Chapter Text
Smoke fell out his mouth in lazy wisps, too tired to even gather the bare minimum amount of energy required to properly blow out. Still, a faint and wry grin finding home on Gregor’s face, it was the kind of exhaustion that only came from a job done well, so things could’ve definitely been worse. The new Mirror Dungeons were well and then some to get through, especially when living the life of that damned Priest — Gregor’s mouth always ached long after the sound of shattering glass announced his return to normal, but at least he’d take the lingering constrictions of guilt and impression of iron on his tongue over having to wear the G Corp. soldier Identity any day.
But for all of their collective complaints, there was no denying the results. Stronger enemies meant they all had to get stronger and smarter if they wanted to keep up. Not to mention how the manager seemed to be taking to storm the new change to what had once been a fairly mundane — as mundane as throwing themselves against enemies until one of them broke could be — routine.
None of that meant he wouldn’t take his sweet, sweet time recovering from the experience though, his personal feelings notwithstanding. He felt like his whole body had been submerged in water just shy of boiling for an extended period of time, the manager might’ve been able to get rid of every trace of the Priest’s self-flagellation, but his body still remembered the ghost of those wounds.
Seemed like he wasn’t the only one who was feeling it. A handful of the other Sinner had left to their rooms the moment Dante had dismissed them with their whole ‘work’s over’ spiel alongside Frau Faust, but more of them than he would’ve expected had decided to join him in winding down within the main area of the bus, unable to be bothered with the short trek required to their respective lodgings.
He could spot Rodion talking to Sinclair, poor kid looked pale as a ghost, though Gregor wasn’t sure if it was more because of whatever got Rodya’s face in a grin or because of the time spent in that N Corp. Identity. Heathcliff and Hong Lu were arguing about something or another — or rather, Heathcliff was arguing to the ever-placid Hong Lu. Hardly an unfamiliar sight, but the addition of Meursault into the mix did have him raising a brow.
Well, it wouldn’t be taking any of them long before they recovered enough to feel all their limbs again and fully call it quits for the day, vacating the actual bus area of Mephi save for whoever had found themselves on night watch, which… Ah, right. It’d be Meursault’s turn, that explained why the big guy was still around. With a stifled yawn, Gregor stretched out some of the soreness in his muscles, only to end up wincing at the loud crackling sound that followed. It felt as though the severity of it changed from day to day, but at the rest seemed to have already gotten used to it.
At least, that was what he chose to believe. Nobody commented on it, and if any of them were staring, well. Gregor conveniently couldn’t see any of them with his eyes locked towards the front of the bus, his gaze ending up falling on the back of the manager’s head in his efforts of staying casual.
Dante was usually the last person to retire if they weren’t on night watch, which… huh, thinking about it, it was usually Dante, wasn’t it. They’d mentioned something about not needing to sleep at some point, didn’t they? Whatever the case, he was used to the sight of his manager at this point.
However, what was surprising was seeing the way Dante appeared to be staring intently at the man on the other side of the bus, just a seat ahead of them. Gregor wasn’t really sure for how long the manager had been staring at their guide like that, but he was startled when they suddenly got up from their seat – as if they’d been debating with themselves about it – and walked towards Vergilius with a determined gait that, really, didn’t suit the four steps it took to get there.
It did catch his curiosity, poking through the comfortable haze that’d been settling in his mind and serving as a decent distraction from the unsettling shifting beneath his skin. Careful to not be too obvious about it, he took another drag from his cigarette and leaned in just a touch closer as Dante stopped right next to the guide, standing closer to Vergilius than any other Sinner would have dared.
< Vergilius. > Dante’s tone was resolute, though their tone was quieter than norm, as if they were seeking the illusion of privacy upon a crowded (enough) bus. They paused for a moment, as if they weren’t sure how they wanted to phrase whatever it was they hoped to ask, before letting out a few bell-like sounds, kind of like they were clearing their throat, < Could we, er, continue our discussion from our last consultation…? There were some more things I wanted to ask you about. >
The guide let out a barely audible sigh at Dante’s presence, more of an exhale frankly, as he spared their manager a brief glance before returning his attention to whatever papers were attached to his clipboard. Probably one of their reports or some random company business, if Gregor had to guess.
Vergilius’ lack of a reply was strange for the brief moment Gregor forgot that, right. The guide couldn’t understand Dante, could he?
It checked out, he knew, but sometimes it was easy to forget that only himself and the other eleven Sinners could understand a word out of Dante’s mouth— Dante’s clock. All of them could only hear Dante’s ticking and chimes, but they just… made sense. As if they all understood a language only their manager knew how to speak.
Lost in his musings, Gregor missed some of the one-sided conversation, but it didn’t seem to have gotten anywhere significant by the time his focus returned to them.
< —during today’s Mirror Dungeon run. It went… well. Very well. But I’m... wondering about your opinions regarding specific E.G.O. gifts I’ve come across— things that would only serve for these expeditions, so it wouldn’t apply to retrieving Golden Boughs. I’ve already listed out everything out and have everything prepared. >
“Hm…” their guide dragged out the hum, his head turning back towards Dante and from where Gregor was sitting, he could catch the faint shape of a smirk on Vergilius’ face, “You’ve been standing there for quite some time. Are you perhaps feeling unwell, executive manager?”
Gregor hissed quietly in sympathy as he saw Dante grow a touch more tense at their guide’s mockery, yet their shoulders straightened out with determination. Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure why Dante didn’t just go get Faust — or hell, any one of them — for translations as they usually did when they needed to talk to Vergilius. The miscommunication had to be one hell of a pain to deal with.
< I know you can at least understand when I’m talking, > their tone a bit chastising. Must at least be nice to be able to talk back to your superiors without having to worry about any repercussions. Wasn’t as if any of the Sinners would ever snitch on them either.
“I don’t believe I would need to remind you that all I can hear is ticking?”
Gregor blinked and. No, yeah. Vergilius was definitely smirking as he said that. It was even in his tone. The guide had to be messing with the manager at this point, and he was having fun with it too.
“I suggest you find a better way to tell me what you’re looking for, unless you’re out here, ticking a storm, just for some company?”
< Vergilius— > the name fell out of Dante a whistle, a trace of exasperation in their tone as they took a hand out of their pockets and reached out towards the guide.
Mildly alarmed, Gregor glanced towards the rest of the Sinners only to find no one else was paying any attention. Great. That meant that Gregor would be the only one who would get to witness their manager’s untimely demise, which would also mean that it would be his fault.
“Ah! You can’t understand them, right?” he had to interrupt before things could take a turn for the worse, forcing cheer into his voice as he tried to keep himself casual, as if he hadn’t been eavesdropping the entire time.
Dante flinched back as if they’d been burned at the sound of his voice, quickly scrambling to readjust their tie in a peculiar nervous action as they turned towards him. Vergilius was slower to give Gregor his attention, gaze remaining fixed on the manager in unreadable expression before he relented and looked over at him with a familiar look of indifference, smirk long gone.
Neither of them spoke, waiting for him to continue. The entire situation was becoming increasingly strange, but it was too late to turn back now.
“Manager bud’s been asking something regarding your opinions about some Mirror Dungeon things. Said you two talked about it in your last consultation, yeah? Something about, uh, picking things up from where you last left off.”
They continued to stare at him in silence and, okay something was definitely off, but neither of them seemed to acknowledge it so he wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up, choosing instead to shoot Dante an awkward thumbs up and grin.
“...Is that so,” Vergilius eventually said, breaking the lull in conversation with a voice that neared boredom, yet held a steely undertone that had Gregor on alert, “From where we left off, hah?”
Dante let out a short whistle, appearing oddly… were they flustered?
No. They were just nervous. All of them had grown considerably fonder of Vergilius over the course of their time spent travelling together, but it was difficult to forget the fact that the guide was, in fact, the Red Gaze.
< Well… I didn’t say it exactly like that— >
“Ahah… there’s a look I recognize,” the guide cut them off, standing up with a faint smile returning to his face. The single action briefly drew the attention of the other sinners, silence falling, before they all – save for Gregor – returned to their own conversations.
“Well then, executive manager,” Vergilius paid the Sinners no mind, loosely gesturing towards the Backdoor instead before walking towards it and – presumably – his office.
“Er… good luck, manager bud! Have a good night and, uh, good work today!” Gregor called out after Dante as they scrambled after Vergilius. He was still baffled over the whole situation, but ultimately decided it’d be best to shrug it off.
Wasn’t exactly as if he had any rights to call something strange, the shifting and crackling beneath his skin, discomfort and traces of disgust at the sensation and the sounds vying for his sanity the longer he ignored it, a vivid reminder of that fact. It’d be fine. The Golden Bough kept it in check, after all. It would be fine.
But he’d take his thoughts beginning to spiral down that path as a sign for him to retire for the night. It wasn’t as if the suffocating smoke in his room was going to leave anytime soon, might as well start to get comfortable. Maybe he’d even manage to get a few hours of sleep.
Yet the second Gregor had managed to pull himself out of his seat, Rodion abruptly materialized right next to him with a sly grin that promised mischief.
“Ah shit—!” he swore, barely catching his cigarette after it’d jerked out of his startled hands. It took him a moment to recover enough to keep talking, heart pounding in his chest. Someone as big as Rodion really shouldn’t be able to be so damn quiet, “Haah… Come on, Rodya. I’m getting too old for that.”
“Aw, c’mon Greg, you know saying those kinds of things will only make them true,” she teased, brushing off his complaints with practiced ease as she plopped herself down in the manager’s usual seat in front of him. Her gaze moved past him and towards the Backdoor with curiosity, “Anyway, so, our dear guide’s taking Dante back to his office, huh~?”
That was… also unexpected. He hadn’t been expecting her to be interested in that, but whatever the reason, Gregor nodded with a shrug and sat back down as well. If he tried going to his room now, Rodion would just stop him. So much for his plans of sleep.
“Yeah, he did. I mean it isn't exactly as if either of them were being quiet about it, eh?” he chuckled, determined to get as much out of his cigarette as he could before he’d inevitably have to replace it with another, “Probably won’t be seeing either of them until tomorrow.”
“I guess that means we’re fully free for the day, huh?” Rodion’s grin widened as she turned towards the other remaining Sinners, her voice raising as she dragged them all into the conversation, “If Dante’s taking up all of Verg’s attention, it means we’re free from supervision~ We could all have some actual fun for once.”
The thought of Rodion’s definition of fun — alcohol, snacks, and gambling if he had to guess — only served to make his already tired body protest louder. Still, her good mood was just infectious enough to quiet Gregor’s complaints.
“You know,” he commented offhandedly, amusement faint in his tone as the thought fleetingly crossed his mind, his attention turning more towards whether he’d be able to grab a bite to eat – maybe he should ask Rodion about it – before passing out, “With how often manager bud visits the guide these days, kind of makes you wonder what they’re always getting up to, huh?”
“I know, right?!” Rodion blurted, the swiftness of her response taking him off guard, though she paid no mind to his alarm as she went on a small rant, “It’s like, I’m not saying that it’s, well. Weird or anything. I mean, Dante has consultations with us all the time, and Verg does do them every now and then. But… it’s Dante, you know? And Vergilius. Our guide can’t even understand them, and! I’ve asked Faust before about it and no, she doesn’t go with them. So, what kind of conversations could they possibly have that often for that long?”
Those… were good points. Points Gregor had been avoiding trying to think about, frankly. But… it was a bit reassuring to know he hadn’t been the only one questioning it.
“Eh.. I dunno,” he eventually said with a slight shrug, words holding false confidence, “They probably just, do a nod-shake type system, or they could just write out their thoughts or something, no?”
“Maybe they’re talking about us?” Hong Lu’s sudden interjection was spoken directly into his ear from behind, causing him to jump and swear loudly. Slumping further into his chair as he dug his palm against his eyes, biting down on the spike of irritation that’d followed.
“Going have to start putting bells on you guys at this rate,” he muttered under his breath, neither of them paying him any mind as they turned towards each other.
“I mean, probably?” Rodion hummed, a slight frown on her face as she thought about it, “Ah… do you think they’re talking about me? They better be saying nice things, I haven’t been working my ass off during those Mirror Dungeons only for them to talk badly behind my back,” she sighed, shaking the thoughts out of her head, “But, no. There’s gotta be more to it than that considering just how regularly Dante goes.”
“Does manager Dante really go that often…?” Sinclair piqued in, still sitting where he’d been following their conversation this entire time, hands fidgeting with his halberd. At least the color had returned to his face, Rodion must’ve ended up helping him out with that, “I mean… I don’t understand what could be so strange about it.”
“That often? Hey, don’t tell me I’m the only one who’s been noticing,” Rodion glanced between them all with wide eyes, “Dante goes to Vergie like, every other day!”
“W-Well, I haven’t… I haven’t been keeping track of it, but—!”
“Haah… blimey. You lot are way too damn loud,” Heathcliff’s annoyed hiss cut through Sinclair’s fumbling protests, he was glaring at them all from where he’d settled down on the seats. Still groggy, as if he’d somehow managed to have fallen asleep in the short time since his conversation with Hong Lu. With a yawn, Heathcliff waved his hand towards where Meursault was sitting with crossed arms, “Oi, Meur. How often does clockhead visit Vergilius?”
“The manager visits the guide’s office approximately twice per week, with additional instances occurring when Vergilius directly requests their presence or the manager has trouble with an issue,” Meursault replied immediately, his eyes closing in thought, “This invitation most often occurs between thirty minutes to an hour after the end of the work day, with exception taking place where the manager is the one to request a consultation with the guide directly after instead. Typically this situation happens after a particularly challenging event or encounter, such as today’s Parallel Superposition Mirror Dungeon run.”
Stunned silence followed Meursault’s droned observations, all of them staring at him in slight disbelief he seemed to have either not noticed or cared not for as he added on, almost as an afterthought.
“Their consultations have been noted to last from anywhere between two hours to the next morning.”
That final detail broke them out of their stupor with Rodion physically standing up at the revealed piece of information, shaking her head in disbelief as she processed the information.
“How did you- wait, did you say overnight?” she exclaimed, “Like. They… slept with each other?”
“As I have not been invited to them, I do not know the exact details of their consultations. Although it is possible that the manager has spent their time awake, as they do not require sleep in the same manner that we do.”
“Oh, but they do spend the night together?” Hong Lu hummed, his finger on his chin in thought with a small smile. He looked as if he was finding this all to be mildly amusing, but it was always tricky to tell with him, “Is that kind of behavior normal between people of this class? How fascinating.”
“Are you… sure, Meursault?” Sinclair interjected hesitantly, but Gregor was glad for it. Both because he could see the exact moment Rodion’s smile tensed — often the case with Hong Lu despite how well they could get along — and also because it meant that Gregor hadn’t been the one to ask it.
It wasn’t as if he thought any of them doubted Meursault, everyone knew the big guy was as reliable as they got, but… still. It was one hell of a thing to just drop,
“I have seen the manager exit the guide’s office in the morning at minimum ten minutes before the beginning of the work day,” Meursault’s tone and face both deadpan as always, “I have witnessed these instances during my time on night watch and from waking up at the time the company has assigned us to. In these moments, I have never seen the manager exiting before or entering after morning. It is the logical conclusion to say that they have stayed with the guide overnight.”
Suddenly, Gregor lost track of the conversation, sinking weight settling in his guts as memories he’d thought forgotten decided to make themselves known. Things he hadn’t thought twice about at the time, but now, in hindsight, with the whole discussion that’d been going on… but no, it was impossible. Unless? No, he’d just imagining things, right?
Vaguely, he registered that Rodion was still talking, and it looked like Heathcliff had gotten more involved as well, but Gregor could barely process a word they were saying as he fought to prevent dread and embarrassment from taking over him.
“Greg, honey,” the sudden snapping of fingers in front of his face dragged him out of his reflections. Rodion stared at him with a confused but concerned smile, “You look like you just swallowed a spider.”
A flesh spread across his neck as everyone’s eyes went to him. He… damn, he really didn’t want to bring up what he’d just remembered, not when it’d been a while and when he didn’t even know what had been going on for sure. But… pinned underneath the collective weight of five pairs of eyes, he let out a sigh of defeat.
“Heh… I was just thinking about this one time where… but, no,” Gregor muttered, more to himself than to the rest of them, “Nah, there’s no way. Manager bud was just talking about the Refraction Railway, you know? Complaining about how annoying things were with the whole, E.G.O. and corroding issue.”
“Stop faffing about and just spit it out already, will you?” Heathcliff groaned, he still looked like he could fall asleep at any second, but the conversation seemed to have caught his interest enough for him to have sat up, leaning against his bat, “Take a lesson from Meursault, and besides, I’d rather not have to think about that damn railway a second longer.”
Couldn’t argue with that, the Refraction Railways had been growing more and more tedious with each other. They’d already been hell and then some, even before they’d started throwing mirror versions of themselves against them, but the last few had earned more than their fair share of complaints.
“Well, remember that one time I went looking for manager bud? When Hong Lu lost his hand in that one kitchen accident?” Gregor glanced towards the sinner in question, but Hong Lu merely smiled in acknowledgment and stayed silent, “I, uh, might have forgotten to know on the guide’s door when I went to get the manager. You know, because I didn’t want Hong Lu to fully bleed out over the counter, so I didn’t really think much of it at the time, but… looking back on it. They’d been pretty, er, close to each other?” he paused, hesitation clear in his tone as he couldn’t fully mask his discomfort, “As in… Vergilius was standing and manager bud was, well. I think they were sitting on top of his desk, and Dante had- well, I don’t know, I had bigger concerns at the time, so…”
He wasn’t quite sure why he felt as defensive as he did about it, he knew he was likely just making a bigger deal out of things than he needed to but… the memory of Dante sitting on top of Vergilius’ desk, legs crossed, passionately ranting about the troubles they had to deal with because of the Envy pecc… the envy copies. The way Vergilius had been moving away from Dante at Gregor’s sudden entrance, as if the guide had almost been right on top of the manager. Or the way Dante’s tie, usually so neatly kept, had been loose around their neck-
Hah… Dammit, he should’ve never been the one to fetch Dante that day.
“No. Forget it, I’m just overthinking things, heh.”
Gregor tried to laugh it off, but it was too late to take back the implication of what he was saying, and he already knew he would live to regret it as a long pause followed his words. The Sinners made various expressions, mostly of disbelief, until Rodion broke the silence with a tentative chuckle.
“Ahah… I do remember, Verg was pretty furious with us after that incident. I mean, I thought it was because we’d managed to kill each other by pure accident for once, but…” she was unable to keep uncertainty out of her voice, “...He had been weirdly vindictive about it, huh? Didn’t buy me any snacks for like, days! Even though I was doing pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
“Following the incident, the manager displayed higher levels of agitation and tension for the rest of the evening in a manner that could be considered unusual, basing off the fact that we had already completed our daily tasks and the lack of further incident.”
“H-Hey, let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay?” Sinclair quickly said, slightly alarmed, as if he’d just begun to realize the direction the conversation had been going towards, “We don’t actually know anything, and it’s rude to just… speculate about these kinds of things. I mean, it’s our manager and Vergilius, of all people…”
“You’re going to go tell Ryoshu about all of this immediately, aren’t you?” Rodion teased, smirking in triumph at Sinclair’s flush and incomprehensible muttered defenses. Laughing him off, she looked towards the group with sudden determination in her eyes, smile sharpening, “Well, then. If we don’t know, all we have to do is find out, no~? Just gotta keep a close eye on the both of them and then get together to talk about our findings, easy as that.”
If Sinclair had begun to realize what was going on, then reality hit Gregor like a bus. They were all gossiping. Pure, unadulterated gossip about something that could very well have real consequences, considering who the gossip was about. And now, Rodion was asking them to take it even further, but he knew damn well that the look in her eyes said she wouldn’t be dissuaded and, frankly? Gregor no longer had the energy to even try and tackle that.
“Ah, hell. What’s the worst that could happen?” he sighed, lighting another cigarette in defeat. He could always try talking her down another day if it came to it.
“Count me out,” Heathcliff huffed, standing up with another jaw breaking yawn that infected both Gregor and Sinclair, each of them finally remembering how damn tired they’d all been and were, “Sounds like a quickfire way to get an angry guide on our case, but it’s your funeral.”
“Aw, boo. Learn to live a little, Heath! Just keep an eye out for me~ Maybe I’ll even share a snack or two with you, hm?”
Heathcliff only spared her a flipped bird over his shoulder as he grabbed his bat and left towards the Backdoor. The rest of them — bar Meursault — stared after him for a moment longer before deciding to follow, taking his departure as a cue for the rest of them to turn in for the night as well.
The conversation had died down, Rodion kept trying to prod them a bit further, but her attempts didn’t get much more than some exhausted mutters. The clearest words spoken were a series of routine ‘goodnight’ and ‘see you’ until it was just him and Rodion left. Yet, just as she was about to enter her own room, she turned around and looked at him with a playful smile.
“Ah, right. Gregor, seeing that you’re the one who caught our dearest manager and their dear guide together in the first place, I’m really counting on you to find out something big, m’kay? Cheers~!”
She gave him no time to answer or protest before slamming the door in his face, leaving Gregor alone and disgruntled. Standing in the hallway and taking in a deep drag of his cigarette as he tried to figure out how the hell half the Sinners had suddenly decided to… spy? On their manager?
Out of what? Boredom? A change of pace? Did none of them really have nothing better to do? Damn if Gregor knew, at the end of the day, whatever was going on — if anything was going on at all — between those two, it wasn’t any of his business. He’d seen firsthand during the war that sometimes there was no room for being picky when it came to comfort, who was he to judge?
But… he couldn’t deny he wasn’t a little bit curious. Guess it would mean he’d have to keep an eye on the manager… and the guide… whenever they were near each other.
...Shit.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?