Archive of Our Own

 "You betrayed me. You betrayed my trust. You betrayed our friendship. You betrayed everything... you let me down!"

"Then why are you helping me?"

"Why? Do you think that I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?"

--12th Doctor and Clara Oswald (Doctor Who)

Pietro greeted Sheena at the city gates with a warm, if slightly awkward, hug. She came often as one of Luin’s major trade partners, but today was the start of their harvest festival, which had become legendary in Sylvarant over the past years since the reunification.

“The place looks great!” Sheena exclaimed. “You guys really went all out for the decorations this year.”

“You can thank Teresa and Sara for that. They roped in everyone, even the newcomer.”

“The newcomer? You guys get a dozen new people coming through here every day,” she laughed, following him down the main thoroughfare. “What’s so special about this one?”

“He’s been livin’ at the inn for almost a year now. Most newcomers get themselves a house by then, but he don’t seem to be in a rush about it. Real nice guy though, always helpin’ Teresa and Nico out with cooking and cleanin’. Especially since Teresa’s not as mobile these days.” She relished in hearing Pietro’s voice. He still spoke softly, and occasionally his stutter came back, but his recovery really had been amazing.

“She’s due soon isn’t she?” Teresa and Nico were some of the first people Sheena had made friends with in Sylvarant. Nico was from Asgard originally, but Teresa was Luin-born and bred. The last time Sheena had come through, Teresa had announced that she was pregnant. They already had a son—Luke, a foundling as the inhabitants of Luin called them. The orphans left scattered after such massive destruction as Luin, or Palmacosta—but this would be Teresa’s first biological child.

“In a few weeks supposedly.”

“Sheena!” a familiar voice bellowed. Nico was impossible to miss—a mountain of a man, with a wild tangle of dark curls that were held back by a very valiant hair tie.

“That’s my cue. I’ll see you around, Pietro.”

Nico’s hugs were rib-crushing, and he jabbered about all the things Sheena had missed in the past months. He would be a good father, and Luke waved from where he was helping haul crates.

Teresa waddled out, heavily pregnant. Sheena hugged her carefully over the belly, and presented her with a pale pink omamori, embroidered with purple flowers, and the character for protection in gold thread.

“For a safe childbirth and health for you and the baby,” Sheena said. “

Teresa kissed her cheek, eyes a little watery. “You’re so kind.”

“Of course. Anything for you guys. I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to come give it to you in time. You been holding up okay?”

“You worry too much. People have babies every day. And—ah, you haven’t had a chance to meet our newcomer, have you? He was helping set up lantern...there he is! Yamato! Come over here!”

The man that they pointed out was of an average height, with strong shoulders, but an overall slim build. He was dressed plainly, but he wore a cowl over his face, so that all that was visible were his eyes and the frizzy cloud of dark brown hair.

As he came down from the roof, and turned around, his brown eyes went wide at the sight of Sheena. Her throat went tight because she knew this man, had known him literally as long as she could remember.

She had not seen Kuchinawa for almost five years now, not since his exile. To find him here, in Luin of all places, felt like the world had shifted out of phase.

Kuchinawa held out a hand, eyes guarded, even as his voice was perfectly friendly. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms….”

Whatever Kuchinawa was doing here, he wouldn’t bring harm on innocent people. Of that, Sheena was quite sure no matter how much he might have changed. So she shook his hand, and introduced herself like they hadn’t shared a bathtub as kids. “And you’re…?”

“Yamato.”

“Nico and Teresa haven’t been driving you too crazy, have they? I hear you’ve been staying with them.”

“They’ve been very kind.”

“See, some people appreciate us, Sheena,” Nico sniffed, unable to hide his smile.

“Look at this beautiful charm she gave me, Yamato.” Teresa held out the omamori. “It’s to protect me and the baby.”

His eyes went hard, but you couldn’t hear it in his voice. “That looks beautiful. And very thoughtful. I still have some more work to finish up there. Excuse me.”

“He’s kind of a private guy. I wouldn’t take it personal,” Nico told Sheena, who just waved it off. Considering how they’d parted, that was downright pleasant.

“No worries. Now, what do you still need help with?”

She wasn’t surprised to find Kuchinawa on the roof of the inn that night. The same roof he’d been helping hang the lanterns from. She felt his attention pricking at her senses until she excused herself from her conversation. It was a moment’s work to hop up to the roof.

“Mind if I sit?”she asked.

He waved at her in permission.

“So, what brings you to Luin, Yamato?” She should have guessed with a name like that even if she hadn’t recognized him. The most famous story from the Azumi clan was about their ancestor slaying a monster who was an eight-headed snake by the name of Yamata.

“Wandering, mostly. I was in Palmacosta for a while, then in Asgard for a few months.”

Palmacosta was an easy place to disappear, especially in the early days of the reunification. So many refugees, so much confusion. It would have been simple for a man of Kuchinawa’s skill.

“Are...you—” Why was this so hard? But when Sheena remembered Kuchinawa, the memory that came to mind first was of his venomous rage, spitting her betrayal of the village in his face. Of the grudging respect from standing over him after the duel, of the cold emptiness in his voice when he asked how he could still deserve to live.

“I’ve been fine,” he said. He wasn’t even looking at her, eyes out on the festival and the fuzzy imprint of the mountains beyond.

“Does Orochi know that?”

Now he flicked his gaze to her, tension in his jaw. “I can’t answer that, Chief.”

“I’m not here as a Chief, I’m here as myself’ she snapped. “And your brother misses you.”

“You can tell him I’m fine now. Assuming you’re not going to drag me in as a traitor.”

“Drag you in for what? You’re an exile, remember? Not beholden to Mizuho’s laws. Wasn’t that the whole reason you left?”

“I left because you wanted to open the village to outsiders!” He caught himself, lowering his voice. “You’re bringing omamori to strangers?”
“They’re charms. It’s a tradition to be shared. Every culture has their own version of it.” Sheena had a red ribbon from Lloyd, to wear for the days when she felt like she needed more luck. Raine had an ancient coin she kept in her pocket. A folded palm leaf in the shape of a cross was dried out and lived on her dresser from Regal.

“You want to turn Mizuho into another government outpost of the Crown, or open our borders to anyone who asks. I’ve seen what that does and everything we are will disappear, Sheena. I can’t be a part of that.”

“I don’t want that for us, Kuchinawa. But I can’t let us stay secreted away without any connections to the outside world either. We’ll die that way. I am trying to do what’s best for Mizuho.”

“How’s that been working out for you?”

“You wouldn’t know because you left.” It came out more bitter than she wanted. The anger of his betrayal had mostly faded, leaving only the hurt and the ache of missing someone she couldn’t even be sure was alive.

“I was a traitor, Sheena. You wouldn’t let me die in my shame for the betrayal, so what did you expect me to do?”

“Stay!” She punched the roof tiles in frustration. They were still warm from the day’s sun. “You—I still hate you for doing what you did with the Pope, but….I guess I didn’t do much better from your eyes, did I?”

“They’re outsiders, Sheena. I don’t like how much influence they have over you, and therefore the village.”

“So why work with the Pope? Sounds like a really hypocritical idea to me.”

“Because Tiga wouldn’t even hear me out! Everyone who could do something wouldn’t listen and—we had a contract with the Renegades, Sheena. What was I supposed to do when you came back fighting together with your assassination target?”

“Trust me maybe?!”

His brow set in a familiar stubborn way. Orochi did the same thing. “I did. I saw you off when you got home with those outsiders. Maybe the deal had changed or something. But it didn’t get any better for any of us. And you brought those outsiders into Mizuho. There were Pope’s men in Gaoracchia. You had Orochi helping you to betray the Renegades—who did nothing but help us—and all I could see was it bringing Mizuho to even more harm.”

The old rage rose, ugly and writhing in her throat. She choked it down; she was Chief now, to a thriving village. She could say things calmly. “That’s not what you said that night you came for me.”

He looked away. “It—I—there were a lot of things I should not have said that night. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on it. I was angry and hurt, thinking about your betrayal.”

“It wasn’t like that, Kuchinawa. You have to believe me. I—I tried so hard to kill Colette. Several times. I almost died for it.” If it weren’t for Lloyd and Colette’s kindness, for Raine’s skill, she would have been one of the bodies buried here, in a completely different world, never to be visited by her family, never reunited with her ancestors. “I didn’t mean to betray anyone. It—there was a lot going on, and the things we thought we knew were changing so fast.”

“...I saw what you did on the Tethe’alla Bridge.”

It had been so long ago that it took Sheena a moment to remember what he was talking about. The drawbridge rising, the plunge into a cold ocean awaiting them, and Undine’s mana surging up to meet hers.

“I was happy you were alive, of course.” Such a matter-of-fact thing to say after trying to earnestly kill her twice. “But to know that you had the ability to do that? It was easier to accept when I thought you couldn’t Summon at all. That perhaps the Chief and Vice-Chief were just mistaken about your abilities.”

“It wasn’t a pretty sight when I made that first pact,” Sheena admitted. She didn’t think she’d told anyone back in Mizuho about it, other than the fact that it happened. “I wouldn’t have tried it at all. Lloyd and the others had to convince me. And I panicked at the altar anyway. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I think that...between my thinking you had betrayed us, and knowing about the Summons—it triggered a lot of resentment I didn’t realize I held.” He looked back up at her, and in a moment, he wasn’t the man who’d betrayed her, but the boy she’d grown up with. “I didn’t—I never consciously resented you for what happened, but—I’m not a very good person.”

She leaned forward, placing her hand over his, gripping it tight. “I loved your parents, Kuchinawa. I never wanted to hurt them.”

“I know that now.” He made a rueful noise, crossing his legs. There was a half-turn of his hand, almost like he wanted to grasp hers in his. Instead, he drew it away, back to his lap. “I knew that then too, but it was easier to fall back on the things people were saying about you.”

Sheena rubbed at her eye. She wasn’t crying yet, but they were burning a little like she wanted to. After she could kind of get her breathing under control, and they’d both sat in a good silence, she asked, “...So, Luin, huh?”

“I wasn’t lying earlier. I really was traveling all over. I’d been everywhere in Tethe’alla before, so—I decided to see Sylvarant.”

She drew her knees to her chest, resting her arms on them. “And? What’d you think?”

“...Not so different from Tethe’alla. But in some ways, they’re very different. Are they always so...big?”

Sheena snorted, knowing exactly what he meant. It wasn’t a size thing. It was in everything they did. Emotions, expressions, voices—it all felt bigger and louder in Sylvarant than in most anywhere back in Tethe’alla. She’d brought it up one night a few years back, comparing notes with the other Tethe’allans now that they’d had more experience with Sylvarant. They’d agreed. Tethe’allans, as a rule, tended to be more reserved. Zelos was an outlier in that way.

“Yeah, usually. Raine’s running theory is something about the feeling of omnipotence that the Church provides in Tethe’alla, where the Desians kinda provided more of that in Sylvarant, which led to two opposite outcomes ‘cause of the open threat of the Desians versus the face of what the Church was supposed to be.”

Kuchinawa mulled that over for a minute. “...They help each other more in Sylvarant. Within their own communities, at least.” He’d seen enough of how they ignored half-elves here. But even that had changed from what he’d seen as Palmacosta was rebuilt. “Palmacosta received aid from the other towns, and there are not many divides based on social status.”

“’s what comes out of not having a ruling class like the nobility. And a common enemy like the Desians. It’s...part of what I admire about them. How they come together. Even across cities and continents.” A breeze cut through, carrying a gentle chill with it. She tilted her head into it, letting the smell of roasting meats and smoke from below soothe her. “I want that for Mizuho. I want that to be something that we’re strong enough to do for others, and that others are able to do for us.”

They were both quiet for a long time. Sheena shifted her weight, but enjoyed the light touch of their shoulders. There was a time when she and the Azumi brothers had been closer than anything. Siblings in everything but blood. It had been almost six years since Kuchinawa left; it had been strange for she and Orochi to adapt around each other now as adults, working so closely together, but always missing part of a familiar dynamic.

They’d figured it out, as far as being Chief and Vice-Chief together. She wasn’t sure if Orochi had ever gotten used to the empty corners of his home in the new village.

“...This was the town that you saw destroyed.”

Sometimes, when she breathed in, she could still feel the mud, ash, and blood in her busted nose, the crumbling fountain at her back. Her lungs remembered gasping for breath under Raine’s cold-sharp mana as it reluctantly stitched her back together.

Sometimes, being back in Luin was overwhelming; her mind only saw the ruins, only heard the echoing calls for survivors coming closer to where she’d lain, left for dead. She saw new friends lying trampled beneath boots and gunned down where they stood.

Those were days she couldn’t stay. She had to leave and sit and try and hold the pieces of her memory and self back together before she could walk into the city who’d refused to stay down.

“Yes.”

Kuchinawa’s eyes studied her, dark and calculating. “Everywhere I’ve been, they talk about this city. They speak about it like a legend, rising from the ashes the Desians turned it into. A beacon of hope for all of Sylvarant.”

“That’s a nice way to think about it. The reality was much worse.” Sheena drew her knees closer. “...They surprised me too. We got the Desians that did it; freed the prisoners, destroyed the ranch, made sure it burnt to the ground. I expected everyone to just...go their own ways, y’know? Go make new lives where they could and try to forget it ever happened.

“But instead, we were passing by and...Pietro was here. Couldn’t talk real well yet, but he was shoring up with other survivors to start repairing and rebuilding. He’s the heart of this place. Everyone else just kinda...came in gradually.”

“They’re weird.”

Sheena snorted; when he said it like that, all it sounded like was when they were eight and staying up well past their bedtime and they got a pillow launched at them with impressive force from Orochi because he was trying to sleep dammit. “Which ones?”

“All of them. I haven’t dealt much with Pietro, but Nico and Teresa are…a lot.”

That phrase wouldn’t mean much to anyone else. Sheena smiled a little, rolling Corrine’s bell in her fingers. She pretended not to notice how Kuchinawa flinched at the familiar sound. “Teresa’s dad ran the inn before her. He...welcomed me in, almost no questions asked. Which was a crazy decision in those days—I remember he got some flack for it—and he…” Her voice choked in her throat, eyes burning at the memory of Angelo, big shouldered and stern-faced with the sweetest demeanor she’d seen outside of maybe Colette. “He made his nonna’s gnocchi soup and a coffee cake for my birthday.”

Sheena’s first birthday away from home had been when she was twelve, alone at the inn in Meltokio. Her nineteenth birthday had been in an entirely different world, frustrated at trying to find the Chosen, alone and horribly homesick.

She’d shared that coffee cake with Angelo’s family and Corrine, fervently grateful for their company.

“...He sounds like a good man.”

“He was.” And she’d seen him try and hold off the Desians when they came. She hadn’t been fast enough to get to him, hadn’t been able to protect him from their guns. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet in all your traveling—the outsiders aren’t all bad.”

“I never thought they were all bad.” He didn’t even have to look at Sheena to know her expression. “I didn’t! I just don’t want their ways infecting ours. If they come in, they’ll warp us until there’s nothing left of Mizuho.” He turned, his chin jutted out in determination. “They did it to Ozette, and they did it to Altamira. I can’t watch them do it to us.”

“I don’t want Mizuho to lose what we are. But I’m also not just gonna let us shrivel and die in our isolation. That was never an option for me.”

A joyous roar came up from down below, the music swelling.

“You stayin’ up here for the fireworks?” Sheena asked, spotting the people getting them set up. Tethe’alla had fireworks for very special occasions. Altamira had them more often, but that’s because it was an old trade from Mizuho that had allowed those gunpowder recipes.

Sylvarant hadn’t had those recipes in a long time. Sheena had been happy to share them, and it had been deeply entertaining to teach and watch them light them themselves. And mildly flammable, but that was why Genis had been on hand with water spells at the ready.

“Yeah.”

Sheena stood, her knees creaking a little in the cold, and dusted the seat of her pants off. “...happy harvest, Kuchinawa. Sorry—Yamato.” She looked down at him, trying to memorize him in case he disappeared into the world again. “Safe travels.”

“Happy harvest...”

Orochi made breakfast for the two of them. He used her kitchen, but he came in with a basket of ingredients since she’d been gone for almost two weeks now and her groceries had been limited. She could hear him as she dressed for the day in the other room, relishing in the familiar sounds of his humming and the gentle crackle of oil on the pan.

“...your brother misses you.”

“You can tell him I’m fine now. Assuming you’re not going to drag me in as a traitor.”

When she got to the table, there were bowls of steaming soup and rice with a fried egg on each. Pickled radishes and carrots, broccoli drizzled in oil and grilled mackerel. After bringing the tea set, Orochi sat beside her, murmuring a good morning. He’d announced himself when he came in—unnecessary. Her wards had whispered in recognition along her skin the moment he crossed the threshold—but he was unfailingly polite.

He tugged his mask down, already putting a few portions of fish and vegetables on her plate. Fussy as ever.

Sheena ate her breakfast quietly, studying one of her oldest friends. Her brother, she supposed, though they’d never used words like that. They’d never had to; he showed it with the baring of his face, traditionally only to be shown to his spouse and immediate family. And she certainly wasn’t a spouse.

She struggled sometimes, to remember his face growing up. She could do it in finding the differences in his face now, in the negative space where his cheeks had been baby fat and his jaw hadn’t sharpened. His brow had not been so heavy and he hadn’t gotten the scar across his eyebrow. Before Volt, he hadn’t yet come of age. He hadn’t needed the mask yet. But when she’d seen him again, the mask was on. And hadn’t come off in front of her until over a year into her being Chief.

That he trusted her like this again...if she thought about it too long, her chest went fragile with it, bones malleable and soft as wet clay.

She compared the publicly visible half of his face to what she’d seen of Kuchinawa. The shape of their eyes were the same, but Kuchinawa’s eyes were a much lighter brown, closer to hazel. His brow was tighter, and the angle of their noses wasn’t the same. Sheena wished she could properly remember their parents’ faces to compare properly, but they were just achingly familiar blurs in her memory. She remembered their mother a little more; she and Grandpa had been the ones to find her in Gaoracchia. She’d been the poison master of the village, clever and so patient with three children, especially since one of them wasn’t even hers.

Both parents had been patient, but Orochi had his father’s brand, peaceful and still as a lake. Kuchinawa was more like their mother, the patience of a predator lounging, but always with a subtle threat implied.

“...I want to talk to you about something,” Sheena said, holding the bowl of soup in her hands to let its warmth soak into her.

“I thought you might.” One corner of Orochi’s lip curled into a smile. “You’ve been suspiciously quiet today.”

She flicked radishes into his bowl. “I want to make it clear first though—I’m not having this conversation as your Chief.”

His gaze sharpened a little. The deliberate delineation was something they rarely had to do; they were best friends, Chief and Vice-Chief, ambassador and spymaster. Their lives and goals were quite entwined at this point. “Alright.”

“...Kuchinawa is alive. He’s doing fine, from what I can tell.” The thing about Orochi being so used to wearing a mask was that his expressions were always on the surface, easy to read for whoever he chose to display himself to. There was relief in the relaxation of his brow and jaw, and not an ounce of shock anywhere to be found. “You knew.”

“I did. Well, I guessed.” He worried at a gap in his teeth with his tongue. “...How much do you want to hear about it?”

Another careful line. If she were speaking as Chief to her Vice-Chief and spymaster, there would be an issue with his associating with a known exile and traitor. This knowledge could not be anything used in their village dealings.

“Just tell me.”

“We have several dropspots as part of our Information Network. Most are perfectly accessible to the entire network. There were some that only our family used.” Orochi looked into his half-empty tea. “It was almost a year into his exile that I thought to check them, in case he’d left anything...before.

“There was a message from a few months after his exile. Just...letting me know he was okay. That he would be traveling. Nothing specific.”

“Was that the only time?”

“No. It didn’t follow any kind of pattern. Only the most occasional messages. I could figure out where he was if I chose to look in further.” But he hadn’t. That would have been a step too far in his duty. “He left me a birthday note two years ago. That was the last I heard from him.”

“Did you ever reach out to him?”

“I left a note every new year.” Orochi licked his lips before asking, “...He looked well, you said?”

Exhaling slowly, Sheena nodded. “Yeah. Found him completely by accident. He’s been staying at the inn in Luin, apparently. Nico introduced us. He’s going by Yamato.”

Orochi mouthed the name before snorting softly. “You think he’d know better than to pick something so obvious.”

“I kinda thought the same thing. But then, I guess it’s only obvious to any of us.” A signal, almost, to anyone from Mizuho he might come across. A bid for connection in a world that he chose to cut himself off from, that he thought there was nothing left for him in. Sheena wished she couldn’t understand the feeling. “We talked for a while.”

He ran a very deliberate eye over her. “And it didn’t come to blows? Or has he been neglecting his training so much that you whupped him?”

The laughter was a welcome break in a tension Sheena hadn’t realized was there. He sounded like Tiga when they’d been dragged before him with bristling childish arguments. “We didn’t fight! Not physically anyway. We’re adults.”

The rude sound that came from Orochi made it very clear what he thought about that.

“Seriously, we just—talked. It was kinda nice.” Thinking about how some of that conversation had gone… “Kinda. It—I miss him, Orochi. And I know you do too.”

His grip went white on his teacup. “Of course I do. But—Kuchinawa made his choices. I have a duty to you and to this village. I will not abandon it.”

“Never crossed my mind that you would.” Orochi was one of the most loyal people Sheena knew. And she was friends with Lloyd. “But what if...if we had like—a path to rehabilitation into the village?”

“You’re sounding like a Chief again,” he warned softly.

“I did the same thing that Kuchinawa did. I ignored orders, worked with outsiders. It was pure luck that I happened to be on the winning side.”

She had nightmares still, of what it looked like when they hadn’t. If she hadn’t been saved from being the darkness with the remnants of that Tree. Of lying at the bottom, body broken and no one to hear her until her strength faded. Of Colette’s voice morphing into Martel’s, of her beloved face going back to cold and soulless, eyes red. Lloyd wandering in Derris-Kharlan and Welgaia, calling for them until his voice went hoarse, never finding them and wandering the empty city alone. Her body falling into the black hole, an illusory Kuchinawa staring down from the edge as she fell and was wrapped in a spider’s web, never to be seen again.

Those nightmares came less and less often these days. But even five years later, there would be nights that she woke, shivering and cold, turning on the lamps and lanterns, reaching for Corrine’s bell if she wasn’t near any of the others.

“He didn’t stay for punishment. He left.”

“Maybe so. But—do you think he wants to come back?”

Orochi looked away, jaw tight. “How should I know what he wants anymore?”

Oh. She’d been so concerned about the logistics of it that she hadn’t even considered Orochi’s feelings about the whole thing. He’d been left behind by his only family. It had been five years of sitting vigil at his parents’ grave alone every New Year; five harvests where Orochi had automatically taken a share of eggplants because they were Kuchinawa’s favorite, only to leave them in Sheena’s kitchen because Orochi didn’t like them.

Orochi was a forgiving man. He’d forgiven her after all. But Kuchinawa was even more personal. Maybe this was his line.

“...Would you want him to come back?” she asked quietly.

“He’s had his chances.”

“Maybe he didn’t feel like he did. We—I—was too angry to even consider it five years ago.” Sheena had never told him about how Kuchinawa had turned the dagger on himself after their duel, how it had only been because of her intervention that he wasn’t another ghost to talk to at the family altar. She’d never been sure how to tell him. Orochi had looked so empty when she and Lloyd returned to the village, when he realized Kuchinawa wasn’t with them. “And Kuchinawa’s not stupid. He’s gotta know how I felt about it. And he probably could guess how you did too. But I’ve changed since then. I’m willing to forgive him. But Sheena’s not the one making this decision. The Chief is. And I won’t do it if you’re not with me on it.”

“You just want to let him walk back like nothing ever happened?”

“...No. I don’t think that would work. It—it’s a risk we don’t need to take. But—maybe kind of a gradual way back?”

He took a slow sip of his tea. “What are you thinking?”

“We have to build up trust on both ends of this. I hurt him just as much as he hurt us. So—maybe reintroducing him as an informant maybe? He’s already out there traveling, living his life. That could start a communication with him?”

“And if he gave us false information?”

“I’m not saying don’t verify anything. You’re not that stupid. But if he does knowingly give us false information, then we cut him off. That would be a choice he makes, and also doesn’t expose the village.”

“...We can’t allow him back. Not into the village.” The words were dragged from him, but his brow was set in determination.

“Not yet,” she agreed. “It’ll be something to talk about again in the future, if he wants this, but for now—no.”

He was quiet for a long moment, before yanking his mask back up. “Alright.”

“Orochi?”

“I have work to do with our agents in Sybak and Flanoir,” he said, crossing to the front room to put his shoes back on. “I’ll be back by Thursday.”

“O-okay. Travel safe.”

The note had been in Orochi’s handwriting, to meet him at the Isle of Decision today. He’d returned several days ago, seeming largely normal if not a bit quieter, but today missed their usual shared breakfast, and when she’d gone to his house to check if they wanted to go together, his house stood empty. Her fingers hadn’t stopped playing with Corrine’s bell the entire way over, her leg wanting to bounce just to get rid of the anxiety crawling beneath her skin.

Sheena followed the river up, higher into the mountains. The old village was down there, tucked away near Gaoracchia. They’d played in this river as children, at the base of its waterfall where it pooled deep and they’d had competitions launching themselves from a rope they tied to a tree, and how long they could hold their breaths.

Banking lower until one of the Rheaird’s wings drew across the surface of the river—wide and energetic at this point—she spotted Orochi’s blue on the little island in the fork of the river.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” She hadn’t been back to the Isle since her duel with Kuchinawa.

“...I need a favor from you.”

“You’re acting weird, Orochi. What—”

A little boat came down the river, the person on it plain-looking and unremarkable except for the cowl and the fact that Sheena had last seen him in Luin.

Kuchinawa hopped down from the boat, dragging it up the shore so it wouldn’t be taken by the current. “You didn’t say she’d be here.”

Old instinct had her wanting to snap right back at him, but today was odd enough that Sheena kept her silence, just slanting a look at Orochi who’d orchestrated whatever this was.

“I brought her as a witness.”

What​?

Kuchinawa stilled, eyes shuttered and guarded. “You want to duel me?”

“I’m giving you a chance, Kuchinawa. If you want the chance to return to Mizuho, you’ll have to fight me for it.” Orochi’s eyes and voice were unnaturally cold. “You can always walk away.”

“Did your Chief agree to this? It doesn’t look like she did.”

“I’m not here as the Chief; I’m just a witness.” Dammit, Orochi. Why would he put her in this kind of position? “It’s your decision. He has his terms.”

“And if I choose to walk away?”

“Then this is goodbye, little brother.” Sheena didn’t think she imagined the hitch in Orochi’s voice. He didn’t really sound different between himself and being Vice-Chief, not Sheena’s ear, but it sounded different now. Projecting his voice out—not yelling—and it came from deeper in his chest. “You go back to whatever life you have. But you will never return to Mizuho.”

Something cracked in Kuchinawa’s eyes. He drew his knife from his belt. “I don’t have a choice then, do I?”

Orochi mirrored him. “You always do.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Sheena called out for the duel to begin.

The thing about Orochi because he was so reserved was that it was easy to forget that he was as well trained, if not more so, than his brother. He met him blow for blow, weaving and landing quick precise shots.

It might have stayed that way if Kuchinawa hadn’t opened his mouth. “Holding back, huh? I guess you must really want me back for this farce of a fight.”

“You left!” Orochi swept his brother’s legs out from under him, slamming him into the ground. Kuchinawa kicked wildly, trying to keep him off him, but Orochi wrangled hold of a leg and shoved him back down.

“The fuck else was I going—” A fist cracked across his face, but not before he swung an arm around his brother’s neck, throwing his weight off.

“You didn’t even try to stay. You were too much of a coward to even face me after your duel.” Orochi grabbed his collar, yanking him closer.
“So you could disown me in person?” He sliced upwards with his knife, forcing Orochi to loosen his grip and back up.

“You swore! In front of our ancestors, you swore to stay by my side. To be my right hand man. And you just—left. Not a word or anything.” He ducked under another strike, jamming one hand into his brother’s bicep, the other going for the neck.

“You were in Tiga’s pocket,” Kuchinawa spat, curling his other hand in Orochi’s clothes to bring him down with him. “You were with her. You weren’t going to listen to me.”

“That was my Chief,” Orochi said, voice breaking. He didn’t let his weight off Kuchinawa this time. “And my future Chief. I couldn’t go against them. But why didn’t you say something to me​? You—you didn’t trust me?”

“I knew your answer was going to be the same thing you just said to me,” Kuchinawa said quietly. “You’re loyal to them first, not your family.”

“And you think you get to make that decision? To go—martyr yourself in a duel? You think I wanted that?”

“No. But you wouldn’t have stopped me either.”

Another fist across his face. “The hell I wouldn’t have. You’re my brother. I—I never want to see you dead. I thought we wanted the same things—to serve Mizuho well, to watch it prosper.”

Kuchinawa snorted out a bubble of blood. “You’re right—we did. We just don’t agree on how that happens.”

“You think you know me so well?!”

“You’re damn right I do!” Kuchinawa drove himself up and forward, a smaller hidden knife in hand. Orochi caught his wrist, but his balance was off. Kuchinawa bucked him up off of him, rolling to his feet while his brother lay in a sprawl below them. “I watched you play friendly with those outsiders, watched you turn your back on the Renegades—our allies—just because she came and told you an insane tale.”

“I have a duty to the village.” He flinched when a kick slammed into his ribs. Gasping, he continued, “You did too, which you so conveniently forgot.”

“I knew my duty. To protect the damn village. That’s what we swore on Mom and Dad’s graves. And you followed their killer to go fight an impossible fight that should’ve killed us all.”

“And what was the alternative? Work with the Pope? Because he’d been so benevolent to us?” Orochi grabbed Kuchinawa’s leg, slamming his elbow into the knee and throwing his weight into it to drive him back to the ground. “He was the reason we got so desperate that we had to go for Volt in the first place. So you left us—your family—to join them. You sold us out because you were afraid!”

“Yeah, I was!” Kuchinawa coughed hard, drawing the injured knee closer. “I thought I was the only sane person left in that entire fucking village. I thought she was going to lead us to ruin. We barely survived the first time. I couldn’t just stand by and watch it happen again.”

“And what makes you think you deserve to come back after all that?”

He stared up at his older brother; one eye wouldn’t open all the way, but the other was wide and bloodshot. His laugh was a shaky, high-pitched thing. “I don’t deserve it, you idiot. That’s why I’m wondering why the hell you’re here. Why any of this is happening. I know what the hell I did and I wouldn’t forgive me for doing it. So I did what I thought should happen.”

“You could’ve walked away then. If you really believed that,” Orochi said, breathing hard. “Why didn’t you walk away?”

“You think I’m such a coward?”

“That’s not an answer.” Orochi leaned in. “Why?”

“Because I missed you, okay?!” Kuchiawa wrenched his head away, unable to stay looking at his brother. “You’re the only family I have left, so yeah—I—I miss you.”

Sheena found her voice, calling for the end of the duel as she surged to her feet. “Back up, Orochi.”

Orochi swayed to his feet, hesitating before stepping away. Sheena crouched to get a better look at Kuchinawa. A cut on his brow over the swollen eye was dripping blood into his cowl. He was moving gingerly, but he was bending his knee. No limbs were broken. Maybe some ribs.

“Here,” she said, handing him an ice talisman. “He got your eye good. Can you breathe okay?”

His nose was kind of swollen too, from what she could see, but he managed some decent breaths. Cracked ribs maybe, and he’d be feeling that knee for a while/ Still, he wouldn’t let her any closer, so she left him with an extra ice talisman and went to Orochi.

He was kneeling by the creek, mask down and spitting blood into the dirt. “Let me see,” Sheena said softly, stepping more deliberately to make herself heard.

Orochi didn’t fight her, but he did wince away as she touched a swollen cheek. His eyes were tracking okay, but they were a bit bloodshot. Kuchinawa had given as good as he’d gotten. Orochi’s knuckles were bruised and bloodied, the skin cracked in the dry autumn air.

She took his hands gently, and he flexed and bent his fingers on command, wincing when he did. “Not broken,” he reported, voice hoarse. His eyes were red too, but his pupils weren’t dilated, and he wasn’t having any trouble focusing on her, so she didn’t say anything about it.

Sheena felt it when her ice talisman activated somewhere behind them, a shiver running across her shoulders as her own temperature dropped a bit in response. Kuchinawa stepped closer, one hand pressing the talisman to his eye.

“Orochi—”

His brother looked away, pulling the mask back up over his face. Ice dropped in Sheena’s stomach, and she glanced back to look at Kuchinawa. His one visible eye was wide, and his free hand that had been outstretched was curling back into himself.

Damage control time. Sheena pushed herself to her feet, offering Orochi a stabilizing arm for him. He leaned heavily on her to stand.

“Head back to the village,” she told him. “Get someone to take a look at you.”

“...Yes, Chief.”

She looked back at Kuchinawa as Orochi made his way into the forest. “You’re coming with me.”

He lifted his chin, defiant. “You’re not my Chief anymore. I don’t have to follow orders.”

“I’m not acting as your Chief. I’m acting as someone who’s gonna get you some medical help whether you like it or not. So. You can come on your own two feet, or over my shoulder. Take your pick.” She stood square against him, spine straight. She was not the girl he had grown up with. She had defeated him once already, when he was fully healthy.

He followed her on his own two feet. He hesitated only a moment before mounting the Rheaird behind her, wrapping his arms tight around her waist.

She flew them to Sybak. Kuchinawa’s arms tensed around her when he realized where they were. Sheena ignored him, walking into the inn. It had been rebuilt, recently, taken out by a hurricane a few years ago. Still, she recognized the face behind the counter.

“How’s it going, Emma?” Emma had been a Renegade spy for years. These days, she really was only an innkeeper, but she’d worked with Mizuho long enough.

“Chief! Good to see you.” She didn’t seem to recognize Kuchinawa behind her. “One room or two?”

“Just the one’s fine. My friend Yamato needs a place to stay for the night. Put it on my tab.”

“Always a room available for you, Chief.” Emma smiled sweetly as she handed over the key. “Room six.”

“’preciate you, Emma.”

Kuchinawa waited until they were both in the room to say, “What are you doing?”

“I thought I told you—making sure you get medical help. Now, you want a doctor or do you me doing it?”

“‘Neither’ isn’t an option, I suppose?”

“Not right now it isn’t.” Sheena softened a little. “I didn’t know Orochi was planning to do this. He didn’t tell me.”

“And here I thought you two were bosom friends.” Kuchinawa limped to sit gingerly on the end of the bed, struggling to get out of his shirt. “Or did I miss the wedding too?”

Sheena helped his arm through, noting the odd swelling of his elbow. “Don’t be gross just because you’re jealous. You chose to leave, remember?”

“It’s what my punishment would’ve been anyway. Just getting ahead of the curve.”

“You really think Tiga would’ve done that to you?” Sheena filled a bucket with water from the bathroom.

“After what I’d done? Of course. We can’t all be the favorite.”

“You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?” Sheena put a warming talisman on the bucket before dipping a rag in there. “Your ribs broken?”

“Nah. Gonna be feeling it for a week though.”

“Yeah, you really pissed him off.” And it was hard to get Orochi to that level. His anger and displeasure were usually seen in the cold of his tone or the formality of his actions. He wasn’t the type to lash out.

She squinted at his knee and slapped another ice talisman on it, ignoring Kuchinawa’s yelp of protest. Taking his hands in hers, she washed the dried blood from his busted knuckles, and wiped blood from his chest that had dripped from his face.

“...Do you even want to come back?” Sheena kept her eyes on his skin, trying not to scrub too hard on the stubborn spots.

“...What?”

“If you had the opportunity, would you want to come back to the village? Or did you just want to be able to communicate with Orochi again?”

His eyes went wide, unbelieving. “That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“I knowingly betrayed us, Sheena. You’re not this stupid—I can’t go back to what I was. I betrayed us and led an attack on our own citizen.”

“A citizen you thought had betrayed us too. Who did betray us.” Sheena sat back on her heels, taking a deep breath. “It’s not easy to think about forgiving you, y’know. It—what you did hurt. And I was angry for a long time. Sometimes, it still makes me mad when I think about it.”

“And you want me back? That’s the precedent you want to set as Chief? People can betray and be exiled from the village and just waltz back in?!”

“Who said anything about waltzing? The precedent I want to set as Chief is that if people are willing to change...that they should be given the space to. People make mistakes. I know I have. But I’ve been really lucky, and had people that supported me and taught me ways to be better. I want to do that for other people too. It won’t be just coming back with no questions asked or anything. There’s—steps. Ways to prove yourself to me and to the village that we should trust you again.

“You asked if I approved the duel’s terms earlier—I would’ve preferred to handle it without you two beating the snot out of each other, but—yes. I do. So...if you really don’t want to return to Mizuho, I won’t make you. It’s gotta be your decision. But,” Sheena pushed herself to her feet. “We’ll work with you if you decide you do.”

She was almost at the door when Kuchinawa blurted, “He hates me. You both do.”

“I don’t hate you, Kuchinawa. Maybe I did back then, but not anymore. And I won’t speak for Orochi, but...I think he’s just angry and hurt too. I wasn’t the only person you betrayed that night.” She turned, leaning back against the doorframe. “I brought the idea of this path back into the village to him. He told me he would think about it.

“That was almost a week ago. Now—this is the first I’ve seen or heard from him about it. But I think you proved it in the duel that you do want to come back. I think if you didn’t care, you would’ve just walked away. Maybe that was enough for him, I don’t know. I’m going to go check on him once I leave here. Regardless of your choice, I won’t—he’ll be allowed to speak with you. Not about everything, obviously, but I won’t cut you off from your family.” Just his village, everything he had ever known before five years ago. “So just...think about it. If you wanna come back, wait for me here. I’ll come back sometime tomorrow. Otherwise...I hope you have a nice life, Yamato.”

Orochi was waiting for her in his house. He sat in his living room, only in his underwear, with a basket of medical supplies beside him. The bruises were coming in now, vivid purples and pinks. He’d clearly cleaned and bandaged what he could, none of the cuts looking particularly serious.

“So when I said get someone to take a look at you…”

“You failed to put a time limit on it.”

Sheena hummed, pulling the supplies closer and lighting a talisman to see better. She wouldn’t call him on the technicality; he’d had a vulnerable enough day already. Having other people—especially from Mizuho—near him would’ve been horrifying. “Did he actually manage to break something?” Adrenaline had kept people moving through worse.

“Maybe? Feels more cracked than anything. Didn’t puncture anything.”

His ribs did look nasty, the bruises sharp and red. “Small miracles, I guess. Want ‘em wrapped?”

“For tonight at least.”

Sheena was careful in wrapping the bandages around him, asking him to take a deep breath with every time the roll came back around. After she tied it off, she slipped an ice talisman in between the layers to help with the swelling.

“Still got all your teeth?”

“Somehow.” He kept his gaze on his fingers as they traced the opposite hand’s swollen knuckles. “...How is he?”

“’bout as beat up as you. Orochi...what were you trying to prove with this duel?”

“Who’s asking?”

“It—I don’t know if I can separate me from the Chief right now. Is your answer different for each one?”

“...The reasoning might be.” He tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. “...I’m still so angry with him, Sheena. I—I thought it was pretty much gone. When you asked me if I wanted him back, I almost said yes automatically. But—then I was thinking about it. And I kept finding reasons to be upset. When I saw him today, I wasn’t sure if I was going to punch him or hug him.”

“That’s a common reaction to Kuchinawa,” she said dryly. He snorted, regretting it immediately, his face still sore. “Seriously though, I get that. I’m like that with Zelos. Even now, sometimes.”

“...You said you forgave him.”

“I did. And you know how long I took to make that decision. And—we’re mostly good, now. But sometimes he’ll say something or do something—sometimes, it’s not even him. It’ll just be a bad day for me, with nightmares, or with things coming up with my work—and my first reaction will be anger. There’s days that a part of me wants nothing more than to beat him to a pulp for what he did.” Sheena fell quiet, clasping and unclasping her hands. Night fell swiftly at this time of year. The sun had still been setting when she’d arrived; now it was properly dark. She stood to light some lamps, eyes falling on the family altar sitting in an alcove.

His parents’ portrait was there, his father’s face covered, but his eyes smiling, while his mother wore her red wedding robes. Behind them were the wooden tablets with the names of his ancestors painted and engraved on them. Had he made one for Kuchinawa, to honor him as dead just like the rest of their family? Or would Kuchinawa never make it to this altar, forever exiled even from his own family’s memory?

The only altar she had was with Grandpa’s family. She honored them every year, of course, but—Grandpa was all she knew of them. And his health was declining. He’d been in his fifties when she was adopted. Nearly thirty years later now, and sometimes she couldn’t reconcile his brittle hands and faltering memory to the man who’d raised her.

“I—I think I know what it’s like to have a brother.” They’d never said it aloud, and Sheena had experienced what came of people keeping things to themselves. She was getting kind of tired of it. “I—I’ve always thought of you two that way. And I know it’s different for you two, but—haven’t we lost enough?”

He made a punched out sound. “Sheena—”

She turned to smile at him, her throat thick and eyes prickling. “Dying’s the only thing we can’t come back from.” Grandpa’s body, unmoving save for the barest movements of his chest. Colette’s empty red eyes. Zelos, broken and barely breathing in the Tower. Kuchinawa raising the knife to himself. “I want the people I love to have the chance to come back. I decided my anger’s not worth that.”

“...I hurt him.”

“Yeah. And he hurt you too.” Sheena dug a blanket out of a chest, draping it over Orochi who still hadn’t gotten dressed again. “I can’t decide for you if you wanna leave it like that. But I’m planning on going back tomorrow with an offer for Kuchinawa if he wants it. We have plenty of flexible ways to use his expertise and start trusting him again.”

“Even if I said no?”

Sheena crouched in front of him. She kept her tone gentle, but that didn’t make it any less firm. “My choice as Chief is to extend the offer for him to start rejoining the village in small ways while we work up to bigger ones. I would like your agreement with that decision, but I don’t need it. Whether you decide to let him back into your personal life—that’s up to you. I told him that, even if he doesn’t wish to come back, I won’t close that line of communication to him. You deserve to be able to talk to your brother.”

“Heh. Yes, Chief.” His lips crooked, fond and sad. “When did you get so wise?”

“Well, usually it’s your job.” Sheena’s knees cracked as she stood. “But since you decided to do some impulsive stuff today, it was my turn.”

“...Thank you.” He stood gingerly, bracing on her shoulder as he found his footing. “I owe you an apology for how I handled today. It—I should have spoken to you beforehand.”

“You should’ve,” she agreed, steering him towards his bedroom. “But clearly I’m in a forgiving mood, so it’s fine.”

She helped him unfold his futon and into bed, making sure to leave a lamp and a glass of water close by. She gently squeezed his shoulder good night before letting herself out.

“Don’t leave without me tomorrow,” Orochi called.

“Yeah, yeah. Get some sleep!”

It wasn’t Emma at the desk the next morning. Sheena didn’t recognize the beanpole of a kid, awkward and sweet in his greeting. She half-expected for no response when she knocked on the door to room six, but Kuchinawa stood in the doorway.

The relief at seeing him almost knocked the wind out of her. She felt Orochi relax too. “Can we come in?”

He moved aside to let them in. Sheena stepped past, but Orochi wrapped an arm around Kuchinawa’s shoulders, hugging him tight.

“Ow,” Kuchinawa groaned, standing stiff. But he wasn’t pulling away, and neither was Orochi.

“It’s good to see you,” Orochi said, pressing his forehead to his.

“You’re getting all mushy in your old age.”

She snorted as Kuchinawa squirmed under the attention; it reminded her of Genis sometimes with Raine when she got particularly maternal. Orochi’s eyes curved in a smile—“Deal with it.”—before pulling back.

“So what now?” Kuchinawa looked at Sheena, still stiff like he expected to get hit.

“...I have a question for you first. After we dueled, you said you hoped to find a way to think like Lloyd and I do, about how to find meaning. You’ve been traveling both worlds for five years, and you’re still here. So did you find an answer?”

He looked away. “...No. Not for myself.”

“You always were a slow learner.” She grinned a little, letting the joke soften the reality of what his choice to come back would mean.

“Hey!”

“So I’m giving you an opportunity to keep trying to figure it out. Your fighting skills clearly are still in good shape, and your spywork was excellent.” Even Orochi hadn’t known about his deal with the Pope back then. “But your people skills need some work.”

“What?”

“You’re good at talking to people when you need stuff. Or when they need something. You’ve never been good at being social.” Sadly, Orochi had always been the best of them at it. Sheena had been a shy kid, and Kuchinawa had always been blunt as an anvil. Sheena had learned quickly, being in Meltokio, but Kuchinawa being raised as a spy meant he’d largely not spoken to people unless he needed to.

“The chance we’re extending you is as an informant to the Information Network. But it’s not just secrets and espionage anymore.”

“So...what exactly do you need from me?”

Sheena smiled. “I think you’d make a fine cultural ambassador.”

Both Azumi brothers stared at her like she’d grown a third head. “What​?”

“You care a lot about Mizuho, and you’re right—there is a chance of outsider influence corrupting or twisting our customs too far. I don’t want that to happen. But at the same time, we will not completely isolate ourselves. That’s inviting disaster. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. You’re already out there, building relationships across Sylvarant. We have trade agreements in place already, but that’s on a bigger scale. I want you to look for small ways that we can share who we are, and things that other places are doing that we can adapt for what we might need.”

“You’re already the ambassador,” Kuchinawa said slowly.

“I am. But like I said—I work big scale. With entire cities, or provinces. I try to be on the ground and involved, but I have a lot going on. Mizuho needs someone who’s comfortable being among outsiders, and who won’t lose who we are by assimilation. You’re not going to be out here negotiating treaties and things.”

“And you get intel on community level things while you’re at it. Clever.”

“That’s what we would be needing from you. Further details would go through Orochi as spymaster and however you guys end up organizing that. Here’s the part you’re not going to like—you’re not allowed back in the village.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not yet. Not the new one. You were willing to work with an active opposing agency with the Pope. I understand why you did it, and I honestly don’t think you’d do it again outside of some extreme circumstances, but the point remains that until we—and the village—can fully trust you again, you won’t be allowed to set foot in Mizuho.”

His jaw worked, fists clenching. Sheena braced for his temper, for pushing back, but nothing. He swallowed it down, taking a deep breath and looking to the ceiling. “Anything else?”

“I want to meet with you at least once a month to see how your ambassadorship is going. Orochi can have his own schedule with check-ins as far as your work with him, but I want direct communication for things regarding public relations.” Sheena set her shoulders back, tilting her chin up a little. Confident, but not a dare, not a threat. “Does that sound like something you’re willing to do?”

“If I do all that—I get to come back to the village?”

“Eventually.” Her tone gentled a little, remembering the panic and dread upon returning to Tethe’alla the first time, thinking that she would be cast out, never to see any of them again. “I want you back home, Kuchinawa, but I can’t be showing favoritism or setting bad precedents.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He snorted a little. “Who knew you’d actually be getting pretty good at being in charge?”

“You know me, I love proving people wrong. So?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.” He looked to Orochi. “Assuming you’ll have me. She seems to be doing all the talking.”

“She’s my Chief,” he said simply. “And yours now too. She’s earned my loyalty.” And you broke it. Orochi was too kind to say it aloud, but they hit Kuchinawa anyway.
He squared his shoulders, standing up straight before holding his arms out wide in the most formal of bows, dipping low enough so that his head neared his knees. “I am honored for the opportunity to be in your service, Chief Fujibayashi.”

The formality made something inside her squirm, but she held let herself return the bow, not dipping nearly as low as befitting their stations. “Do well in service of Mizuho.” She grinned a little to herself. “But I don’t think I have to tell you that.”

Orochi huffed a little behind her, barely a sound, but she heard it. At least he got some amusement out of this. He stepped forward as they both straightened from their bows, holding something in his hand.

“A gift, for this new change.”

Kuchinawa stared at the little white pouch. There was a snake, outlined in gold thread, with gold coins and rice bales behind it. He’d used to carry it all the time, renewing its blessings every new year. It was the last omamori his parents had ever given him; he’d left it in his room the night before the duel. He’d known, one way or the other, he wasn’t going to be coming back.

“I think it’s kind of appropriate, wouldn’t you say, Yamato?” Orochi said mildly. “I don’t know if you would know this, but the snakes of my family crest are symbols of good transformations, and the ability to always change who you are.”

A laugh choked in his throat. He met his brother’s eyes. “And you just carry this around with you?”

Orochi shook his head. “No. I kept it safe at home, waiting for the day I might find someone who deserved it.”

“And you think I’m that man?”

He stepped in, pressing his masked lips to Kuchinawa’s forehead. “You’re my brother, so yeah. I think you could be.”

Convinced that it wasn’t about to come to blows, again, Sheena stepped out to give them their privacy. There was a particular aching warmth, deep in her core, that sounded like a silver bell and felt like when Corrine would curl close to sleep; it meant she wanted to go sit with Grandpa for a while, share a meal and maybe go for a walk around the village. She had to tell Grandpa and Tiga the big news after all.