Day 48: Courtyard

[thatdamnedninja]

"I could tell you some stories," Yuffie suggested brightly, "of unquestionable legality." Illegality, that was. Petty little things like the law didn't usually mean very much to her, except for the times when she had to uphold it. Always fun for the breaking, though, the law, and messy for the clean-up. Just the way she liked it

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[finalwitch]

The theory proposed on the bulletin--the one suggesting their entire lives were elements of fiction--was unexpected. In its own morbid way, however, it made sense. The idea took everything into account at one fell swoop, creating a clean cut hypothesis compared to the others. Occam's Razor, more or less. With false realities, she could reason away Rolo's Area 11, Albedo's hundreds of not-siblings, and Junpei's Shadows and Tartarus. She could clear away the presence of an island's legend--

Beatrice, the Witch in Gold, the culprit of the Rokkenjima Mass Murder incidents.

--and the living vessel of a beloved brother.

It meant taking the entirety of her life and declaring it impossible, but in understanding its worth, she could not mind so much. Her reality meant nothing in the end; the prospect of a make-believe life changed little in Ange's honest opinion. Granted, her reply stayed true when looked at objectively: the prospect was damning. She would have to be 'nice' in future investigations by keeping the matter to herself (unless deemed otherwise, of course).

With those concepts in mind, the young woman was led to the courtyard. The weather had grown chilly from her time in Tokyo; therefore, she accepted the coat her nurse provided as she headed out. Gray clouds darkened the sky, telling of rain or possibly snow, but Ange paid no mind. She took to walking down the path ahead, brain running on cycles.

[Come to me, Onii-chan. And I guess that witch can join, too.]

[dreadofthegrave]

Though it was only his second day there, Battler couldn't help but decide that there was something unsettling about this place. It seemed that in every direction, there was some new question to be asked. That much was normal--there were always questions --but these weren't quite on the same level. It was frustrating, to know so little. Back on the game board, there was at least some sense of direction, but even that wasn't certain here. It seemed like every moment of calm was shattered by something bizarre, but not the kind that he was used to debating. The grey clouds didn't help, either; they were too reminiscent of the storms that came, trapping everyone on the island. .... They always started out innocent like this, didn't they. Rather than a gloomy day, it almost felt like a sign that something bad was going to happen. Of course, that was an idiotic thought. Cloudy skies were brought about by the weather cycle. There was no such thing as a 'sign'; foreshadowing was something that occurred in fiction, not reality.

... Maybe he'd gotten too used to horrible things happening, to the point where he would begin to expect them. He did his best to shove the atmosphere and that unsettling breakfast from his mind. Thanks to the bulletin, there were people he needed to look for. Naminé and Luke, right? Instead, he ended up spotting familiar red hair. .... Ange.

He couldn't help but pause for a moment. She really was here, wasn't she? Part of him wanted to deny that that meeting had ever happened, but there was no way he could do that. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to her, he just wasn't entirely sure how. It would be far too easy to make their situation even harder. However, that was no excuse to avoid her, either. ... No, he couldn't do that. Besides, did a name really mean that everything had to be strange? There were things that couldn't be said out loud, but that didn't mean that they had to be strangers, either. Even just a few meetings was enough to speak familiarly to some people. It was probably the best that could be done, to not make everything unbearable.

"Hey, Greta." The greeting was casual enough, but the name come out a little forced. He could only help that she didn't notice, and make a note to avoid using it if possible. "Sorry about lunch the other day. That was kind of.... Well, I guess I was having a rough day."

He did his best to smile reassuringly. He didn't like it, but even though it was hardly ideal, it was still a vast improvement on their initial meeting. ... He had to make this work, somehow.

[finalwitch]

Thoughts continued, a compilation of questions and answers rolling inside her head. Perhaps it was dangerous to entertain a concept gotten by a pure whim. Perhaps she was overcome by boredom. Who could say? As long as no interruptions occurred, Ange would persist. It was all she could do at this state.

Of course, just as the young woman began to unearth the more interesting pieces, she caught the two syllables of a fake name and stopped. If the speaker had been anyone else, Ange would have continued her walk without caring if they would bother to join her. If it had been anyone else...

She glanced up the taller figure, her face unconsciously contorting in pain at his features. It vanished in the next second, leaving one to wonder if the expression had ever been there. Even she couldn't say. "Are you still on about that?" Ange muttered, not bothering to offer a return greeting. "...It's fine. It was more my fault anyway. Sorry."

[dreadofthegrave]

... This wasn't going to be easy, was it? Were he to be honest, that expression was probably something he'd normally overlook completely, but this time, it was more than obvious. It was hard to tell if it was because he'd grown a little more mature or understanding, or if it was only because the knowledge of the situation amplified everything. Battler pretended to turn and look to the side for a moment, so that he could prevent himself from visibly cringing. That sort of thing wasn't going to help anything, after all.

"Forget about it," he shrugged. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea, that's all." He said it only to match to the conversation, but it wasn't a lie, either. Right now, appearing weak or uncertain would just be an insult. It was that sort of sense; like he had to carry to confidence for both of them. ... There was no stopping just because of this, only constantly striving to press the fight forward. That much, he owed her.

"So, how are things going? This place isn't exactly my idea of fun, but I've seen worse things, too." It may have been small-talk, but there was a different tone to his words than of a stranger making polite conversation. There was a genuine interest there, one that he wasn't wasn't even aware that he was showing.

[finalwitch]

"Wrong idea" was an understatement. The entire conversation last lunch had been strewn with misconceptions and lies, and if Ange was honest with herself, straightening them out would require too much. How was she supposed to tell her brother (even with his presence under questioning) that 'Greta' was as uncertain as the existence of unicorns? You did not come out and claim such things after throwing off his affections like...

Dammit. If she could wring her hands and scream, she might have made quite the spectacle in the courtyard. As it was, Ange simply regarded each gesture, look, and word with a blank stare. Even if she would rather cling despairingly to Battler's arms and cry.

"They're as expected," she answered, voice cold. "I'm somewhat surprised no one has died yet considering all the stories, but whatever..." As though prompted by a thought, the young woman began to assess him visually. "You look unharmed."

[dreadofthegrave]

It was funny. The first time Battler had met this Ange, he'd had trouble dealing with her way way of speaking. He'd always been like that; it was hard to deal with people who seemed cold or distant, especially being the sort of person who wanted to laugh and screw around. However, he was slowly beginning to realize that a cold exterior was normally just that; an exterior. Natsuhi, Kyrie, even Dlanor; that initial distance wasn't the entire story. Now that he could understand their feelings a little better, his perspective was completely different. That was doubly true for Ange. On the outside, it looked like a failed attempt, like they couldn't get along and he was just being annoying by continuing to try, but that sense wasn't present. Probably, no matter what she did or said, he would never get a sense of animosity from it, even where most people would.

That being the case, that next comment was enough to get a visible reaction out of him. He paused, grimacing, as though the words had physically assaulted him. Right after he'd tried to tell himself he wouldn't do this sort of thing.... But he couldn't get used to it, even after after all the times he'd witnessed it. Maybe that was a good thing. Battler didn't want to see the day when he stopped caring, when the idea of losing loved ones wasn't painful anymore. That human compassion was one of the things that had kept him going after all this time. Even so, he really didn't want show her than kind of face.

"Sorry, that's--..." He tried to compose himself before answering, "I'm fine. I did almost get attacked by a guy with a sword last night, but as you can see, I'm still standing. I guess nothing's gotten you yet either, then? Hope it... stays that way." It was only partway through that a certain sense of irony on that statement began to set in, but he was able to keep a pleasant face despite the awkward pause. Despite the implications, the feeling was genuine.

[finalwitch]

Something in his reaction was worrisome, and Ange wavered momentarily in response. For a minute, she feared she might have crossed a line with her comment, except the girl couldn't be sure what had thrown him off. Eyes fell to the ground below them, tracing lines and patterns in the paved path until Battler saw fit to speak again. When he did, she had regained her stoic's face.

Only to be lost in the next instant.

"Guy with a...sword?" Ange echoed, the disbelief obvious in her tone. "What happened?" Whatever happened was unacceptable. Certainly, Battler was still well and good, but the prospect of being attacked by an armed person was hardly worth a brush off. As such, his open concern lay forgotten, with Ange torn on the possibility of loss. Again.

[dreadofthegrave]

That was an easier recovery than excepted. It wasn't that talking like this was simple, but it was by far less strained than the previous day, where he was trying not scream under the sudden flood of emotions. They were definitely still there, but his time, they could actively be fought against. For that reason, he was more than glad for the subject. Something unfamiliar would probably be the easiest for both of them.

"About that, I'm not really sure, to be honest," Battler admitted. "I was having a conversation, and then someone with a sword walks in, telling us to leave. It was kind of hard to believe at first. I mean, who's going to be attacking people with something like that these days? That's something you'd expect to see in some kind of movie, not real life. If anything, it looked like some kind of costume prop. Turns out, that wasn't the case, although I was able to get out of there before anything happened to me. I thought I had an idea of what was going on, but...."

He ended up shrugging. It wasn't something he wanted show to indifference towards, because the idea of having of to defend against attacks like that was worrisome, especially when it came to someone smaller and weaker than himself. However, there wasn't anything else he could say on the subject. The bits he'd read on the bulletin with the attacker apologizing put a big hole in his initial assumptions. He was going to have to track him down and hear his explanation before he really knew what was going on.

[finalwitch]

The urge to berate Battler and his poorly-worded explanation rose sharp and fierce. Even in light of confusion, he shouldn't have been so careless; he should have ran for his life the moment the sword came into view--or at the very least, defended himself. Ange opened her mouth to say exactly that, only to recall a couple of minor details: one, she was playing the stranger to Battler. Concern would unfortunately give too much of that lie away.

And two, she hadn't been there to prevent the mistake. Dealing out chastisements now, after running around with a mere acquaintance as opposed to protecting her brother, would be the grossly hypocritical.

In a last-minute decision, Ange inhaled nasally before grunting, "Just be less of an idiot next time." Be more careful, she added silently.

[dreadofthegrave]

In a normal situation, Battler probably would have taken offense to that comment, but instead, he ended up grinning. Because of the person it came from, the hidden meaning wasn't hard to understand. It was that, right? That 'tsundora' persona George-aniki predicted was going to get popular sometime in the near future. Battler couldn't say he knew much about those sorts of trends, but the concept was easy to spot.

"Ihihi, well. I was just caught a little off-guard, that's all. If it happens again, I'm prepared for the worst. I'm not about to let some creepy place like this stop me! I can't die so easily, when there's still so much left to do. ... That's sort of preparedness I need, at least. It's necessary, and you could even call it the key element, but I'm not a little kid who thinks they can win things by willpower alone. Certain gambles might look like they have a good payoff, but you also have to consider if you're willing to pay the price when you lose. Some things can't be recovered so easily. Life is one of those, right? I can't give mine up quite yet."

Few things in life were worth sacrificing everything for, and Battler was painfully aware of what his were. Ange was too, he realized. She'd already taken that bet before, and placed all she had on the one that she found that most worthy. He talked as though he was careful, but maybe that boldness was something they had in common.

"You know, this probably isn't my business, but you shouldn't be too reckless, either. You might be giving up more than you think."

.... Shit. He really needed to stop saying things without thinking about them. Would it be too weird, if he wrote everything down and read over it before speaking? Those embarrassing phrases he'd sometimes use were horrible enough, but this was something completely different. This wasn't just a matter of making himself look like an idiot.

He tried to laugh the comment off, as though it held no special meaning, but it came out pretty obviously forced when compared with his usual demeanor. .... He'd never been very good at lying or pretending. This conversation was a testament to that.

[finalwitch]

Her heart skipped several beats as Ange considered Battler, although the reason for the reaction had nothing to do with his short speech. To be honest, it leaned toward the cheesy side of the spectrum, to the point she had to wonder if he had always been this dramatic in her memories. The sentiment hardly mattered, she supposed, not when the fear of loss lingered too close to the surface.

But what could Ange do? Battler was his own person. A "stranger" didn't have much of a say in looking over another's well-being. Ah, well. Whether fake, fictional, dead, or otherwise-- As long as he stayed unharmed, as long as he exercised caution, he could rant about stupid things as much as he wanted.

She shook her head, something like pity in the motion, and went to shoot down his poetics. Battler didn't give the young woman a chance, however. His next words touched on a subject that had her fumbling for a response. Giving up more than you think? What could he possibly mean by that?

A pause, then Ange turned to continue down the path. "You're a strange boy," she commented (or more appropriately, grumbled). "What would I be giving up?"

[dreadofthegrave]

Ah, geez, how was he supposed to answer that...? The actual meaning wasn't something he could lay out in the open with uncovering what he knew, which amounted to more than was safe. There was no saying that revealing things indirectly would cause the same sort of effect, but that was something he couldn't even dream of testing. That single scene had already played too many times, and there was no reason to create a new one for some meaningless sense of self-comfort. Of course, that didn't mean Battler wanted to lie, either. Weren't there too many building up already?

"Well, I wonder..." he muttered vaguely. "I guess you could say that, at least one person is always going to care what happens? Something like that." The words held a similar meaning, but they ended up so clichéd that they lost the ability to convey anything, making the attempt to reach around the issue transparent at best. Even Battler was aware of it. It was a strange feeling, being so roundabout in the most irritating way, when he'd normally be more forthcoming. It gave him a certain sense of dishonesty, even though that wasn't the case.

"...No, that's no good. How about this? Let's just agree to keep ourselves safe. There should be no problem there, right~?" It was a childish thing to say, but sometimes innocent things like that held the greatest amount of reassurance, and it wasn't as though he'd ever felt particularly adult. He almost had to wonder how much easier this would be if he had the maturity of his older cousin, even if it was nothing but wishful thinking.

[finalwitch]

Battler sounded more and more like a hopeless optimist with each passing breath. She wouldn't argue that having someone who consistently cared for her welfare would be wanted. In truth, Ange desired the circumstance more than life: the knowledge she had a single ally in the world, even if that world happened to be as stale as today's weather.

But a simple fact remained, and despite its brutal nature, it had to be addressed. "One person, huh?" she replied. Her voice hinted at amusement, as though to tease him. It rang strangely empty instead. "I wonder what that's like." Ushiromiya Ange had no allies, after all. Eva oba-san, her business associates, and the greedy Sumadera family used her in various ways for their own means while she had shattered the ones who might have been. Even this Battler saw her as nothing more than an acquaintance; she was simply "Greta" to him.

The only potential she had was a deal, and even that had been taken from her.

If not for Battler's amendment, she might have left the conversation at that. Something about it, however, struck her as a weird form of wisdom, and as if to make amends, Ange stopped walking long enough to consider her brother. "That sounds more reasonable," she said. "I have no problem with staying alive."

[dreadofthegrave]

That, huh...? Battler was more than aware of the details; how couldn't he be? There was no erasing the glimpses of that cruel, harsh world as her blood seeped into his back. ... He could still cry over everything. Every subtle reminder didn't get better with time. But that was useless, especially with her standing right in front of him. There was no way that their pain measured up; his own was only second-hand. For her, everything had to be much, much worse, and if she could hold up under all of that weight, who was he to scream over it, especially when so much could have been prevented...? It was more than a struggle to stop himself from yelling out something stupid, about how it was okay if she cried, that there would be nothing wrong with releasing those painful feelings. Somehow, her composure made that even worse. If he could just do that for both of them, then he gladly would, not caring what sort of scene he caused as he screamed, but... Neither could. Not under these pretenses.

As it was, he could only offer a sad, bitter smile. "No allies, huh...? I wonder. Sometimes they're closer than you might think. That sort of thing has definitely happened to me before." Even Ange herself was one of those instances. If he stopped to think about it, he really did get help from bizarre places. Even enemies weren't excluded.

It was stupid, but her next words felt like nothing but weight being lifted off of his shoulders. It was like a confirmation that they could continue this way, and carry all of that without getting knocked down. That was his feeling, at least. "Ihi, glad to hear that. Life is something that should be treasured, isn't it?"

Battler also paused, and with a firmness in his gaze, he offered his right hand. He remembered her declining something like this before, but this was something other than a simple greeting. Instead, it signaled that that this was as far as they went as near-strangers. Whether she accepted or not, that was laid out plainly, and that was all that he needed to get across. ... It was all he could do, to slowly cut across that distance of twelve years.

[finalwitch]

His responses grew only stranger; they were answers one would normally expect from eternal optimists...or people who sincerely cared. Ange found herself at a loss. Seriously, what was up with this guy? Did he feel some sort of obligation to Greta for looking like his sister? Of course, it was really her in this case, but that did nothing in terms of explaining his behavior. Couldn't he keep apart one from the other even if they were the same person in technicalities?

The paradox went unappreciated, but she supposed she could give Battler a benefit of a doubt. Ange edged closer to the young man, restrained curiosity lacing her countenance. "You talk like you went to Hell and back." Literally, perhaps. "Must have been a harsh experience, if you're serious."

Ange happened to glance down just as the hand extended out to her, and again, her face betrayed. Every disappointment, want, and fear rose to the surface-- She might as well have confessed right then if not for the one constant in her mind, knowing they couldn't extend beyond superficial pleasantries. Again, it disappeared, and without extra prompting, the girl drew out her right to touch his.

[dreadofthegrave]

That statement struck a chord in Battler, enough that he was almost taken aback. For some reason, he couldn't tell if there was some hidden message in those words, or just a bit of unintended irony. Maybe it was both; even he had been doing that during the course of their conversation. It wasn't something intentional, just an unfortunate side-effect of what he was desperately trying to keep internal. Could it be the same for her?

"Hell? ... That may be accurate. That's what you'd normally call a sentence to eternal torture, isn't it? But a place like that is nothing but damnation and resignation. It's something else entirely, knowing that chain can be cut even though you can't quite reach it. But even so, that hope isn't something I can't let go of. I can only stumble forward, believing I can grasp onto it." It was something one would normally expect to hear with a certain sense of resignation, but that was something Battler lacked. There was certainly pain and sadness, but also an undeniable sense of confidence, as though he could create the result himself.

He had to swallow thickly when he saw her expression, pausing internally, almost wondering if he was going about this the wrong way, but it was too late to question the decision. At this point, slow steps forward were the best that could managed. Instead of pausing to overthink things, he took the hand he was offered firmly, only breaking away when there was a sense of mutuality to it.