voidtreckerexpress | Leap of Faith [closed]

Entry tags:

Leap of Faith [closed]

Who: Little One, Devero, Koumyou Sanzo
Where: Carriage N meeting room A
When: Month Orchestra, day 2
What: A long awaited talk
Warnings: There will be talk of death, violence, child assassins, child death and probably other difficult subjects here.

She is very nervous. Even with Devero's help she knows that this was going to be a very difficult meeting to have but she knows it is important. She has thought a lot about Sanzo and his offer and Diagad and what it all meant. Her mind never sits still about it but all that had happened was that her and Sanzo had not really spoken for months, which was stupid. Before all this Sanzo was someone she liked a lot.

She still likes him a lot. That's the problem. She has put a lot of thought into this meeting as well. She had bought honey cakes and baklava from the train shop and has also made a huge pot of tea. She picked some things up from being bonded to Mami at least, difficult conversations were always better with tea and cake.

She's also hired one of the meeting rooms. They are soundproof, they only let the people in who are registered there. It's as much privacy as she can manage on this train.

As for what she is going to say, she's barely slept the last few nights thinking about it. She likes Sanzo. She wants him to like her. She wants Devero to like her too. But... He had said she could decide what she was to him and that's a big choice to make.

She's not good with family. She only ever had her sister and...

Well that's the whole problem. She's hidden her true self since stepping onto the train and it's exhausting. But she can't let herself care for these people and lie to them. Not because lying was bad. She's not that far fallen.

But because if they find out, it will be bad. And she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to open her heart for someone to drive a dagger into it.

So she will tell them. Now. So they know. If they take it badly. Well that could ruin everything but... Better to know now than wait until the next time their mind are shared or they walk each others dreams or any of the other things that could burst open her whole life here.

She sits. Waiting. Trying not to look like a little girls whose whole world could come crashing down around her ears.

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She stands formally when the two enter the room. Best behaviour. She's even dressed in her spider spun tunic, which still feels more natural in style than the hoodie and cargo pants she usually wears on the train.

"Hello Sanzo. Hello Devero." She smiled at them both, hoping it hid her nerves. "Would you be liking some tea?"

She gestured at the table at the snacks and tea pot there.

"Hey, kiddo. I would love some tea, thank you," Devero says, returning her smile with that easy warmth of his. He's feeling some nerves himself, but making a distinct effort to keep them under control. After all, he's supposed to be the emotions guy here, isn't he?

He gives Koumyou's hand still in his a squeeze, meeting the priest's eyes for a moment, then releases it to take a seat.

Koumyou... carefully, a little slower than normal, tucks his hands into his opposite sleeves like he likes to do. He moves further into the room, coming to stand near Devero's seat, but stays standing himself.

"Perhaps in a bit," he says of tea. A beat goes by, and then he asks, "You've thought about what I asked you?"

She stays standing as well though she does pour some tea for Devero, carefully so not to spill before pushing it over the table to him with a nod.

Sanzo doesn't want tea, he wants answers and she draws herself up, fighting down nerves. They would do her no good here.

She's tempted to retreat into the emptiness, to make all of this easier. But for now she stays out, she could control her emotions without it.

"I did be thinking about it. I did be thinking a lot."

He nods as he accepts the cup, but doesn't actually drinking from it. He's focused instead on his Sanzo, already in orbit with his hands hidden away, and a little girl who shouldn't have to ask an authority figure if he will parent her.

He sits back a little, looking between Koumyou and Buttercup before prompting her, "Will you tell us what you've been thinking about?"

But Devero had let it spill that Buttercup wasn't sure Koumyou even wanted to talk to her anymore, so the priest says gently, "I know how hard choices are to make when you've never had them before. I didn't want to influence you in any direction, good or bad."

So, with that said, he nods over at Devero to put the big guy's question back into focus.

She doesn't pour any tea for herself, stays standing, tense and wary. Her eyes on both of them. Devero spoke first. It was good that he was here, he could speak to Sanzo in a way she couldn't.

Even if Sanzo spoke, about how he didn't want to influence her choice, to good or bad. As if that wasn't the problem. She doesn't know what the correct answer is. How could she choose with just her own wishes?

She sighed, a very deep sigh. It was a lot, all this thinking. "You do be being right, I did no never really be needing to be choosing before." She tilted her head. "I did be thinking. I did no be telling you a lot of things and I do no be being the only person who do be needing to be choosing here."

After all what would choosing do if he decided she was despicable? She took a breath, gathering all of her courage. "Will you be listening?"

Well, this question, at least, has an easy answer. Devero glances back at Koumyou for a moment before returning his dark eyes to Buttercup. "Of course we will," he answers for them both.

Koumyou takes his hands from his sleeves and walks to the table, reaching for the tea pot. He pours first one and then another cup of tea, pushes one toward Buttercup, and then sits down beside Devero with his.

He folds his bony hands around his cup, needing the warmth, and inclines his head for a moment in invitation to proceed.

"We'll listen."

She looked down at the cup of tea and then, once Sanzo had sat down next to Devero, sits herself. She looked at the tea for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

"In my world there do be being six gods. But only five do be being publicly worshipped. They do be being the Bright gods. The sixth do be being the shadow god, the god of chaos. That do be being who I do be serving."

All her life, from her earliest memory this had been her biggest secret. Something she could not tell, never tell to anyone who did not also serve. Many things were forgivable in the eyes of those who followed the Bright god but they would not spare a servant of chaos. Not ever a child.

And yet here she was, spilling it out of her mouth to two people who were undeniably good. Maybe not in all their actions. But in their hearts, their souls belonged to the good of their world. And at least one of them held power enough to kill her where she sat.

Yet now the first truth has tumbled from her the rest can only follow. Because there is no half measures in this. She is not ashamed of who she is, of what she is, of what she has done. She's scared. But she was not brought up to be a coward. "I did be serving Chaos all my life. Me and my sister. We did be training all our lives, we did be learning to be sneaking, to be spying and to be killing."

Her voice is still even, purposefully so. As if she were talking about breakfast. "We did be bringing chaos and fear, we did be swearing an oath to do so." And it was not one she could break, even if truthfully she has not been a good servant of chaos this last year. She barely even prays any more. It feels almost useless, when she's on a train hurtling through a void. When she doesn't know when she might be able to go home.

She almost stops there. She's still looking at her tea cup. She can't see their faces. But all of that doesn't really... It doesn't say truly why she is hesitant. Why she finds it so hard to make this choice, to voice what she feels.

"My sister did be being just like me. The word do be being twins, we did be looking the same but she did be being cooler I do be thinking. We did be learning together and we did be working together but she... I do no even be knowing what did be happening but she did be failing. She did be disobeying."

No. She can't do this. Not like this. She closed her eyes and drew the emptiness around her. The feelings locked out. Armour against the world, against herself and the feelings that bubbled up even thinking about this.

She was very still, almost unnaturally so and her voice was devoid of any emotion at all when she spoke. "They did be telling me to be ending her. So I did be. Because I do be obeying."

And if it came down to it she would kill anyone on this train, if it was a case of them and her god, her beliefs, her purpose.

This was where they differed, Sanzo and her. He had died for his family she had killed her own.

Devero's soul undeniably belongs to the good of his world, that virtue evident here and now in the intent way he listens to her speak, and the developing horror in his heart-- and on his face-- as she lays out the truth of who she is.

Oh, he'd suspected she was one of the many people on the train who'd had an awful childhood. How could she not be, when she doesn't even have a name on the passenger roster? When the very first time he met her she was carrying a gun, a gun he's since seen her diligently learning to properly clean and maintain under the tutelage of the priest at his side? A gun that he has no doubt she knows how to use, even if he's never seen her do so.

His heart breaks in his chest when she goes so preternaturally still, her affect flat as she tells them so plainly that she killed her twin sister at the behest of the authority figures in her life who told her she had to.

His heart breaks, and as happens so often when someone's history cracks that soft core inside him open, hot righteous fury spills out through the gap.

"Because of a god," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Because of the followers of some-- some vice-ridden, power-abusing cosmic jackass gave you no choice but to obey, because you're a child--!"

He cuts himself off, fisting his hands on the table so tight that the pristine skin across his knuckles goes white, lest he give in to his own vice-ridden temper and try to hit something. "Rust and ruin, I hate gods!"

Koumyou reaches over and covers some of those white knuckles with one slender, tea-warmed hand. He's been calm through-out Buttercup's words, quietly noting the shift in demeanor that he would associate with muichimotsu.

He lets Dev say his piece, waits a moment, and then calmly speaks up.

"I understand sacrifice for duty, perhaps better than most. I watched every friend I'd ever had on Earth die gruesome deaths in front of me, and I didn't lift a finger because it was my duty to not.

"I may not have personally killed them, but I trained the young man who killed Goudai Sanzo before my eyes for a full year after the murder. Because I was told to. Because it was my duty."

He glances over at Devero, and adds to them both, "Some worlds are just... like that."

Her head snapped up at Devero's words, at the anger in his voice. She was expecting it of course. She was expecting fury from both of them. She would fight them both if it came to it. Fight them and lose because they were bigger, stronger, more powerful than her. But she would not go down without a fight.

What she would do later, when the train dragged her back into life was not something she had planned for. One step at a time. Devero was angry, but at the gods. Such blasphemy. She's still in the emptiness but cold anger joins the rest of her emotions, ready to flood her the moment she lets down her shield.

Sanzo speaks though and he is calm. Not angry. Or hiding it well. He understands. Sacrifice for duty. He had allowed death because it was his duty. He had trained a killer. Because he had to.

She had not known those things. She would not have guessed those things and she looks at him, eyes blank, glancing at Devero. Some worlds were like that.

Some people were like this.

"And it's bullshit!" Devero snaps; under Koumyou's hand, his fist trembles.

But then he makes an effort to collect himself. One thing he's learned in his almost-six months on the train is that he comes from a world of immense privilege, and that his impotent anger that other people don't helps no one. He closes his eyes and focuses, the way Koumyou's taught him, getting himself back under a semblance of control.

He glances over at Koumyou, covering his Sanzo's hand on his with his other hand, and lets out a long breath.

"Some worlds are just like that," he repeats. He returns his regard to Buttercup. His voice is much softer as he says. "You did what you had to do to survive, Buttercup. Thank you for telling us; I know it must be scary for you."

Koumyou gives Devero's lower hand a squeeze, but his gaze stays on Buttercup. Just... assessing the quietness she's donned like a shroud. Or a mask, with those blank eyes.

Hiding inside her own skin. Some sort of meditation?

After a moment, he takes his hand back so that he can reach up his sleeve for his long pipe and a bit of tobacco.

Preparing the bowl as he speaks, he voices another thought.

"You know, I myself have killed... easily thousands. Mostly strangers, mostly people who had it coming. But not all, I think. Some were just in my way."

Pipe set up, he lights it with a tap of a fingertip and lifts it to take a drag.

"And I really don't feel much of anything about that."

Her attention doesn't waver, Devero's anger, the way Sanzo reaches into his sleeve. She is prepared, ready if he draws a weapon but instead he brings out a pipe.

But his words. A threat? An understanding? Both?

She tilted her head, eyes still blank. "You did be killing for your god? They do be commanding it?."

If he could feel not much at all about it that was probably a good thing. She didn't feel much about killing. Pride often, the satisfaction of a job well done. The rush of adrenaline.

Killing her sister had been different in every way it possibly could be.

Devero reaches for his cup, wrapping his hands around it like he needs a physical anchor for his temper. He badly wants to interject his conclusions about why Koumyou cares so little about the deaths he's caused, but he doesn't. That's not what this meeting is about-- it's about Koumyou and Buttercup figuring out if they want to commit to each other.

So he takes a deep breath and keeps his peace, letting his Sanzo speak.

"Oh, no, Buddhism forbids killing," Koumyou smiles serenely, "but a Sanzo's primary purpose is to protect a sutra. Two, in my case. Protect it from the world, and the world from the sutra. Despite what everyone outside of the rank seems to believe, we don't lecture our would-be assassins to death."

A pause, he takes a deep drag of his pipe.

"...And that does, very rarely, include the Gods themselves."

Very, very rarely. But it's been known to happen.

"I'm telling you this to say that I understand the kind of situation you were in. And even, somewhat, the kind of situation you were raised up in. I have never treated you like a baby, because you're very near the age Kouryuu was when I died and he succeeded me."

Buttercup is young, a kid, but they both come from worlds where that doesn't automatically mean helpless or sheltered.

(A ten-year-old Houmei had damn near murdered Devero in one swift move, after all.)

It was true. He hadn't ever treated her like a baby. That's why she liked him in the first place. His religion forbade killing yet he killed for it anyways? That was strange.

Sanzo is always a mystery. Devero is easier to understand and he is angry. But not at her. Not really. She doesn't think.

She closed her eyes, dropped the emptiness and took a moment as the feelings flooded back into her. The fear was less now, but she's confused, unsure.

"You do no be hating me?"

"Of course not!" Devero says immediately (and a little overloudly). He closes his eyes to recollect himself, then continues, "Buttercup, what you did... you didn't have a choice. Not really. If there's anyone to hate, it's the adults who-- made you do what you did."

(In that hesitation is a world of stronger language, of that volatile and impotent fury that he's controlling himself from expressing again.)

"I could no more hate you than I could hate Koumyou for almost killing me when he was a little boy for a day," he adds, looking sidelong at the priest beside him.

Or for the thousands of people that Koumyou has killed in all the years of his torturously hard life, he doesn't explicitly say. But it's there anyway, unspoken but present.

"Of course not," Koumyou agrees, if a lot less vehemently. "I'm nowhere near that big of a hypocrite. I'm still perfectly willing to be your adoptive father, if you want one. Or just your friend. Or nothing at all."

That was the choice he'd given her after Diagad, if in vaguer terms. He'd liked having his kids in that illusion. Both of them.

"I admit I would have hesitated before Diagad, but only because I didn't want to... basically replace Kouryuu? But he liked you enough that he told me I'd better look out for you, if not in those exact words. Something-something 'the little twerp'."

Which he'd probably called her in the illusion, but had seen no reason to stop once he was out. Permission given to his father from multiple angles, for someone fluent in Kouryuu-ese. Which, of course, he very much was.

Edited 2021-11-14 12:58 (UTC)

She looked between them both. They didn't hate her. Strange. Weird. They should. But they didn't. She was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She tilted her head as he explained how he would not want to replace Kouryuu but that Kouyruu had wanted him to look after her.

She wrinkled her nose. "He did be being the twerp." It's fond, she had liked him. She missed him. Even if she had never really gotten to know the real him.

"I would no want to be replacing him. I can no be being him. But I did no never be having a father. I do no be knowing where me and my sister came from but we do no be having parents."

So she had no one to replace.

"I know what that's like," Devero says softly. "My parents never claimed me. They wouldn't even sign the info release that would let me know who they were. They didn't want anything to do with me."

As old as this wound is, it still hurts, and he has to look away for a moment. But then he looks back, from Buttercup to Koumyou and then back to Buttercup.

"I may have never had a dad," he says, "but I still know Koumyou's an excellent one." And then his expression goes a little sharp and a little teasing. "You wouldn't have fought me so hard over the illusion if that wasn't the case, hm?"

"And I was abandoned at a temple as an infant," Koumyou chimes in, to commiserate. Just a bunch of people with unknown blood relatives in here. Probably not that uncommon on the train, though.

He shoots Devero a sideways glance at the bit about the quality of his parenting, and demurs, "Well, I don't know about that. But that's why there's so many options for this choice."

The priest wouldn't have found it strange if dealing with him would just be too strange, after all that. He's never had a high opinion of his value outside of murder. Koumyou's very good at murder.

Neither of them knew their parents either. Both had been abandoned. She had no idea if her parents had abandoned her. Maybe. There were plenty of abandoned children in Gauig. She had no idea how her and her sister had come to be at the inn. She had never asked.

And Devero was right about one thing. If Koumyou wasn't so great it wouldn't have been so hard to throw away the illusion of a life as his daughter.

"I do be knowing about it." She told him. "You did be being good at it. Kouyruu did be thinking so."

He had stuck around, even after he had stopped believing the illusion.

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