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Once you already lost everything, it’d make sense for you to be protective of anything else that might be yours, right?
Because if you could never forget the loss you felt—
Then you’d do anything to avoid feeling like that, right?
The easiest way to do that would be to just… not letting yourself to be put in that position in the first place.
Do not let people close to you, because people are fragile, the world is cruel, and the Universe War started again.
There were big rings to fill, after all, and he just had to shoulder the cost of victory, to stop this nonsensical cycle that seemingly started anew.
But it was hard, not to compare mentally.
Sumino was the first one, who noticed that something was off, after all.
Probably made sense, with a detective.
“If you were the previous Gozyu Wolf, the other rings had previous users too, didn’t they?”
“That’s how it works, yes.”
“Hmmmm. Tell me about the previous Gozyu Unicorn.”
What was there to say?
Women who loved so fiercely that the pain and loss pushed they endured pushed them forward. They’d keep going, and there was nothing to stop them.
Misaki, who died to save a little girl, her inability to fulfill her own wish. Her wish of revenge, of justice for her family ripped away from her, but she still jumped forward to try to protect what she had now.
Misaki’s dry voice as she read Mashiro’s fortunes.
“Your fortune isn’t great. It talks about a lot more loss, and pain in your future.”
“Aren’t fortune tellers supposed to tell people what they want to hear? Or is this you trying to panic me into paying you more for fortunes?”
“You aren’t paying me,” Misaki said, putting away her cards. “So I’m just telling you what I see.”
“I don’t believe in your fortunes.”
“That is not my problem.”
She was sharp but she hid her caring side even less than Sumino did. Sumino, who laughed and called herself a luxurious detective, with her sharp eyes and keen senses, and she let Mashiro wiggle out from her scrutinizing gaze way less than Misaki did.
So he had to tell Sumino something, right?
“She was fighting for her family too.”
“Clearly couldn’t get her wish, right? Seeing as you won.”
Her blood on Mashiro’s hands.
“That is correct. I was the winner.”
At first glance there was nothing similar between Kinjiro and Midoriko. One of them an old man, the other a child. He truly did wonder why did the Gozyu Eagle ring seem incapable of picking someone of an appropriate age to fight.
But anyway, TegaSword was not answering that question.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kinjiro walked up to him, his inquisitive eyes trying to study Mashiro’s face.
“You have lost a lot, haven’t you?”
It was blunt at to the point, and an old man like Joji most definitely had people die on him, Mashiro knew this.
And Mashiro laughed, putting an arm around Kinjiro.
“Do not feel sorry for me. The path of a god is a lonely one, after all.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
What was the alternative?
He… didn’t know what to make of Rikuo.
Idols were obviously not a new thing, but the industry was definitely changing.
He wondered if the Gozyu Leon ring liked people who tried to make people smile.
Seiya was like that, focusing on the kids who were lost and aimless, trying to help them out. And Rikuo, in front of his fans, shining always, and while his smile didn’t fade when he walked off from the stage, there was a sadness in his eyes, that reminded of him of Seiya, when he looked up to the sky, longing.
Seiya would drag him along to help out, and Mashiro would grumble and complain, but still be there for the kids. Rikuo did not drag him along for his concerts, just like he didn’t drag any of the others either, but when he caught Mashiro backstage, he laughed.
“Oh my. Do I have a fan who just sneaks backstage? Need I call security?”
“Not like they could catch a Godness such as I.”
“Not denying being a fan, are we?”
In Rikuo’s perfectly styled hair, a stray strand had gotten free, and Mashiro sighed before reaching out and tucking it behind his ear.
“Not my style of music.”
“Yet you are smiling.”
Yet, he was.
Seiya would always listen to everyone, and Rikuo was always watching, as if trying to pay attention himself. Their ears always turned towards the voices of others, yet in so different ways.
Ryugi was the most different, and he couldn’t quite figure out anything that the Gozyu Tyranno ring was going for.
Naoto was strong, even without the ring, as he’d often take it off when he was sparring with Mashiro, and then vault him over his shoulder when he complained. Ryugi would always have his ring on his finger, looking over his glasses in a devastating manner, bluntly informing everyone that taking it off would be sacrilege against TegaSword.
Naoto was someone all of them relied on, Ryugi might have looked after their dietary needs, but otherwise was more aloof than anything else.
Naoto was protecting them, Ryugi was waiting for them.
Naoto burned, and Ryugi was resolute, unwavering.
Still, was the first one to end up fighting the others.
When he eventually returned, Ryugi reached out to him.
“You have had experiences of fighting others with the Gozyuger rings, have you not?”
“That’s how the Universe War goes,” Mashiro sighed, stretching his arms. “You eventually end up fighting.”
It wasn’t a lie, not really.
Eventually they would have had to fight each other for the rings.
It just… turned out they had to fight differently first.
It wasn’t fully a lie.
“If that is TegaSword’s will.”
Was it? Mashiro really did wonder.
Of course TegaSword would never actually answer that.
“You’d be happy to give your life to TegaSword, right?”
“Of course I would be.”
“And what if TegaSword would ask for someone else’s life?”
“He would not.”
“How do you know?”
“That’s what having faith means, Kumade Mashiro,” Ryugi looked deep into Mashiro’s eyes. “I trust in the God that I have chosen, and the God who has chosen me, that would not ask for a pointless sacrifice.”
Pointless.
Wasn’t it what it was?
If not for the OrcaBooster…
“You are so naive.”
“And you are too jaded.”
“You have never asked about my experiences with TegaSword. What if—”
“TegaSword is a genuine God, one who can also learn from the past,” Ryugi interrupted him. “Isn’t that what you’re also doing?”
So much for infallible gods, probably.
He should have hated Ryugi. Truly, he should have. For the yellow he wore, for the way he talked about a foolish thing he considered a god, and yet, when Ryugi always packed out more honey for him, he couldn’t help but smile.
He didn’t have to look too deep for similarities with what the Gozyu Wolf ring seemed to be looking for, not that he would have admitted it out loud.
He saw the way the others would drag Tono Hoeru around, and the way he would sneer and grumble and even bite, and yet, he would go with them, even lead them at times with a barely hidden smile on his face.
“You are so full of shit, you have to know that, right?”
“Now whatever could you be talking about, Second Gen?”
“Staying away from us half the time. You are so full of shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rikuo told me your heart always speeds up when you do come over. And Kinjiro said you are sometimes just lurking around. Why would you stay away?”
Hands dragging him back, giving him a pep talk about what was going on.
Second Gen, crouching over Mashiro, who was lying on his back where he used to spar so much with—
(He remembered the panic that rushed over him when Hoeru grabbed the Orca Booster, the way the flames danced around him, for a horrible moment, he remembered, and he thought— he thought—)
“It’s better for a God to keep their distance.”
There was no response and Mashiro opened an eye, and just saw Second Gen sniffling the air.
“What?”
“Smells like bullshit. Is it got to do with whatever happened to your old team?”
Tono Hoeru had the tact of a wolf launched to the face, and Mashiro sighed.
“We are going to be fighting each other one day.”
“It doesn’t mean we have to be enemies. Come on. Don’t be an idiot.”
And he stood up, offering a hand to Mashiro, who quickly thought over his options.
Instead, he reached up, grabbed Hoeru’s wrist, yanking him down, to flip him over, pinning him to the ground. Which just caused him to yelp.
“You have still much to learn, Second Gen.”
“You—”
He didn’t let him finish the string of expletives.
Turns out, all of them were wrong.
Last time, he lost everyone, he carried the pain with himself through the rest of the Universe War, rings digging into his palms until they drew blood.
Now, he refused to carry all this weight with him, and—
Well.
Might have been the fate of Gozyu Wolf to carry that pain, in the end.
Of course, that wasn’t fully it.
Because Second Gen just would not back down, would he?
That was also another thing in common with the Gozyu Wolves.
Of course they wouldn’t let him stay away, even when he was literally a god. Really, how disrespectful can one get?
Not that they allowed him to complain too much, and turns out, even a god can get weaker, when trapped in the arms of some other people.
Turns out.
But becoming a God meant some other things too - mainly, he’d get to look around more, and even meet some other deities.
How odd, was it not?
A man and a woman, hiding on a faraway planet, seemingly happy for any company, for one. An overlord looking over his world with scrutinizing eyes, as if waiting for humanity to trip up.
A man with a camera, who didn’t seem much, but he snorted upon passing Mashiro on the street, snapping a picture of him.
But the most interesting one was—
Well.
“You seem so relaxed,” A voice spoke to him - a hollow, empty voice. “You have lost everything twice already. Why aren’t you trying to hold onto what you have now stronger?”
He recognized the person.
He had met with a God of Creation before, in his travels through the world - mischievous glint in his eyes, and his chosen warriors, so to speak.
“How do they handle you being away from them?”
“Badly,” The God of Creation would grin. “I told them it’s better to just forget me - loving a God rarely ends well, does it? But they are so stubborn. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. I wouldn’t have fallen for them, if they would give up that easily.”
Mashiro could understand that.
And now, it was the God of Creation standing in front of him, only… not.
His hair white, just like that couple’s on that faraway planet, eyes eerie blue and it almost felt like he was looking straight through Mashiro, like he wasn’t even there.
“...what happened with you?”
“Nothing yet,” The God of Creation(?) replied. “The me who you met is still me.”
“...the future, huh? Here to change it?”
“To save the world,” There was a hollow smile on his face. “Isn’t that we do? As heroes, as gods, as victors?”
“What are you planning to do?”
“You know the feeling as well, don’t you, God of Victory? Sometimes victory has a cost. Sometimes you lose everything and everyone you loved over and over again. But that’s what makes us gods. That we can twist the fate and avoid it.”
He remembered back then, Naoto carrying him in his arms, Seiya attached to his side, Misaki’s kisses when he least expected it. Their blood on his hands, and how he could have wished for thing to go back to normal, to Midoriko to remember, and all of them to be happy again, the war had to end, the Calamity had to be gone—
(And then it wasn’t, so what was the point—)
…the point was Hoeru’s smile whenever he had seen any of them, Rikuo hiding their names in song dedications, Sumino sending them pictures wherever she went, Ryugi making food for them and Kinjiro not letting them get too wrapped up in themselves. That was the point.
“The ones you love? Those three—”
“They fell so long ago, alongside the world. Now I’m going to fix it,” The God of Creation reached out, taking Mashiro’s face between his hands. “You— keep on to the ones you love, God of Victory. Because once you lose them, what will you do? When they are so sure they can handle it, when your trust falls apart, what will you do?”
“Keep fighting,” Mashiro sneered, ripping himself away from the other God’s touch. “That’s what being the God of Victory means. I’ll always win.”
And the God of Creation laughed, throwing his head back, but there was no joy, no other feeling in that hollow laugh.
“I wonder.”
And with that, he was gone.
Whatever that meant.
A little bit later, the real God of Creation visited Mashiro, dark hair and eyes, and he seemed way more relaxed.
“Met an insane version of you.”
“So did I,” The God of Creation nodded. “But it’s alright. We averted that future.”
“We?”
“My chosen ones and me.”
“He talked a lot about losing them.”
“...not surprising,” The God of Creation tilted his head to the side. “They are stubborn, my chosen ones. Told you before, would not let me keep my distance, even though it would have been better for them. They told me swiftly where to stuff it. Well, Buffa did, but I don’t think Na-Go and Tycoon disagreed, judging from their expressions.”
“...they tend to do that.”
“They do.”
Mashiro studied the God of Creation’s face.
“What happened? With that future you?”
“Things sometimes go wrong. That doesn’t mean we have to stop trying. You know what I mean, don’t you?”
Mashiro snorted, crossing his arm in front of his chest, before walking away.
He didn’t need to reply, and the other god didn’t need him to, after all.
“Are all gods bearly weird?”
“Did you just call me weird?”
“I also called myself bearly weird! What is an angel, if not an aspect of a god?”
Mashiro smiled, as he looked up at the screen, a familiar young woman talking with the press again.
She really was making heaps in the world, wasn’t she?
Could have went to her, but—
Why make her remember all that? Why make her remember the dead body wrapped around her, blood covering both of them?
Why make her remember the pain and confusion of betrayal? Why make her remember all of them were gone, and Mashiro—
…Mashiro remained the same, but the little girl grew up.
Maybe there was nothing to be said.
“Let’s go BearKuma. Let’s pay a visit to TegaSword village.”
His people were bound to be there, after all.