay, sure. Let’s go to the barracks okay? Jabu, go run some laps or something- And wipe your nose!”

Saori took Seiya’s hand again and continued to walk. When he looked back at Jabu, that look of fear shifted into something else entirely.

A look of hatred.

–

Once Seiya didn’t have to worry about Jabu sucker-punching him again, the tour of the estate went without a hitch.

There really were a ton of other kids here, and they all seemed to be around the same age as Seiya. Saori let him speak to some of the kids, and a few of them had pretty flawless Japanese. Others were somewhat shaky at it, implying that that wasn’t their native language. 

“Oh sure, it was kinda hard to communicate at first,” said one pretty physically fit brunet boy, who was currently running across an obstacle course when the two had walked up, “There were kids here from places I’d never even heard of!”

“That’s because you’re an idiot, Ban.” another boy snickered, sitting at the top of a set of monkey bars. His eyes were all black from what Seiya could see, and he had long white hair. “This big fool didn’t even know what Russia was.”

“Come on, Ichi, that’s not even fair!” Ban whined, stopping short of a bunch of tires to turn and grimace at the other. “When was I ever going to need to know that info??”

“Well, what if they send you to Russia for your training?”

“...Wait, they can DO that? But I don’t speak Russian!”

Everyone but Ban laughed at that outburst, and after a bit of back and forth, Seiya and Saori waved goodbye and continued on their tour of the grounds. So far, everyone Seiya ran into was easy to get along with. Some were a bit more prickly than others, like one older kid with wild navy hair and a vicious scowl on his face, but otherwise it was a fairly pleasant time.

Seiya was comfortable with the fact that at least he’ll have some friends here.

“And this is the barracks!” Saori said, gesturing to a large building. It looked recently built, or at least recently remodeled. It looked new at first glance but was definitely here for a while judging by the surrounding area.

“Barracks?”

“This is where all of the orphans sleep! There’s exactly 100 beds, and everyone has to claim their bed when they move in.” Saori opened the door, leading Seiya inside. Just as she’d said, there were a ton of beds in the giant room, and yet it didn’t look cluttered or anything.

Though it was mostly empty with only a few other children inside. They all seemed to be doing things like reading or writing in notebooks, except for one child that was sweeping the floor. Seiya noted how cute the other looked; with fluffy green hair and a soft, delicate looking face. A girl, he thought. Surely she wasn’t here to train too?

“Shun!”

“Oh, Miss Saori!” the green haired child said, and Seiya realized that he was a boy from the sound of his voice. He put the broom aside and ran over to Saori, hugging her waist. He had to have been the same age as Seiya and the others, but he was so tiny!

Shun looked over at the brunet, tilting his head.  “Who’s this?”

Saori seemed happy to return the affection, squeezing Shun into a tight hug. “This is Seiya, the last orphan to join us! Can you help him find his bed and put his things away? I have to go speak with Daddy and Grandfather.” 

Shun’s expression immediately brightened, and he nodded quickly. The two separated and Saori walked to the door, casting a glance to Seiya.

“Seiya, make sure you’re nice to Shun, or I’ll never forgive you!”

“Huh- Why would I be mean to ‘im??” He cried, but Saori had already left and shut the door behind her.

Now it was just Seiya and Shun. 

“Uhm, Seiya?” he tentatively said, picking up the broom again. “I can lead you to your bed now, if you want.”

“Oh sure.” Seiya looked around. There really were a whole bunch of bunk beds. Did all of the kids really sleep in this room together? Shun walked him over to a set of beds near the front left corner of the building, leaning down and opening the trunk. 

“This is where you store all of your stuff! The chest is split in half, so everyone has equal storage space.”

Seiya nodded, looking down to put his backpack into the chest when he noticed the items inside. Just clothing, like he had, but it was all shades of purple. Purple?

“Was there someone wearin’ a ton’a purple…?”

“Oh, one of the beds in this bunk belongs to―”

“Hey, what are you doing rummaging around in my stuff?!”

That annoying, grating voice… Oh, it was impossible to forget who owned that voice.

“...―Jabu.” Shun grumbled.

–

Aiolos entered the main mansion, taking off his jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack. The butlers always got annoyed with him for not letting them properly take his coat, but Aiolos never did feel comfortable handing things to people as if they were beneath him. Luckily the entire manor was busy directing workers on a project that Mitsumasa commissioned a few weeks ago; a planetarium for Saori.

This is for her to learn more about the constellations and stars, Mitsumasa had explained when Aiolos asked, it’s the perfect way for her to get comfortable with her future Saints.

Aiolos thought it was a pretty good idea. Besides, he’d never seen a planetarium before. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in seeing it himself.

However, none of that concerned him right now. Aiolos needed to take a bath and get ready to go over the reports from the Saintia schools. Then he needed to advise the chef that there were 100 children to feed now, not to mention needing to advise the language teachers and instructors.

“If I stayed in Sanctuary, I would’ve had to have done similar tasks when I became Pope…” he’d muttered to himself, feeling his emotions become… complicated. Sanctuary, the Pope, and Aiolia. 

Aiolia…

His kid brother had come to Japan. He was so close, and yet so very far. Truthfully, Aiolos had hoped that Aiolia would have returned for Seiya while he was waiting at the orphanage. If he could have had the chance to speak with him again, he―

“Ah, Atsuya.”

Atsuya blinked, looking up at the grand staircase. At the top stood Mitsumasa, his expression just as cold and unreasonable as ever. It made Atsuya mentally grimace.

“...Father.”

“You’ve finally returned. Did you manage to recruit the final boy?” Mitsumasa walked down the staircase, approaching the other man and standing beside him.

“I did, yes. Saori is showing him around the compound now.”

“Perfect, perfect.” The old man seemed delighted, scratching his beard with his dominant hand. “We can proceed with the training in full swing then. You did wonderfully, son.”

Atsuya smiled, practiced and perfected. This was just an alias, all pretend, but he always got the distinct feeling that Kido seemed to think that Aiolos truly was his son. “Thank you, Father. I need to go inform the chef and instructors about the new addition, so if you’ll excuse me―”

Mitsumasa waved his hand and Tatsumi seemed to appear out of nowhere. Where on earth had he appeared from…?

 “Tokumaru, please go inform the team about the final child.”

“Yes sir!” The man bowed deeply and left just as suddenly as he had arrived.

“...Father?”

“Let the servants and Tokumaru handle the foot work. I have something important to show you.” Mitsumasa put an arm around Atsuya’s shoulders, leading him up the stairs. “Do you recall that topic we discussed a year or so back? About the armor?”

Atsuya tentatively raised an eyebrow. “Your inquiry about how to create a Cloth? Yes, I recall. Why?”

The two walked up to the second floor and towards the wing of the mansion that Mitsumasa normally kept his trophies or used to take guests and plan his future projects. 

“I’ve been looking into the Cloth recipe you mentioned, and the ingredients were quite fantastical. Stardust sand, orichalcum, gammanium; all very strange items. Mythical even.”

“Well, yes.” Atsuya replied, his expression turning more and more incredulous. “These are all components from the Age of Myths. According to the documents I studied when training to become the Pope, the materials are completely unknown to normal humans. Only the residents of Jamir and the Muvians know how to gather all three.”

“What if I told you I found all of these mythical ingredients?”

“I would be forced to call you a liar.”

The two stopped in front of a door, which Mitsumasa unlocked with a key that hung around his neck. He led the younger man in and turned the light on, causing Atsuya to instantly recoil from the sudden glare of 6 spotlights in the room. 

“Why do you have so many lights in here??”

“They’re not lights, my boy. Open your eyes; perceive what mankind can do when presented with the impossible.”

Atsuya slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room. Mitsumasa was right, these weren’t spotlights. They were sets of golden armor, 6 total. Up close, it was very apparent that they were knock-offs of the Sagittarius armor, missing the wings and bow and sporting strange helmets, but Atsuya could feel the power emanating from them.

“These are… Cloths…”

“Indeed. Well, as close as normal humans can get. It lacks the life and raw power of the original, but these copies were made from all of the same materials.”

Mitsumasa approached the armor and put his hand on the glass display case. “We weren’t able to collect enough to fully imbue the armors, but each one has an equal amount of mythical materials with the rest of the mixture being gold and other precious metals.”

Atsuya couldn’t restrain his awe. They were crude, sure, but this was the first time he’d ever heard of someone outside of Jamir creating a Cloth. 

“How did you find the alchemy and recipes to do this? The Muvians―”

“These ‘Muvians’ are not the only ones who can create armor.” Mitsumasa shook his head. “Refining the materials was an ordeal, but there is nothing that science cannot figure out. Even your Cosmo can be explained with a bit of a stretch to physics.”

Atsuya couldn’t take his eyes off the armor. They truly did look strange up close, but he thought they were wonderful. Human ingenuity was truly amazing.

“Can they be worn?”

“They can, but that’s not the point of these armor sets. This is for us to throw off Sanctuary.”

“What?” The brunet finally turned to look at the older man, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

Mitsumasa hit a button on the wall, causing all of the glass cases to slide open. He reached in and grabbed one of them, the armor transforming into a medallion in his hand. The medallion looked nearly identical to the original Sagittarius one. Atsuya was actually impressed.

“We’ll anonymously distribute these across the planet, leading Sanctuary on a wild goose chase. Hopefully these will be enough to buy time until we send the children out to their training grounds.”

“That…is actually a decent idea. But what convinced you to do this now of all times?”

The man scratched his beard, returning the armor to its case. “Your lady friend has been protecting the estate with her Cosmo, but I worry for her wellbeing. It cannot be safe to keep that up for long.”

Atsuya had to agree with him there. Marzipan lived on the estate to care for Saori, and when she wasn’t acting as a nanny she was posing as a shrine maiden at the edge of the compound. To protect the mansion from prying eyes, she used her Cosmo to create a shield to disguise the Cosmo of the many children gathered here. However, she kept this shield going day in and day out, even while she slept. She must’ve been feeling burnt out. If these armor sets could give her a break, even for a moment, then it was worth it.

“How do we distribute them?”

“We’ll send them out one at a time. Once Sanctuary claims one, we wait for them to realize it’s fake, give them a cooldown period, and then release another. The hope is we can keep this going for at least 4 or 5 years until the children are ready to leave.”

Atsuya nodded, plotting the timeline in his head. It was pretty ingenious, and as long as they covered their tracks there was barely any risk of the fake armor being tracked back to them. However, Atsuya wasn’t sure of how exactly Mitsumasa obtained the materials to make them. If Sanctuary thinks of tracking back the actual distribution, then that would cause an issue in its own right.

“You’re wondering if anything about the manufacturing process could be traced back, aren’t you?”

“Ah-" It was like the old man could read his mind sometimes. "Well, these are mythical materials that we’re talking about-”

“The Graad Foundation has pull all over the world, and anyone who is deemed a security risk is properly handled. There are only three people on the planet who still know where and how those materials were acquired; my trusted business partner, Tokumaru, and I.”

“...Handled? What does that mean?”

Mitsumasa chuckled, reaching a hand out and ruffling Atsuya’s hair. “I’ve eased your worries, have I not?”

Truthfully, he hated how the other man tended to ignore or avoid answering his questions by asking other questions or changing the subject. But he couldn’t lie, it did ease the worries he had. And as long as Mitsumasa wasn’t doing anything that could potentially put Saori at risk, Atsuya had no reason to care what the old man did in his spare time.

Atsuya bid farewell to Mitsumasa and left the armor room, shutting the door behind him. And yet, something about their conversation still rang out in his mind. 

He decided to go and speak to his closest companion for some much-needed advice.

–

“You think Mr. Kido is hiding things from you?” Marzipan asked when Aiolos sat with her for tea at her small hut at the edge of the compound. There was a large lake nearby, and beside it was the area that Marzipan worshipped and managed all on her own. Normal shrine maidens manage Shinto shrines, but Mitsumasa had built a gazebo and statue of the goddess Athena out by that same lake. Despite it being a normal statue at first, Marzipan had placed a Seal of Athena on it, granting the statue a faint air of divine Cosmo.

Aiolos glanced towards the statue, feeling comfort under its watchful gaze. Even Saori seemed to find herself drawn to the statue, and sometimes they found her staring at it wistfully. Aiolos wondered if she could sense her own Cosmo exuding from it. 

Aiolos took a sip from his tea cup.

“I’m not sure, but there’s been a lot of strange instances since I came here. After all the good he’s done for me and Saori, I find it hard to press the issue with him as it feels like I’m being ungrateful or needlessly suspicious. But I cannot turn off my instincts, and they―”

“They warn you that you’re in the presence of something dangerous?” Marzipan concluded, to which Aiolos immediately nodded.

“I know you only use your divination for important circumstances, but you have visions sometimes as well, no? Have you seen anything that could help me with this?”

Marzipan scoffed, setting her tea cup down. “It’s not like watching a movie or picking an episode to review, my visions are sporadic and random. They can’t be forced, nor can I focus them on one specific situation. When the goddess graces me with visions, I accept them no matter what they may show.”

Aiolos was afraid of that, but he felt he had to ask just in case. If he wasn’t able to use supernatural means, then his only option now is to ask or snoop around.

“But, I’m glad you came to visit me. I did actually have a divination recently that I needed to share with you. It came to me violently, in the dead of night. The Goddess must have thought it was of utmost importance.”

“Oh? I’m listening.”

The Saintia took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. How odd, she never needed to mentally prepare for visions or divinations before. Aiolos suddenly had a bad feeling. Was this something about Saori? Or Sanctuary?

“This was a warning,” Marzipan began, and Aiolos felt the blood drain from his face.

“A warning… for Saori?” 

She shook her head. “No. It was a warning for you.

“If you keep your promise with the Pegasus, you will be faced with a trial that will test your loyalty to the Goddess. You will need to choose between the past and the future.”

“What…what does that mean? What Pegasus?”

Marzipan simply shook her head again. Yes, Aiolos should have known better. Even if she knew what it all meant, she would never tell him. To change the course of a divination or vision could be disastrous. All he could do is wait for the trial to come to pass and hope that whatever it is, he picks the correct answer.

“...

“I won’t betray Saori. Never. Whatever this trial is, I’ll overcome it.”

The silence that settled over them was tense, thick enough to slice through with a knife. Aiolos was confused, he’d answered from his heart. He knew he would never do anything that would ever insinuate his loyalty to Athena, to Saori, would ever waver. And yet, Aiolos felt like he’d just walked into a trap.

“I know you will, Aiolos.” Marzipan smiled, bringing the tea cup to her lips. “You always make the right choice. I believe in you.”

Her words, though he knew they were genuine, did nothing to comfort him. There was something in her face, her eyes, that worried him to his core. She’d said she believed in him, and he believed her in return, but…  

Why?

Why are you looking at me like you’re viewing something heartbreakingly tragic? 

Why do you look like you want to cry for me?

Chapter Text

For months after their discussion, Aiolos was dreading the meaning behind Marzipan’s divination. 

He still had no idea what the Pegasus was supposed to be. The only thing he could think of was the Pegasus Cloth, but it was an unclaimed Bronze Cloth in Sanctuary. And, as far as he could remember, he never once made a promise to a Cloth. There was never an owner for it in the entire time he was at Sanctuary as well. 

So maybe this meant a literal Pegasus? But he’d certainly never seen one before, least of all made a promise to it.

This wasn’t the only headache Aiolos had to deal with either; the newest child, Seiya, was apparently a troublemaker who always got into fights with other children, specifically a boy named Jabu. The instructors always had complaints about the two of them, but the trainers thought they were wonderful students.

Even Saori was worried about Seiya despite never being too close with any of the other children, aside from Shun.

“Seiya always takes up everything all on his own,” she had said, fastening a flower bracelet she'd hand-woven to Aiolos’ wrist. “I wish he would stop, I’m worried that he’s going to get hurt…”

As a father, her attachment to this boy somewhat…annoyed him. However, it was not like he could forbid her from seeing him. And it wasn’t like he was bullying or hurting her, or anyone for that matter. Seiya only ever seemed to be retaliating, especially in defense of other children.

A headache, but a well-meaning headache.

“Atsuya-sama, are you heading out today?” Tatsumi asked, trailing behind Atsuya as he took his coat from the hall closet. Truthfully Atsuya had hoped he wouldn’t run into the other man, but Tatsumi always had the ability to simply pop up with no warning. 

“I’m going back to the orphanage to check on Seiya’s sister.” Atsuya pulled on his coat, reaching into his pocket to check for his keys. Mitsumasa had bought Atsuya a car for his last birthday, and he was honestly happy to have it. He didn’t need a driver to use it, and sometimes driving when the sun was setting was a good way to clear his mind.

“Ah, I see.” Tatsumi seemed a bit apprehensive, as if he wanted to say something.

“...

“Is there something you need, Tokumaru?”

“Oh! Well, it’s nothing extremely important. I was actually going to run an errand, but today is training day for those orphans, so I can’t be far from the estate today. And I can’t trust any normal person to handle this―”

Atsuya was slowly growing tired of this.

“Get to the point please, Tokumaru.”

Tatsumi quickly presented a thick manila folder, bowing his head as if he’d done something wrong. “Can you please deliver this to the address on the front?? All you have to do is put the folder into the mail slot, there’s no need to hand it to a person at all!”

Atsuya blinked slowly. The folder, though lacking any logos and identifying information on it, was apparently filled with documents from Mitsumasa himself. He could tell by how the label was handwritten, which was rare for the old man to do. Whoever this was going to had to be important, as was the information inside.

He’d had a devious thought.

“... Of course, Tokumaru.” Atsuya smiled as he always did, gently taking the folder from the other. “You’ve always been a help to me since I’ve arrived. I can do this simple task for you.”

Tatsumi looked elated, as if he were just blessed by a god. “A-Atsuya-san, you’re a Saint! You won’t regret this, I’ll make this up to you!”

Atsuya simply kept the smile on his face, tucking the folder under his arm. The irony of the man's statement was not lost on him. “Not anymore I’m not.”

The bald man was completely oblivious to the tone that Atsuya had used, but he was too thankful to care in the moment. He shook Atsuya’s hand a few times before heading out to the back door of the manor, going towards the training ground.

Once the man was completely out of sight, Aiolos’ smile fell. He glanced down at the folder and left out the front door, getting into his car and leaving the estate.

Aiolos drove out to the orphanage by the shore, casting glances towards the folder the entire ride there. Even when he parked the car, he couldn’t help the lingering gaze on the folder in the passenger seat. 

I could open it.

I could open it, read what’s inside, and close it without anyone realizing.

Aiolos put his hand on the folder, but was immediately overcome with a sense of guilt. Why was he so distrustful? For all he knew, this folder was simply business information for the many legitimate sources and outlets that Kido runs throughout the Graad Foundation. 

Deciding to table this moral dilemma for now, Aiolos put the folder in the backseat and got out of the car. It was still daylight out, so he had time to visit Seika and deliver the envelope before it got too late. Though Tatsumi did say that all he had to do was deliver the documents into a mail slot. So surely it didn’t matter when he delivered it, as long as it got there today.

He’d been lost in thought as he walked up to the door and entered the orphanage.

“Ah, speak of the devil. Atsuya, hello! We were just talking about you!”

“Mn.” Atsuya muttered in response, walking past a boy who was standing at the desk to speak with the caretaker. He felt eyes boring into him, but he was used to that after taking up the Kido namesake. Everyone knew him even if he’d never seen them before.

“I’m here to see Sei-” he paused, just now processing what had been said to him. “...We?”

“Yes, this boy had come here to see Seiya! I was just telling him how you two looked similar!”

Similar?

Atsuya felt his body prickle at the words. Similar. He knew that logically that word could mean anything, but there was only one person who was similar to him that had been seen in this area recently. He didn’t want to turn around but knew he had to be sure. It could be anyone. It could be anyone. It could be―

“Aiolos…?”

He knew that if he turned around, if he acknowledged the name, it would be all over. Atsuya knew that, and yet, he couldn’t control himself. He turned to face the boy behind him and saw him. Perceived him. His expression; rife with surprise and heartbreak. With betrayal. How he was so young, but looked so much older than he remembered. Atsuya loosed a shaky breath.

...Aiolia.

–

Atsuya finished his check-up with Seika and left the orphanage, heading back to his car. It wasn’t a long walk before, but now it felt like an eternity. Especially because he had a very insistent shadow on his tail.

“Hey! Hey, don’t walk away from me! I know you’re Aiolos! I can sense the Cosmo within you!” The boy cried, looking like a cat with its hackles raised. It was so cute, Atsuya forced himself to look away.

Ah, I want to hug him so badly… 

“Stop ignoring me, damn you!!” Aiolia sped forward, suddenly standing between Atsuya and his vehicle. “Lack of response is just an admission of guilt.”

“Alright. I am not Aiolos.” he grinned, watching the veins in the other’s temple bulge in anger. 

“You know what I meant.”

“Do I? Pardon me.” Atsuya gently pushed Aiolia aside, opening the driver’s side door and getting in. As he buckled his seatbelt, he was acutely aware of Aiolia sitting directly beside him in the passenger seat. Right, super speed.

“... I don’t recall giving you permission to get into my car.”

“Yeah? Then force me out.”

Atsuya squinted at the other. They both knew very well that he was simply playing a role here. Atsuya wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Aiolia. This was a game, whoever gives in under the pressure of their respective ideals first loses. Atsuya could have easily flung the boy out, but if he did that he’d prove Aiolia right. Which is exactly what the other was banking on.

“...Fine. I’ll drive you home. Where’s your address?”

“Greece.”

Atsuya glanced at the instrument cluster on his dashboard.

“...Mm, I don’t have enough gas to get us there.”

“Oh I see you became a mediocre comedian in the years you’ve been gone, because that wasn’t a good joke.”

Atsuya chuckled, putting the car in drive. “I thought it was pretty funny. My daughter would’ve loved that joke.”

The car went silent, and he was not ignorant to the utter look of shock and horror on Aiolia’s face at the statement. Just as he’d planned. Round 1 goes to the older brother, he thought gleefully, getting back onto the main road.

The two sat in silence. Atsuya debated running his errand and then finding a way to ditch Aiolia, but he knew he couldn’t go anywhere that the boy would be able to track back to him from. Though, he knew Aiolia’s time off Sanctuary had to have been limited. Unlike himself, Aiolia wasn’t a coward. He never would have run away from his responsibilities.

Atsuya pulled the car into the parking lot of a small family diner.

“...Where are we?” Aiolia gruffly said after glancing at the building. He’d been raised in Sanctuary his whole life, and surely wasn’t allowed to leave before these current two times Aiolos had heard of. He’s never experienced any of the modern comforts outside of those walls. 

“I’m gonna treat you to lunch, and then you need to return home.” Atsuya opened the door for Aiolia, glancing in the backseat to see the envelope sitting there. 

“Alright… What is that?” he pointed to the envelope as Atsuya grabbed it and folded it vertically, tucking it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“Just something I need to deliver later. Shall we?”

The two walked into the small restaurant and sat down at a booth seat. Aiolia picked up the menu and grimaced. His conversational Japanese was nearly flawless, but reading it was certainly a whole different beast for him. Atsuya called the waitress over, holding his own menu.

“Green tea for me. For the boy, get him one of everything on the menu.”

“W-wait! I don’t need all of that, just one dish is fine!”

“Nonsense!” Atsuya smiled. “You’re a growing boy, and you look so skinny… Let me spoil you!” He confirmed the order with the waitress, smiling despite the worried expression on her face, turning back to Aiolia. He knew Aiolia could eat a lot, a side effect of his Cosmos burning so strong since he was young. If he didn’t properly metabolize energy, he’d be lethargic and unable to utilize his abilities properly.

He knew that Aiolia had been eating less, or skipping meals entirely. It wasn’t a joke when he said Aiolia looked skinny. And when he had used his super speed, Atsuya was still able to properly perceive his movements. Normally, even Aiolos had trouble keeping up with Aiolia when he was in top form. 

It didn’t take long at all for the food to leave the kitchen.

They either knew who he was, or simply wanted to get them out of the restaurant as fast as possible. Either way, this helped Atsuya get some time to think.

While the boy fidgeted in his seat, probably embarrassed at the looks the waitress was giving him as she set plate and plate in front of him, Atsuya took a long and pensive sip from his cup of green tea.  

“Have they been mistreating you?”

Aiolia picked up a fork, shaking his head a bit. “No, it’s nothing crazy like that. I just… I don’t feel comfortable eating around other people. I eat quick meals and leave to train.” As if to avoid talking any further, he began to devour the food before him. 

The two didn’t speak for a while, the only sound between them was the sound of empty plates being stacked and quiet sips and gulps. When Aiolia had nearly finished his ninth plate, he lowered his fork a tad.

“Something the matter?” Atsuya asked, tilting his head. Aiolia avoided his gaze, as if disappointed in him.

“...

“So, you started a new family?”

He paused, wondering what Aiolia had meant by that before remembering that he had mentioned his daughter earlier. Right, he hadn’t explained that part, had he? Atsuya took a couple sips from his green tea as Aiolia continued.

“I guess that makes sense. It’s been almost 7 years, right? Anyone else would move on,” Aiolia took a bite of the tamago sandwich on his plate. “What’s your wife like? …Did you at least talk with Saga first?”

Atsuya sharply inhaled, getting a hearty splash of tea down the wrong pipe. He sputtered and coughed, grabbing a napkin to wipe the mess away from his mouth. “W-what?? I didn’t- koff koff ”

The boy raised an eyebrow, apparently confused at his reaction.

“It’s nothing like that! I’m not dating anyone at all, and Saori―” he looked around before leaning in to whisper, “Saori is my adopted daughter…”

Aiolia seemed to believe him, thankfully, but Atsuya was aware that he fully gave up his ruse. Though it didn’t seem that the boy cared, considering he already knew exactly who he was. What a headache he was!

But, the mention of that name from his past made the memories of Aiolos’ final night at Sanctuary come rushing back. Saga…

“...How is he?” Aiolos asked, his expression mournful. Maybe even with a hint of longing for how things used to be.

There was a pause as the younger brother decided to polish off his sandwich before responding. There was something in his face, like he didn’t want to speak on it. “...I don’t know, truthfully. I haven’t seen him at all since you left.”

Aiolos felt his heart painfully seize in his chest. Saga had gone missing, and the last time he had seen him was…

“And you’re sure? Has there been anything about him at all??”

“Ah- Yes, I’m pretty sure- I mean, I haven’t seen him at all. The Gemini armor is still sitting in its temple, and I’ve heard some rumors that the temple was abandoned.” Aiolia took a few sips from his cup of cold tea, “I was speaking with Milo before―”

“You and Milo can talk to each other normally?” Aiolos asked, temporarily stunned.

“...He and I were talking a while ago, and he mentioned that Saga wasn’t at the meeting the Grand Pope held after you left. He wondered if maybe Saga was also ousted for being a traitor, or because he was close to you.”

Aiolos looked down at his cup. It was nearly empty, and there was some tea powder residue forming at the bottom of the cup that didn’t properly dissolve during the mixing process. He thought back to the night; the bodies of the Saintia left discarded unceremoniously, the Grand Pope looming over Saori’s crib, the glimmering golden dagger in his hands.

The mask that was knocked off his head during their scuffle and the oh-so familiar face that had lay beneath it.

Saga’s face.

There were only two outcomes that Aiolos could think of. Years of waking to the nightmare of Saga’s face on the body of Saori’s would-be murderer had forced him to try and rationalize it. And after nearly 7 years, he’d come to only two outcomes.

One, that whoever was posing as the Pope was capable of disguising themselves as others. Some sort of chameleon, a shapeshifter that could hide as anyone.

Or the second option, that it truly was Saga beneath that mask.

Aiolos drank the last of his green tea, shaking his head. No matter what, the second option simply couldn’t be true. He refused to believe it in any regard. Saga was kinder and more just than anyone he’d ever met. Saga loved Athena with his whole heart. He would never have tried to kill her. Even if he were threatened with death or could no longer control his body, he would do everything in his power to fight. But there was still that sneaking suspicion in the back of Aiolos’ head.

What if he’d been fooling you your entire life?

Aiolos sighed, trying to erase that thought from his mind. If he lost trust in Saga, then who could he trust? He tried to go back to the first option. The chameleon, who could pose as anyone and blend it without an issue. Who could wear Saga’s face and get away with it. 

If Saga had been killed or ousted, then whoever they are had to be strong. Aiolos couldn’t even recall the last time he’d spoken to Saga after the birth of Saori. He’d said that he had to go speak with his brother, so he had left for the outskirts of Sanctuary. But after that point―

“...?”

His brother…That’s right, Saga had a younger brother. Aiolos remembered it because he had tried to bond with Saga over their siblings, but the aubergine haired man always seemed to consider his sibling a touchy subject. Even Shion, the Grand Pope who had been preparing them in their studies, said that Saga had a strange dedication to his brother. As if he were making amends for something. 

There was something about them that was notable, but Aiolos couldn’t recall what it was.

“Wherever he is, I hope he’s doing okay.” Aiolia had spoken up, finishing the last of the food on the table. The waitress and a busboy had come to start clearing the plates away, and to refill their drinks. “The Gemini and Sagittarius temples being empty is a huge detriment for us. If only Saga had a clone or something that could take his place.”

Clone?

Suddenly the memories came back to him. A childhood friendship between not two, but three children. They were the only ones in their age group back then, and they had been born and raised to be Gold Saints.

Aiolos, Saga, and Kanon.

“Kanon…” How could Aiolos have forgotten him? He was the spitting image of Saga, because they were identical twins. They smiled the same, and the shine in their eyes was the same too. Their hair was different however, with Saga sporting a deep purple hue and Kanon with a gentle turquoise hue. To the untrained eye, they were fully and truly identical. Aiolos could always tell them apart, but under low light, in a high emotion confrontation, could even he confuse them?

What if it wasn’t Saga’s face he saw that night, but Kanon’s? If only Saga disappeared and Kanon took his place as the Gemini, which was his fate as the younger twin, then Aiolos wouldn’t have suspected him at all. But both of them disappeared? Surely not…

“I don’t want to talk about Sanctuary anymore,” Aiolia shook his head, picking up his refilled cup and drinking half of the contents in a couple of gulps. “Let’s talk about your current life, Atsuya .”

Yes, he was aware the conversation would come to this eventually. Aiolos simply nodded, prompting Aiolia to continue.

“I assume whatever you’re doing here is serving some sort of purpose, but I refuse to get behind your methods. You were never the kind of person to be so. . .violent. How could you have people pull a gun on children?”

“Wait, what?” This was the first Aiolos had heard of this. Guns? As far as he was aware, it was extremely hard to have permits for guns in Japan. He’d seen one or two in passing during some gatherings that Mitsumasa hosted, but he wasn’t aware that anyone he knew owned one. “What are you talking about?”

Aiolia looked a bit confused, so he recounted his experience with Seiya and Marin months earlier. How a man had tried to kidnap the two and when Aiolia intervened, the man had shot at him. Marin was injured, but Aiolia explained that she was fine aside from the amnesia that she currently suffered from.

Atsuya was shocked, for lack of better words. He recalled the conversation with the man who had been tasked to bring Seiya, but not once did he mention shooting at the children or trying to kidnap them. Sure, he’d been more concerned about a Gold Saint arriving on scene, but why had he omitted such details? Was he hiding that he had done it himself, or was he hiding that he was sent to retrieve the children by any means necessary?

“I can’t…” What? Believe it? It should’ve struck him as odd, how Mitsumasa managed to find 100 orphans in such a short time frame. How the children had arrived, some battered and bruised, others traumatized and lacking a light in their eyes. He’d just assumed it was from their respective lots in life, but now he wondered if it wasn’t because of their upbringing, but instead how they were gathered.

There was a blinding surge of rage that pulsed through his veins. What if this was what Mitsumasa had been hiding from him? When he said that he’d handled people who were loose ends, did he mean so literally? How much blood was on the old man’s hands, and how much of it was all Aiolos’ fault? 

He fought the urge to slam his fists on the table, knowing that his strength would destroy it immediately. Slowly, he lowered first his fists, and then his forehead to the table.

“A-Aiolos?” Aiolia meekly asked, reaching a hand out but stopping just short of touching him.

What was the truth? What was simply speculation? What if he was wrong? But what if he was right?  He’d felt strange about how the man acted, in his heart he knew there was something amiss. But he had no proof, he couldn’t just ask Kido to confess. If he was hiding this, then he would spin some manipulative yarn to divert. Maybe he would even blame an innocent party.

“Saori, help me. Please, help me…” Aiolos whispered fruitlessly through a clenched jaw. There was nothing his goddess could do for him, she was just a little girl. She hadn’t awoken to her Cosmo yet, and Aiolos harbored no gifts for divination. If he wanted to know the truth, he had to find it for himself. He took a sharp inhale, slowly sitting up. There was a soft crinkle from within his jacket, and absently he removed the offending item from his breast pocket.

The manila envelope.

“Hey, that’s the thing you needed to deliver, right? What’s even in there?” Aiolia asked, innocently. 

“Let’s find out.” Prior moral dilemma be damned. He popped the envelope open without breaking the seals, pulling out a thick stack of documents. Exactly what he had expected was within, but it was the words on the documents that mattered to him. He quickly began to skim each page, looking for anything; a single shred of proof either confirming or denying Mitsumasa’s innocence. Perhaps this folder meant nothing, these documents had nothing to give, but he couldn’t be sure until he read every single page.

It was mostly numbers; receipts and bills for services. Out-sourced hiring, contracts, resources, it all looked entirely normal. Aiolos was slowly losing hope (and his patience) when he got to the last 7 pages of the document. They were odd in that they weren’t typed; they were handwritten, in Mitsumasa’s signature penmanship. It was a letter of sorts, for whoever this package was intended for. Seeing nothing else in the bundle, Aiolos decided to read the letter.

My Beloved,

I wish we could speak to each other without this pretense of business and receipts. You blamed me for our child leaving home and running off, but you never once listened to my side of the story. I hope this letter finds you well, and you read to the end properly.

I’ve found our child again, in fact he came to me for help! He, and our grandchild. Can you believe that? We’re grandparents! She’s a beautiful little girl, surely she takes after you.

Surely you’ve seen the lengths I’ve gone to to protect her. I know you were opposed at first, but you’d understand if you saw her. Gathering children to sacrifice for our little goddess is nothing. No life is more important than her or our family. One day she will protect the world from the evil old gods, what does it matter if a few inconsequential lights go out in the meantime?

I’ve reconciled our family, but all we need is you. Return to the estate, meet your grandchild. Let’s all be a family again.

Aiolos was glad that he’d decided not to eat anything, but even the green tea he drank threatened to violently eject itself from his stomach. The letter was the delusions of a madman, rambling about being chosen by God as Abraham had been, throwing away the lives of innocents to pave the way for his ideals. But that wasn’t the strangest part.

It seemed like Mitsumasa was speaking to someone, a former lover of sorts. And he was under the impression that Atsuya and Saori were truly his flesh and blood. The seven pages were nothing but ramblings, but these weren’t normal delusions concocted from nothing. No, these seemed deeply rooted in something feasible, like Mitsumasa was telling a truth, but it was his version of the truth.

It simply made no sense! And despite the tone of the letter, the name of “Beloved” is never once mentioned. It was like the old man was talking to a memory and refused to refer to them by name, but instead like an object. Like something he owned and was entitled to have returned to him.

Aiolos stuffed the papers back into the envelope and read the front where the address label was located. There, once again written in Mitsumasa’s handwriting, was a name and address.

V. Guraad, the recipient of this bundle of bills and nonsense. He’d vaguely recognized the name, it was nearly the same as the name of Kido’s foundation. Whoever this person was, they harbored more power than Aiolos could fathom.

And if they knew Mitsumasa and was estranged from him at least emotionally, they might be the best person to speak to in regards to what the old man was doing behind the scenes.

“Aiolos? Did you find what you needed?” Aiolia had asked, snapping Aiolos back to reality. Yes, he’d almost forgotten that the boy was here.

“I may have found a lead. I’m sorry, but I need to handle this.” He waved down the waitress and pulled out his wallet. If he was going to catch this Guraad person, then he needed to act quickly before it got too dark. The longer he was away, the more suspicious it would seem. 

Aiolos took out a wad of large bank notes, quickly calculating in his head how much the food was and throwing in a few extra thousand yen on top of the total for the trouble. He handed the money to the waitress, thanked her for her service, and quickly left the diner. He was halfway to his car when he felt a hand grab his arm.

“Aiolos, wait.” Aiolia looked up at him with a pained expression. “Why are you doing this? I’ve never seen you emote so negatively before.”

The older man paused, placing his hand on the other’s. “I have to do this. Go back to Sanctuary, forget you saw me.”

“No! No, I-...” Aiolia looked to the side, biting his lip. “...Come back with me.”

“. . . What?”

“Come back to Sanctuary! The Goddess and the Grand Pope will forgive you if you just explain what happened! Whatever you’re dealing with here can resolve without you! If it’s only going to make you suffer… Please, just come home.”

Suddenly, Aiolos was reminded of his conversation with Marzipan months earlier.

If you keep your promise with the Pegasus, you will be faced with a trial that will test your loyalty to the Goddess. You will need to choose between the past and the future.

At first, Aiolos had no idea what promise or what Pegasus she was referring to. But today’s situation made sense if he looked at it just a bit deeper.

A promise with the Pegasus; he’d promised to take care of Seika until Seiya’s training concluded. The Pegasus must have been referring to Seiya, which must be what Cloth he was destined to claim once he finished his training.

A trial that will test his loyalty to the Goddess, a choice between past and future; Here was his brother, his past, asking him to abandon his life here, his future, to return to Sanctuary. 

Aiolos understood now why Marzipan looked at him like that. This was a heartbreaking trial indeed. But his answer now is the same as it was back then.

“I need to stay here. I’m sorry.” Aiolos, no, Atsuya, removed himself from Aiolia’s grip. He smiled, that perfectly practiced and rehearsed smile that he saved for when he was playing a role. “I’m sorry.”

The look on Aiolia’s face, ah, that look. It was the same as when he first laid eyes on him earlier in the day. A look of heartbreak. Of betrayal. Of mistrust. Atsuya took that as the final say on the matter, turning to get into his car. From behind him, there was the tell-tale glow of golden light.

A Gold Cloth.

“Fine, you want to stay here and play house all by yourself? Then I’ll do what Shura couldn’t.” Aiolia whispered, his voice stony and cold. The light in his eyes was gone, eaten away by the Cloth shimmering on his body. “I’ll bring you back to Sanctuary. Whether you’ll be breathing or not remains to be seen.”

In a flash imperceivable to the eye, Aiolia had lunged forward with the intent of a predator going in for the kill. Fangs bared, like his constellation.

This was bad, horrendous even. Aiolos never brought the Sagittarius armor out with him as a precaution, but of course the one time he would need it would be in a fight with another Gold. He could potentially hold Aiolia off for a few seconds, but in a war of attrition he would quickly lose the upper hand without an armor to protect his body.

He put his arms up to defend himself, hoping that at least he could eat a portion of the damage while he thought of a plan.

The two collided, but the pain that Aiolos expected never came. Instead, it was Aiolia who was sent sprawling.

“Whu- What…?”

There was a heavy Cosmo permeating in the air around Aiolos. It was warm, full of love and worry. The flower bracelet on his wrist, given to him by Saori, was emitting a protective field. She’d heard his prayer, and helped him just as he'd asked.

“Thank you, Saori.”

Aiolia shook his head, visibly confused. “Athena’s divine Cosmo…Why is she protecting you? I thought you had tried to kill her when she was a baby-”

Aiolos felt weight on his neck and shoulders, as if someone were hugging him from behind. Something Saori loved to do to show her affection. Athena's Cosmo condensed further, transforming into the Golden bow of Sagittarius. As he held the bow in his hands, it felt as if he’d never stopped wielding the armor. Like everything had fallen into place. He used his own Cosmo to form an arrow, nocking it and taking aim at Aiolia. 

“Go back to Sanctuary. Question everything, trust only what you see with your own two eyes.”

The divine Cosmo condensed and swirled around the arrow, and with one smooth motion, one he’d done thousands of times before, he loosed the arrow. It struck the Leo Cloth directly in the breastplate. Unable to stand against its Goddess, the armor instantly reverted to its medallion form. Aiolia was entirely unharmed, though he looked extremely shaken up.

“Give me time. I’ll return to Sanctuary, and everything will become clear.”

The bow dissipated, probably returning back to the main Cloth body. Saori’s Cosmo didn’t fully disappear, but it did fade once he was no longer in danger.

Aiolia still looked confused, still looked hurt, but he said nothing else. He reapplied his Cloth and took off into the sky, a bright gold comet streaking across a setting sun. 

Atsuya looked down at the folder in his hands. Now that Aiolia had been dealt with, he only had one more confrontation to endure.

“V. Guraad. I’m coming for you next.”

Chapter Text

Atsuya had finally made it to the address written on the envelope.

 There were plenty of times during the drive that he had second thoughts. He wondered if this was worth it, or if this Guraad person would even be able to help in any way that mattered. Either way, he needed to get to the address to deliver the envelope. He had until he opened the mail slot to decide whether or not he truly wanted to move forward.

With a hand outstretched, he grabbed the handle of the mail box and had just started to place the envelope inside when he had the distinct sense that there was someone watching him. Slowly, he dropped the envelope in and began to back up, glancing up towards the building. Instantly, a curtain hanging in one of the windows on the first floor fell back into place.

Whoever was watching him didn’t want to be seen. Ironic.

At least Atsuya knew that someone was home. That was a good enough reason to approach the door and see if the watcher would answer. 

The building, he noticed, was huge and foreboding. It seemed more like a courthouse rather than a home, but it was beautifully built. And it was well maintained also, judging by the landscaping around the areas that he could see. This made sense, assuming this Guraad person really was as influential as Mitsumasa was. Or at the very least, managed everything business related for him. 

Atsuya approached the building and simply knocked on the door. There were some noticeable sounds of scrambling before the lock was turned and the door swung open. Standing there was a young woman with messily tied up black and white hair and wearing casual home wear. She didn't look to be someone who was the appropriate age to have worked as a business partner for someone as old as Mitsumasa. 

“...You’re not Tatsumi.” the girl mumbled, looking Atsuya up and down. 

“I’m sure the hair clued you in?” he joked, and the girl immediately smirked in response. 

“That was part of it, sure. Are you looking for someone in particular?” 

Atsuya took out the pages of the letter that he had swiped from the envelope, pointing down at the name he’d written at the top. “Are you V. Guraad?”

“Oh, no. She’s in her office currently. Come in, I’ll let her know that you want to see her.” 

The woman let him into the house, shutting the door behind him and leading him to what seemed to be a living room. Aiolos sat down politely, placing the papers on the coffee table in front of him.

“I’ll go tell her, just wait here for a bit!”

He nodded, watching as the woman disappeared around the corner. There was some apprehension, and the more he sat alone the more Atsuya seemed to realize just how strange they were all acting. His own actions aside, the woman had been apparently spying on him before willingly letting a stranger into her home without even asking what he wanted. Worried that he had somehow made a mistake, Atsuya decided to get up and leave when the woman returned with a serving cart. 

“Where are you going? Do you have to use the bathroom?”

“N-no, I was just wondering where you were-” And her way of speaking was so informal it was almost vulgar. Most people who spoke to him were the exact opposite, overly formal and trying to stay on his good side. This woman didn’t seem to care who he was, as if he were nothing but a man to her. 

Well, I AM nothing but a man to her…

“Ehhn? I was just preparing some tea! Here, I’ll serve you a cup.”

Atsuya sat back down, watching as she poured a cup of tea for him and modified it with sugar and cream. She set the cup in front of him and he lifted it to his lips to take a sip. In the meantime, she sat on the opposite side of him, nibbling on one of the wafer cookies on the tray.

“Sooo, you’re the illustrious Atsuya Kido huh? …You’re pretty huge in person, what are you cultivating those muscles for? And why are you so tall? If someone saw us side by side, they’d never believe we were siblings.”

Atsuya paused. 

The woman, either on purpose or inadvertently, ignored his reaction and continued talking. “Plus you don’t even have the white streak in your hair. That’s the staple of our family, you know. We get it from Mom’s side of the family. Some sort of weird gene or birthmark in the hair color itself. Though I guess you could argue that you dye it so it’s not as apparent, but if you’re going to play the part you really have to do better research. But, hmm, it probably falls under something that Dad should’ve told you. Actually I–”

“Hold on,” Atsuya raised a hand to stop her from continuing her train of thought. If he let her, she would probably talk his ear off! “What on earth are you talking about? Who even are you?”

“... Ah! I didn’t introduce myself, huh? Shoot, that was always something that Mom was scolding me about…” The woman sat properly with her hands folded in her lap. She bowed her head, smiling gently.

“A pleasure to meet you, big brother Atsuya. My name is Hoshiko Guraad-Kido, aka, your adorable little sister~!”

–

Saori knelt by her bedroom window, pressing her folded hands to her chin. It had been at least an hour since she had the very real sense that her father was in danger, but after the initial feeling it all disappeared. And she had no word on Atsuya. 

“Miss Saori?” 

The sienna-haired girl turned to the sound of the voice. “...Mii?”

The little blonde girl smiled and brought over a tray with a cup of barley tea. “You should drink this, you’ve been sitting at that window without moving for over an hour now. It’s not good on your knees either…”

Saori sighed, sitting down on a nearby ottoman and taking the cup of tea. However, instead of taking a sip, she stared down at the swirling liquid and ice cubes. 

“It’s just so strange, I’ve never worried about daddy’s safety before. He always seems so… so…”

“Strong?”

“Yes, he’s very strong! I guess I always felt like it would be impossible for him to ever have to worry about anything. But I had the feeling that he was in danger, and my heart ached for him… I just hope he’s okay.” Saori took a small sip, but really didn’t feel like finishing the drink. She set the cup aside and looked out the window again.

Mii couldn’t help the frown that settled on her face. She hated seeing Saori upset, especially if it was something that Mii couldn’t solve with her own two hands. She hated feeling useless, and hated not being able to help Saori.

“Don’t worry, Miss Saori.” Mii bit back the frustrated tears that threatened to overtake her. “Mr. Atsuya is very strong as you say. He’ll never go anywhere without telling you first.”

At that, Saori seemed to cheer up. “Yes, he would never leave me. I think I should just trust him to come home.” 

When Saori finally seemed happier, Mii found herself cheering up as well. She handed the cup of barley tea to Saori again and tilted her head. “Would you like to have some cake for your snack? I have your favorite, brown sugar.”

Saori smiled just as Mii loved, bright and happy.

“Yes, thank you!”

–

“My… sister?”

“Well yeah, you’re the son of my dad, meaning that I’m your sister.”

“Your logic isn’t really working out here- I didn’t even know you existed until just now. In fact, there is a lot I am very confused about.” Atsuya had pinched his brow, trying to understand what exactly he’d gotten himself into. He was only coming here to see Guraad, and instead he ran into her daughter? Her daughter with Mitsumasa of all people? He grabbed the letter and reread it a few more times. Kido did mention a child, but the delusional ramblings were all tied to him. But maybe they didn’t originate with him?

When he explained himself to Hoshiko, she suddenly seemed to understand everything. 

“Oh yeah, there’s something wrong with Dad. Mentally, but also physically.” She pulled out her hair tie and ran a hand under her long two-tone hair, flipping it over her shoulder with one motion. “Mom says he’s been a little off ever since they met, but she was fine with living with it. Til death do us part and whatever. But apparently after I was born, Dad took a turn for the worse.

“Mom didn’t think it was safe for me to live with him, so she moved out and took me with her. We still saw him and all that, but the time alone must’ve really messed with his head further. And honestly, I only made my mom’s life harder with everything I did. I got pregnant young, and the guy I was with ended up dying in a train accident so I had to move back home. Can you believe it?”

Atsuya frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Eh, well…” Hoshiko paused, seemingly not wanting to speak of it anymore. “It was around the time you appeared that I heard about what Dad was doing, and that he was making Mom do stuff with their business connections. He always said it was for us, for his child and grandchild, but he wasn’t talking about me and Mei. It’s like he replaced us in his heart and brain with you and your girl.”

“I- I didn’t do that on purpose- I didn’t even know you existed-!”

Hoshiko tilted her head back and laughed. 

“I’m not mad at you, not at all. It’s not like you did any of it on purpose nor are you taking advantage of the old man. If anything, he’s taking advantage of you.” She grabbed another wafer and bit it clean in half. “I don’t really understand what Dad was so excited about. Something about gods and ancient warriors… I consider myself an atheist, honestly.”

Atsuya furrowed his brow. “The gods are very much real. I recommend you be careful what you say-”

“Or what? They’re gonna smite me?” Hoshiko polished off the rest of the wafer, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t really care either way, but this whole thing about gods and stuff is taking over my family. My mom, my dad, my son, even my apparent brother and niece. It’s just… it’s so tiring. I really don’t care about any of it at all.”

The two fell silent, the only noise echoing between them was the ticking of the grandfather clock. What could Atsuya say? Even if Hoshiko tells him it’s not his fault, he knows that in some regard this all fell on him. He didn’t pay close enough attention to Mitsumasa. He didn’t ask enough questions. He aided in the rift this family was enduring, and he had absolutely nothing to say about it. 

“Hoshiko–”

“What do we have here?”

The two young adults turned as an older woman strode into the room. She had the same white streak in her hair as Hoshiko, but it was just one bold streak as opposed to Hoshiko’s two-tone combination. There was a militant air to her, a very no-nonsense kind of aura that instantly caused Atsuya to stand.

“Hey Mom.” Hoshiko chirped, causing Atsuya to quickly stumble out a greeting.

“Hello madam, or erh… Mother..?”

The woman’s face scrunched up in annoyance.

“Come off it boy, I didn’t give birth to you.” She glared down her nose at him and he immediately sat back down. “You must be the poor bastard that Mitsumasa conned into playing house with him. What is your name?”

“A-Atsuya Kido, ma’am.”

“No, the name your birthmother gave you.”

“...

“Aiolos, ma’am.”

Guraad paused, as if digesting the name before committing it to memory. “Aiolos, I'm Lavender Guraad. But most just call me Vander. Are you Greek?”

“! Yes, ma’am!”

“That fits with what Mitsumasa told me. You, the ancient warrior of Gold who bestowed upon my foolish mortal husband the task of caring for the goddess Athena. Did you also convince him to gather these ‘cosmic orphans’ to learn to fight a losing war?”

A pang of guilt ripped through Aiolos. 

“I didn’t- I… Maybe in some way I did, but I didn’t-”

Guraad sighed, sitting down in the armchair beside the coffee table. She smoothly crossed one leg over the other and crossed her arms as Hoshiko trotted over to sit on one of the armrests.

“What do you want from me, boy? What brought you here instead of just speaking directly to Mitsumasa?”

“I know he’s lying to me. That he’s hiding things. I… just want to know the truth. Where did he get all of the children? Were they really volunteers and orphans? Is he using Athena, Saori, as an excuse to do horrible things?” Aiolos got down on his hands and knees, pressing his forehead to the ground. “I need to know, please.

“Please, Madam Guraad.”

“Hey, Atsuya-” Hoshiko began, but Guraad waved her off.

“And what would you do if I told you? Would you take your Saori and run off? Would you free those orphans and send them back to their broken homes? Or perhaps would you take revenge on me or my husband?”

He did not raise his head from the ground, but spoke clearly and without falter.

“I would do better. I wouldn’t run away, not after everything that was done for me and Saori. But I would hold Mitsumasa accountable, I will properly train the children to ensure they have a fighting chance at life, and prevent him from hurting anyone else.”

“It’s a heavy discussion. Surely you came here knowing you would learn something that would break your heart, hm?”

He clenched his fists in the rug beneath him. 

“I harbor gratitude for Mitsumasa. Nothing more. Especially not if he did something horrible just to rip children from their homes. Please, Madam Guraad.”

“Atsuya-” Hoshiko knelt beside Aiolos, trying to get him to sit up to no avail. She had no chance of moving a Gold Saint, after all. She turned to her mother instead, frowning up at her. “Mom, don’t make him grovel at your feet-”

“I never told the boy to kneel.” Vander countered, but did tap her foot to get Aiolos’ attention. “Raise your head. What would your goddess think if she saw you dirtying your forehead begging an old woman for information?”

Aiolos sat up straight, folding his hands in his lap. “Madam?”

“I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

The two looked excited, much like children on Christmas day, and Vander found it eerie how similar they seemed to act. Was it simply the influence of children raised as Kidos? Or simply the whimsy of youth?

Whatever it may be, she commanded the two to sit and began to confide in explicit detail all the things her people had been hired to handle, as well as where each yen paid by Mitsumasa ended up.

Everything, from the paying off of families to sell their children, to the kidnappings, and even the murder of a young mother in an effort to rob her of her child. As each receipt of Mitsumasa’s sins left Vander’s mouth, they obviously settled heavily on Aiolos’ shoulders.

If he had never stumbled upon the old man, these children would still have their homes. Their simple lives. And in some cases, they would still have their families. It was all extremely hard to handle for someone like him. However, the feeling wasn’t entirely foreign to him at the same time.

Aiolos recalled his training back in Sanctuary. The tasks of the Pope, of Saints who went off to find and recruit new trainees from other quadrants. What was the difference between Mitsumasa and Sanctuary, at their core? They were both larger than life organizations that recruited children to train under near fatal circumstances all to become a Saint of Athena. If he had never been ousted, if he had taken up the Pope’s mantle as his predecessor intended, would he still be in this same situation, with this same feeling lingering over his head?

He shuddered, deciding not to think too hard about it.

“And what are your opinions of me? Despite it all, I had helped Mitsumasa. Even if I argued that I didn’t know much, my involvement is very clear. Will you report us to the authorities?”

Aiolos shook his head. For all he knew, telling the police would do absolutely nothing for him. The two had gotten this far without any consequences. Going out of his way to put himself and Saori in danger was the worst possible idea here. But he didn’t want this to seem like he was condoning her actions either.

“I can’t erase what you did, and I can’t forgive you for aiding Mitsumasa no matter the level of knowledge you had on the situation. However, you can help me stop him. You knew there was something wrong with him, you distanced yourself to the point of only conducting business with him. Help me now, and you can argue the morality of your prior actions with whatever god you serve when you die.”

Vander couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You’re very strange. A logical person would simply turn us in and hope for the best. But you have too much at stake for that, don’t you?”

Aiolos nodded.

“I don’t really care what you want to do at the end of the road here, Aiolos. But I don’t like the idea of Mitsumasa using you and our family for his own glory. So I’ll help you in any way I can.”

–

Atsuya had spent far longer at the Guraad residence than he was initially intending. After settling some details and exchanging contact info with Vander, he headed to his vehicle to return home. 

No more detours, he promised himself, putting the car into drive as he noticed Hoshiko approaching.

“A lot of heavy stuff, huh?” she mumbled after he rolled the window down, a lot less energetic than she had been earlier. Atsuya couldn’t blame her, she’d just found out her mother and father were kidnapping orphans to train them to be warriors. Any normal person would be stunned after that bombshell. 

“Yeah, very much so.”

“...

“I don’t really know how you got to this point, with my dad and everything, but I think you’re so strong. It’s like… nothing phases you. I wish I could be like that.”

Atsuya shook his head. “I’m not infallible. I’m often shaken, scared, and upset. I’m just better at keeping it all internal than most people. You shouldn’t wish to be more like me. I’m pretty odd.”

“That’s true,” she laughed, seeming a bit more at ease despite everything. “But that doesn’t really change how I feel. I want to know more about you. We should hang out sometime.”

“... Perhaps we should.”

They were silent for a bit, and Atsuya had taken that to assume that the conversation was over. He began to roll up the driver side window when Hoshiko spoke up again.

“Say, how old are you?”

“Atsuya turns 30 this year, I believe.”

“No, not Atsuya. You, Aiolos. How old are you?”

Now that, he had to think about. He was 18 when Mitsumasa found him, and it’s been almost 7 years since. So, that meant…

“I turn 25 this year.”

Hoshiko smiled, folding her hands behind her back. “I turned 24 this year. That means you’re still a little older than me. When’s your birthday?”

“November 30th.”

“I’m July 30th! If only we were born in the same year, I’d be older than you.”

Atsuya blinked in slight surprise. “You’re a Leo?”

“Hm? Yeah, I am.”

At that, he simply couldn’t help but laugh. What were the odds of something like that?

“Hey, what are you laughing for?” she leaned into the window, smiling despite her confusion. 

“I just find it funny how ironic the world is sometimes.”