Work Text:
What’s that saying again? ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’? Haah…
Well, to this master of blades, a pen is a foreign object that doesn’t belong betwixt his fingers. Wings above, he’d even take a typical calligraphy brush over this… contraption- small, and deceptively hard to handle as it is. This is his second pen as well, having broken the first with excessive clicking. The resulting mess had coated his gloves, and Lady Moses graciously blessed him with another pen to allow him to rectify his mistakes.
The true graciousness would be getting rid of the paperwork on his desk entirely, but, when you’re employed under any company in the City- that other saying comes to mind.
‘Beggars can’t be choosers’.
Kim stares down at the paper. The paper stares back at him, covered in incomprehensible jargon relating to funds and observations and what not.
Aren’t they a field team? What does this have to do with him? Why, it’d be so easy to just flip the page over, face down, push away from the desk and just sneak out into the dead of night… maybe find a local pocha, that sounds nice…
“Mentor. Stare any harder at that window, and I will have the sneaking suspicion you are planning to make a dastardly escape. You wouldn’t dare, would you?”
At that familiar voice, Kim practically falls out of his chair- only saved by his instincts reaching for the edge of his work desk, not so gracefully recovering into a visage resembling a normal person. He wipes away at the sudden sweat that beads on his forehead.
“Aeng-Du! What a surprise… hm? You brought a snack into the workplace?” Kim can’t help but ask, pointing at the bag of fried chicken in her clutches. Aeng-Du blinks at him owlishly before nodding, thrusting it into his face.
“Since you were suffering from continuous hunger during our work meeting, plundering not only Lady Ezra’s snacks, but mine as well; I thought it beneficial to provide you sustenance in additional ways. Or does my Mentor consider this unsatisfactory for his cravings?” Her voice drips with the typical cunning, chilling tone she takes with her… strange lapses of staring Kim down. He promptly responds with a severe shaking of his head back and forth, trying not to shiver as he takes a piece of chicken and pops it into his mouth.
It’s a brief reverie to the misery of paperwork, paperwork, and paperwork he’s had to stare at for the past hour. Ah, how he wishes that this could last forever… this, and an hour of watching his favorite telenovella lately, please…
“Say, Aeng-Du…”
“Procrastination will not get your work done faster, Mentor. Need I bar the doors to make you finish? There is a chair there, a potted plant here… all enough to make a formidable barricade.”
“Gh- no, not that, that won’t be needed… I was just thinking; you’ve surely finished all your work earlier. Why are you still around?”
Aeng-Du stares back at him wordlessly, before sighing and leaning against the edge of his desk. She clenches and unclenches her prosthetic hand, watching the mechanism within shift and pull aimlessly.
“I had a feeling you would be the last one remaining. So, I elected to leave earlier in the day, and come back when you’d still be slaving away. Or shall I say, ‘slacking’ away? Whichever you’d find more apt.”
Kim glowers as he sets the food down to pick the pen back up, squinting at the blasted paperwork again. Name of the distortion… did they get that from that ragtag team? Was that in the meeting?? He’s racking his mind, he really is… gah, fried chicken is better though…
Suddenly, Aeng-Du’s breath is over his shoulder, brushing past his ear as her hand comes to take the pen from his grasp.
“The Flash Phenomenon. That is its name. Are there any other details required that you are quite puzzled over? The description of its abilities, its state of distortion… all were witnessed before our very eyes, so you should not take struggle with them.”
Her head is practically tucked over his shoulder, peering down analytically. Kim nods and begins to scribble down what he can remember (the familiar scents of S Corp, blood, and the burning flesh of the brand upon his skin), before he comes to a pause.
Aeng-Du tilts her head.
“Is something the matter, Mentor?”
“… Aeng-Du. Do you not resent me?”
The pen clatters to the floor with little fanfare. Aeng-Du’s gaze goes blank as she presses her lips in a thin line, and Kim sighs.
It’s only natural, isn’t it? Physical recovery is one thing— mentally, he’s sure she can understand his feelings. When he sleeps, he dreams of conversing with that voice, falling for its temptations- of coming to with the blood of his fellows’ on his hands, their bodies so mutilated he couldn’t even tell which parts were his men and which were the Kurokumo’s. How he had killed their hopes not once, not twice, but thrice. A promise to flee home to find anew, to seek a temporary escapade in the Library to escape an unseeded alteration, and a final stand where he was supposed to protect, not become someone that they had to be protected from.
What sane person wouldn’t resent a man fallen so far like that?
“I do resent you, Mentor.”
The words don’t come as a slap to the face, nor as a cold, hard realization. It's a matter of fact, like all other undeniable truths in life. Birds belong in the sky. Plants cannot grow from barren soil.
There is no free will in the City.
He lets out a hollow laugh at the predictable answer, ready to let out another carefree comment to defuse it- but is stopped when Aeng-Du continues.
“Yet at the same time, I hold the deepest hopes for you. For us. I cannot take back the respect, the admiration I have poured into you, and even now, passionately believe in. But, when those mix in with these other emotions…”
Aeng-Du rests her chin on his shoulder, and her hands have come to wrap around his waist before he could even realize it.
“I need you to live so I can decide for myself, Mentor. You said it yourself. I am your last remaining follower, and you are my only Mentor.”
She finally comes to a stop as she lets out a deep sigh, and only then does Kim relax in his seat, having unknowingly tensed up as he talks.
“… Thank you, Aeng-Du.”
“It would be more beneficial to thank me more efficiently by working on that paperwork. For Lady Ezra and Lady Moses’ sake. You shouldn’t take advantage of their goodwill while they can still afford you no small amount.”
Kim winces as he nods, picking up the pen from the floor as he resumes recording data. He hums to himself, making no move to pry Aeng-Du off him.
“It’s a shame things fell through. Once we could have properly claimed territory, I’m sure you would have no shortage of suitors coming to your door. You would make a lovely bride, Aeng-Du.”
Her infallible mask slips as she sputters, squeezing too hard on Kim’s poor abdomen as she presses his cheek to his.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you would have been pursued. I never restricted relationships within the Blade Lineage, as you know. It’s just that, as nomads do, not many people sought attachment above survival in our faction.”
“… Hm. That is true, except when you would fake illiteracy to avoid accepting other salsus' romantic poems…”
Kim gives her a cursory glance as the shadow suddenly comes back over her eyes, rewarding himself with a little treat as he reaches for the bag of fried chicken to gobble down another piece. A small slip of paper falls out, and he catches it before it hits the ground.
It’s a string of numbers. And a note that says ‘if you’re interested’…?
“… Aeng-Du. Was the… owner of this stall particularly interested in you?”
“He gave a passing compliment to my looks, yes. Why do you ask?”
A blue glint leaks from Kim’s eyes as he grits his teeth together, now fully focused on finishing this scrap of paper he’s now glaring at like it’s the rats of the City.
“I would not give away my last remaining follower so swiftly. I shall confront him when I finish, and you may be in tow.”
Aeng-Du watches as he moves like a man possessed, finally wielding the pen like a second blade, movements swift and precise. She snuggles (she believes that is the correct word, akin to what Lady Ezra does to her and Lady Moses) closer against his back, relishing in his warmth even through his coat.
“I’ll be here to proofread it thoroughly, Mentor.”
In truth,
She doesn’t want this night to end, where it’s just the two of them. But she said it herself—
She’ll make him live on, so she can decide what she wants not just for herself, but for both of them. That is for certain.
Aeng-Du presses her forehead against his back, smiling to herself where he can’t see.
With these blades-
Could they carve out matching holes in their lives for each other? The idea alone…
There’s still time to execute it. Just lie in wait, and then wait for the perfect time to strike. Just like her Mentor taught her.