smapfic day 30! - we become light, chapter thirty-nine
Title: We Become Light
Pairings: Nakai/Tsuyoshi, Kimura/Shingo/Goro
Rating: R for violence and swearing
Notes: Five men meet in a dystopian cyberpunk future to free their city from the Tower, with the help of motorcycle rebels, mysterious memories, and love.
They took the stairs, fighting their way up one flight at a time. The last few floors seemed to be jammed full of strange machinery, places hardly fit for what must have originally been the administration of a tyrannical but ordinary human. Their other selves did not recognize them.
At the top of the last stairwell, several elites and-- somehow-- a patrol were waiting.
"The Leaders have no use for you," the foremost elite intoned, brandishing a taser stick. "You will die here."
Goro gritted his teeth, a knife in either hand. "Might not be able to settle this one without casualties." Alongside him, Kimura nodded.
They were about to charge forward when a yell was heard from the doorway; rebels burst into the stairwell, taking the Tower soldiers by surprise. Behind them, Mori fought her way through, shouting over the din. "We'll hold them here, get to the elevator! The underground's broken into their system!" The elite with the tazer landed a blow on her chest; the jacket glowed brilliantly, absorbing the electricity. Mori punched the elite in the face.
"Thank you!" Tsuyoshi called back as they pushed past. Mori smiled, and turned back to the fight.
There was only one remaining floor on the elevator. The doors slid open, and memory twisted sharply; it was the room they'd seen in Madame's experience of the First Rebellion, the room the Five Stars had prepared for their final battle in. A single staircase led upward from the center of the room.
"This is it, then," Shingo murmured softly. "The last stop."
They climbed the final flight of stairs together-- or at least, in body if not in heart. They had left those behind, there was no time for such things when there was a city that needed to be saved.
Instead they carried their grief, their anger, their fear.
And they reached the top, where the man who ruled the city with a steel fist waited. The clouds pressed in close around the Tower, dark and growling, like a monster lurking at the edges.
"You have come to kill me," the man said, and smiled sharply.
Yes, that was it, that would solve everything-- no, that wasn't what they had planned, they only wanted to stop him--
"I will kill everyone. I will take everything. There will be nothing left." The man stepped towards them, hands spread wide. He seemed to grow taller, his voice an echo of the storm that surrounded them. "The only way to stop me is to kill me."
No, he was only human, surely all they had to do--
--was kill him, tear him apart for what he'd done--
--no--
And he appeared in their eyes to become something darker, not a man who ruled by lies and greed but instead something cruelcoldheartlessinhuman, like the storm itself descending to swallow them. If you take over, what then? Who will follow you? You who cannot stand together, who fear your own hearts, who cannot even look at each other--
They faltered, then. They'd sacrificed everything, pushing what they wanted away in order to be strong. But it hurt, even now it hurt, the ache of standing next to each other an eternity apart, and where pain lingered came anger, why should they be the ones to hurt for everyone else--
--they would take revenge, they craved it--
--and they realized, as the darkness rose not around them but within, that they'd chosen the wrong weapons after all.
The clouds seemed to press in at the windows, swirling darkly against the glass. They cast the room in a cold grey light, as unfeeling and emotionless as the Tower itself.
Yet, the five of them drew close together, facing each other, and themselves, in a tight circle of warmth. They had chosen a different weapon, this time.
She held the roll of bandages, unable to keep hurt, disappointment from her face. There were so many she hadn't been able to save, and each and every one weighed more heavily on her heart in the face of such rejection. It was selfish to have wanted anything, she'd let herself be distracted when she could have been saving people, and now she couldn't save anyone at all.
Shingo reached for Kimura's arm, old scars rough under his fingertips as he drew a medical welder from his pocket. "You're injured," he said, but it was with a gentle touch and a smile for the older man. He had lost many, but he'd saved many, too; not just through the skill of his hands but through the capacity of his heart. Of course it hurt to lose people. But that was because he loved them, all the more. He would keep loving them, no matter what.
We will save this city, he told himself, and bent to close the wound in Kimura's arm.
She paced restlessly, wrapping the bandage around her arm. She wasn't strong enough. She needed to be stronger. She couldn't waste her time getting distracted, she couldn't let her guard down. If they saw a weakness, they'd try to take advantage of it-- everyone did. Even the four fighting alongside her would, if she let them. The one over by the window was laughing at her, wasn't he?
Kimura watched Shingo's careful fingers, the instinct to jerk away a distant whisper in the past. He'd prided himself on his strength, throwing away all else as unnecessary to survive. But it was trust that had saved his life, that night, trust that not everyone would look at him and see something they could hurt. And with it had come love, quiet and slow, giving him so much more to fear but so much more to fight for. It was strength, beyond any other.
We'll all be strong enough, now. He rested an elbow on Goro's shoulder, giving the dark-haired man a grin. "Ready for one last fight?"
He could see the smile on his face, reflected in the cloud-smothered window. He knew he had no chance. It was spite, now, that made him smile, when he should have wanted the happiness of others, when he should have had the best interests of the city in his heart. What this what loving someone made you? He should have never loved at all, never came here at all.
Goro turned his head, gazing back at Kimura, at Shingo just beyond him. It seemed almost a dream that he'd tried to kill them once. He'd woken up into a nightmare, broken, even memories that didn't belong to him preferable to his own. But they'd taken him in, giving him a reason to fight back, giving him love-- and something to love back. They'd pieced him back together, no, helped him put himself back together, with his own hands. This was what love had made him. Himself.
He managed a faint smile, small but steady, emotions flooding through him for the four he'd come so far with. We'll fight for everyone, this time. "I am now."
He stood a pace behind her, at the base of the stairs. He'd always been behind her, it seemed, never quite fast enough or brave enough to keep up, to stand alongside her instead. Even now, when they'd made it so far, he still didn't have the courage to take that step forward. He'd already held everyone back with his weakness; he didn't want to hold her back with his selfishness, too.
Tsuyoshi slid his arm around Nakai's waist, leaning against his side. He looked like the man Tsuyoshi had first met, the day he'd gone from a world of sun and flowers to one in which he'd felt useless and weak. He'd pushed himself to keep up, to be as strong and brave as everyone around him-- but he'd realized, in the end, that there was something more important he could do.
We'll stand together, all of us as one. He pressed a kiss to Nakai's cheek, earning a blush and a warm look. "I'll stay by your side, no matter what."
She gazed up at the staircase, at the door at the top, and felt nothing but dread. There was no reason they wouldn't win. But winning wasn't the end of things; with the fall of one leader, another had to step into place. Someone people would follow, someone people saw as strong. The thought made her tired, alone. If there was someone with her, alongside her-- but she'd pushed him away, pushed everyone away, and it was too late to look back now.
Nakai looked up at the door, a flat black rectangle in an expanse of blank grey. Once the sight might have inspired fear, wondering what the Tower was going to take away this time. But now Tsuyoshi was here with him, Shingo and Kimura and Goro standing alongside him, people who had given him reason to fight the Tower, reason to overcome his fear and reach out. He wasn't the Tower, and he wasn't going to let the Tower take anything away.
We will not give in, he told that last whisper of doubt inside him, and rested his hand on Tsuyoshi's back, leaning into the younger man's touch. "Thank you."
He glanced at the others, and then back to Tsuyoshi, brow furrowing slightly. "We have to return the memories we have to them-- the Five Stars. There's a chance--" He hesitated, studying Tsuyoshi's face like it might be the last time it would look that way. "We might forget."
"How we feel?" Tsuyoshi frowned, momentarily silent in thought. Then: "I won't." He looked at Nakai, his expression serious. "I love the Nakai I know now. Not because of the Five Stars. I won't forget that, because that's me."
Nakai stared at him for a moment longer, the words sinking in, and then swept both arms around him. "I won't-- I won't, either," he told Tsuyoshi's neck, pressed tightly against him. "It's my heart that loves you, isn't it? I thought I might not have one, but-- but I couldn't have rescued you if I didn't." He pulled back again to meet Tsuyoshi's gaze. "So I won't forget you, either. Ever."
Shingo and Kimura exchanged a glance, first with each other, then to Goro. "They're better at this than we are," Shingo said, and then Kimura was kissing him, pulling Goro into both of their arms. "I'm done forgetting," Goro murmured, leaning his head on Shingo's shoulder. "Too many good things to remember now."
"Agreed." Kimura touched Goro's cheek, his hand drifting from there to the scar on Shingo's neck. "Too many important things."
Shingo ran his fingers through Goro's hair, smiling at Kimura warmly. "Guess I'd better remember, then. Someone's gotta keep you two from doing any more crazy death-defying stunts." He gave them both a poke in the side.
They faced each other again, bracing themselves for the battle ahead. "Ready?" Shingo asked, securing his goggles in his hair.
Nakai drew the knife from his pocket, studying the blade, the hilt, the hand that held it. Then, he set it down on the floor, behind him. "Ready," he answered, and took Tsuyoshi's hand.
Together, they climbed the staircase, and opened the door.
Pairings: Nakai/Tsuyoshi, Kimura/Shingo/Goro
Rating: R for violence and swearing
Notes: Five men meet in a dystopian cyberpunk future to free their city from the Tower, with the help of motorcycle rebels, mysterious memories, and love.
They took the stairs, fighting their way up one flight at a time. The last few floors seemed to be jammed full of strange machinery, places hardly fit for what must have originally been the administration of a tyrannical but ordinary human. Their other selves did not recognize them.
At the top of the last stairwell, several elites and-- somehow-- a patrol were waiting.
"The Leaders have no use for you," the foremost elite intoned, brandishing a taser stick. "You will die here."
Goro gritted his teeth, a knife in either hand. "Might not be able to settle this one without casualties." Alongside him, Kimura nodded.
They were about to charge forward when a yell was heard from the doorway; rebels burst into the stairwell, taking the Tower soldiers by surprise. Behind them, Mori fought her way through, shouting over the din. "We'll hold them here, get to the elevator! The underground's broken into their system!" The elite with the tazer landed a blow on her chest; the jacket glowed brilliantly, absorbing the electricity. Mori punched the elite in the face.
"Thank you!" Tsuyoshi called back as they pushed past. Mori smiled, and turned back to the fight.
There was only one remaining floor on the elevator. The doors slid open, and memory twisted sharply; it was the room they'd seen in Madame's experience of the First Rebellion, the room the Five Stars had prepared for their final battle in. A single staircase led upward from the center of the room.
"This is it, then," Shingo murmured softly. "The last stop."
They climbed the final flight of stairs together-- or at least, in body if not in heart. They had left those behind, there was no time for such things when there was a city that needed to be saved.
Instead they carried their grief, their anger, their fear.
And they reached the top, where the man who ruled the city with a steel fist waited. The clouds pressed in close around the Tower, dark and growling, like a monster lurking at the edges.
"You have come to kill me," the man said, and smiled sharply.
Yes, that was it, that would solve everything-- no, that wasn't what they had planned, they only wanted to stop him--
"I will kill everyone. I will take everything. There will be nothing left." The man stepped towards them, hands spread wide. He seemed to grow taller, his voice an echo of the storm that surrounded them. "The only way to stop me is to kill me."
No, he was only human, surely all they had to do--
--was kill him, tear him apart for what he'd done--
--no--
And he appeared in their eyes to become something darker, not a man who ruled by lies and greed but instead something cruelcoldheartlessinhuman, like the storm itself descending to swallow them. If you take over, what then? Who will follow you? You who cannot stand together, who fear your own hearts, who cannot even look at each other--
They faltered, then. They'd sacrificed everything, pushing what they wanted away in order to be strong. But it hurt, even now it hurt, the ache of standing next to each other an eternity apart, and where pain lingered came anger, why should they be the ones to hurt for everyone else--
--they would take revenge, they craved it--
--and they realized, as the darkness rose not around them but within, that they'd chosen the wrong weapons after all.
The clouds seemed to press in at the windows, swirling darkly against the glass. They cast the room in a cold grey light, as unfeeling and emotionless as the Tower itself.
Yet, the five of them drew close together, facing each other, and themselves, in a tight circle of warmth. They had chosen a different weapon, this time.
She held the roll of bandages, unable to keep hurt, disappointment from her face. There were so many she hadn't been able to save, and each and every one weighed more heavily on her heart in the face of such rejection. It was selfish to have wanted anything, she'd let herself be distracted when she could have been saving people, and now she couldn't save anyone at all.
Shingo reached for Kimura's arm, old scars rough under his fingertips as he drew a medical welder from his pocket. "You're injured," he said, but it was with a gentle touch and a smile for the older man. He had lost many, but he'd saved many, too; not just through the skill of his hands but through the capacity of his heart. Of course it hurt to lose people. But that was because he loved them, all the more. He would keep loving them, no matter what.
We will save this city, he told himself, and bent to close the wound in Kimura's arm.
She paced restlessly, wrapping the bandage around her arm. She wasn't strong enough. She needed to be stronger. She couldn't waste her time getting distracted, she couldn't let her guard down. If they saw a weakness, they'd try to take advantage of it-- everyone did. Even the four fighting alongside her would, if she let them. The one over by the window was laughing at her, wasn't he?
Kimura watched Shingo's careful fingers, the instinct to jerk away a distant whisper in the past. He'd prided himself on his strength, throwing away all else as unnecessary to survive. But it was trust that had saved his life, that night, trust that not everyone would look at him and see something they could hurt. And with it had come love, quiet and slow, giving him so much more to fear but so much more to fight for. It was strength, beyond any other.
We'll all be strong enough, now. He rested an elbow on Goro's shoulder, giving the dark-haired man a grin. "Ready for one last fight?"
He could see the smile on his face, reflected in the cloud-smothered window. He knew he had no chance. It was spite, now, that made him smile, when he should have wanted the happiness of others, when he should have had the best interests of the city in his heart. What this what loving someone made you? He should have never loved at all, never came here at all.
Goro turned his head, gazing back at Kimura, at Shingo just beyond him. It seemed almost a dream that he'd tried to kill them once. He'd woken up into a nightmare, broken, even memories that didn't belong to him preferable to his own. But they'd taken him in, giving him a reason to fight back, giving him love-- and something to love back. They'd pieced him back together, no, helped him put himself back together, with his own hands. This was what love had made him. Himself.
He managed a faint smile, small but steady, emotions flooding through him for the four he'd come so far with. We'll fight for everyone, this time. "I am now."
He stood a pace behind her, at the base of the stairs. He'd always been behind her, it seemed, never quite fast enough or brave enough to keep up, to stand alongside her instead. Even now, when they'd made it so far, he still didn't have the courage to take that step forward. He'd already held everyone back with his weakness; he didn't want to hold her back with his selfishness, too.
Tsuyoshi slid his arm around Nakai's waist, leaning against his side. He looked like the man Tsuyoshi had first met, the day he'd gone from a world of sun and flowers to one in which he'd felt useless and weak. He'd pushed himself to keep up, to be as strong and brave as everyone around him-- but he'd realized, in the end, that there was something more important he could do.
We'll stand together, all of us as one. He pressed a kiss to Nakai's cheek, earning a blush and a warm look. "I'll stay by your side, no matter what."
She gazed up at the staircase, at the door at the top, and felt nothing but dread. There was no reason they wouldn't win. But winning wasn't the end of things; with the fall of one leader, another had to step into place. Someone people would follow, someone people saw as strong. The thought made her tired, alone. If there was someone with her, alongside her-- but she'd pushed him away, pushed everyone away, and it was too late to look back now.
Nakai looked up at the door, a flat black rectangle in an expanse of blank grey. Once the sight might have inspired fear, wondering what the Tower was going to take away this time. But now Tsuyoshi was here with him, Shingo and Kimura and Goro standing alongside him, people who had given him reason to fight the Tower, reason to overcome his fear and reach out. He wasn't the Tower, and he wasn't going to let the Tower take anything away.
We will not give in, he told that last whisper of doubt inside him, and rested his hand on Tsuyoshi's back, leaning into the younger man's touch. "Thank you."
He glanced at the others, and then back to Tsuyoshi, brow furrowing slightly. "We have to return the memories we have to them-- the Five Stars. There's a chance--" He hesitated, studying Tsuyoshi's face like it might be the last time it would look that way. "We might forget."
"How we feel?" Tsuyoshi frowned, momentarily silent in thought. Then: "I won't." He looked at Nakai, his expression serious. "I love the Nakai I know now. Not because of the Five Stars. I won't forget that, because that's me."
Nakai stared at him for a moment longer, the words sinking in, and then swept both arms around him. "I won't-- I won't, either," he told Tsuyoshi's neck, pressed tightly against him. "It's my heart that loves you, isn't it? I thought I might not have one, but-- but I couldn't have rescued you if I didn't." He pulled back again to meet Tsuyoshi's gaze. "So I won't forget you, either. Ever."
Shingo and Kimura exchanged a glance, first with each other, then to Goro. "They're better at this than we are," Shingo said, and then Kimura was kissing him, pulling Goro into both of their arms. "I'm done forgetting," Goro murmured, leaning his head on Shingo's shoulder. "Too many good things to remember now."
"Agreed." Kimura touched Goro's cheek, his hand drifting from there to the scar on Shingo's neck. "Too many important things."
Shingo ran his fingers through Goro's hair, smiling at Kimura warmly. "Guess I'd better remember, then. Someone's gotta keep you two from doing any more crazy death-defying stunts." He gave them both a poke in the side.
They faced each other again, bracing themselves for the battle ahead. "Ready?" Shingo asked, securing his goggles in his hair.
Nakai drew the knife from his pocket, studying the blade, the hilt, the hand that held it. Then, he set it down on the floor, behind him. "Ready," he answered, and took Tsuyoshi's hand.
Together, they climbed the staircase, and opened the door.