"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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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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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?"
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"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.
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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."
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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