Archive of Our Own

Walking through the darkness was slow going. Trying to follow a mental map, moving only by touch alone, it wasn’t something that could be rushed. But the longer Eito spent out in the open, the lower his chances of survival. He should’ve brought a cane.

He shouldn’t have left in the first place.

No. No. That wasn’t the right way to think. He didn’t want to be in the others’ way and if they didn’t want him around…then there was no point in him staying. He’d acted too late. Had done too much for Takumi and the others to forgive him. That was understandable. He didn’t forgive himself either.

Cheap nylon dug into his shoulder, that constant weight banging against his hip with every step. A reminder. Either a call to duty or Sirei’s last act of kindness born from his own guilt. Circular metal encapsulating the most dangerous ability the population of two planets had ever seen. That was a lot of responsibility to place in Eito’s sullied hands.

Turn left here. He shuffled his shoes over the cracked pavement, kicking small bits of debris as he walked, stones skidding off of metal and resounding with a soft clang. One hand had to be held out in front of him at all times to catch on buildings and find the path he needed to take. He’d already banged into two street poles because of his lack of forethought. That seemed to be his downfall lately, he should’ve prepared more tools to aid his blindness. His eye sockets ached.

He expected this, of course. He’d expected the others not to let him rejoin. He’d known—known with such certainty—that he’d have to leave Last Defense Academy. Even if…even if a little, tiny part of himself had hoped…

It’d been stupid. Naïve.

Nothing more than a candle’s flicker of hope quickly doused. It made sense. He didn’t blame the others. Not when he was the only one to blame.

Maybe…maybe in another universe, he’d learned the truth sooner. Maybe he’d see that his righteous eyes were nothing more than a glitch and he’d realize how beautiful his friends were. Maybe…he could’ve recognized Nozomi’s kindness, Takumi’s compassion, Hiruko’s perseverance, Gaku’s humor. He could’ve tried those disgusting looking concoctions the twins came up with and forced a thumbs up just to see Kako smile. He would’ve shared all his knowledge about dogs with Shouma, discussing breeds and shedding seasons and levels of cuteness. Dance at a festival with Yugamu, learn how to change a tire from Tsubasa, spar with Moko. If they’d known right from the beginning, he would’ve suffered through a movie for Darumi’s sake. He could’ve asked Kyoshika all about her hometown and weather Kurara’s insults just to be in her company. All of their friendship, so strong it was able to withstand war…

He wished to be a part of it, selfish as it was.

But this was the way time tumbled out. There was no point blaming Sirei for withholding the information, even if the thought did make him a little bitter. His brain had been built wrong but it was he who followed through on those actions. This was just—

The toe of his boot caught on a curved rock and Eito pitched forward, losing his balance. Arms pinwheeled through the air but it was useless. Asphalt crashed against his shoulder and chest, trapping his wrist beneath his body as he toppled over. Rock dug into flesh, splitting his palm as he tried to stop his fall. Slipping off his shoulder, the bag hit the ground with a loud thunk and Eito froze. Every muscle coiled wire tight. Nothing happened. Right…right, only hemoanima could activate it.

…He could just stay here. Lay on the ground in the middle of the ruins and wait for death to take him. The invaders might even make it quick. There wasn’t a point in continuing.

Eito pushed himself up, arm twinging with sharp pain.

“Right,” he whispered, licking his split lip. He must’ve bit it when he fell. “Keep walking.”

First though, he ran his hands over his face. His glasses were still in place, thank goodness. He checked the bag too but all his rations and the bomb were secure. Was he disappointed it hadn’t gone off? Ended his life because of some dumb mistake? No, no, he intended to see how the 100 days turned out. So with heavy feet, stuck in a world of nothingness, Eito trudged on.

--

Takumi couldn’t sleep. Sure, this was a common occurrence and even the cause of it was quite familiar, but for a different reason than usual. He couldn’t get Eito’s smile out of his head. Not the fake one he’d used as an act a hundred and eighty something days ago, but not the maniacal one full of hatred either. Instead, this one was full of acceptance and…sorrow.

Takumi groaned, flopping onto his other side. The bed creaked beneath him. When he closed his eyes though, he only saw empty sockets staring back at him. Cursing, he bolt upright, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

Was it right to let him go? Takumi hadn’t necessarily kicked him out, but by refusing him on the team, it wasn’t like he could stay either. But this was Eito he was talking about. The guy who’d ruined his previous timeline, then escaped in this one only to return to try and kill them all.

That was before he knew the truth.

That was before he joined them in the fight against V’ehxness even though they were trying to save humanity. That was before he gouged out his own eyes as a sign of truce. A way of telling them he wanted to work with them. That he wanted to be their friend. And Takumi had ignored it, falling back on his own worries and distrust.

Even Sirei seemed to trust him, adding him back into the Revive-o-Matic’s database. Lotta good it would do him out there.

Guilt ate at his mind like a termite, burrowing and festering, spreading cold shame through his chest. Eito had been a powerful fighter too, they could’ve used him on the team especially with how fearsome their final foe was. But was his strength worth the risk? Was he worth the risk?

Melancholy smile, hands clenched in loose fists, and nothing but a nod as he accepted Takumi’s decision.

Man, he needed some air. Takumi stood from bed, throwing on his hoodie and making his way to the door. Cool wind washed over his face as he stepped to the roof’s wall, berry black sky stretching endlessly above him. Purple flames flickered in the distance, constant and unforgettable. Only a little under twenty days before that fire would disappear forever. Takumi sighed.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” A soft voice called, followed by footsteps.

Tsubasa offered him a grim smile as she came to stand by his side, half lit violet. Takumi chuckled humorlessly.

“No, not tonight.”

She nodded, turning to stare out into the horizon. Moonlight bathed the world pale, painting an almost blue ethereal glow over the buildings. The color reminded him of eyes he’d never see again.

“You think he’s out there?” Tsubasa murmured.

“Probably.” He hoped so. “Eito wouldn’t go down easily.” But he’d lost his sight and immortality. If the invaders overwhelmed him…Takumi swallowed hard.

“Right. Right.” Tsubasa nodded like she could convince herself. “I just wonder, I mean. He took out his own eyes, Takumi. That was kind of a big gesture.”

Black sunglasses. Eyeballs crushed under a heel. Wavering hope leaking through that blank visage. The flicker of crushing disappointment covered by acceptance. Takumi closed his eyes. “I know.”

“Not that I’m second-guessing your decision.” She hesitated. Just a heartbeat’s moment. “I guess a part of me just thought we could be his friend.”

Friend. To be Eito’s friend. Takumi had known what that felt like, so so long ago. A time so distant he could barely remember it around spilt insults and swirling scythes. Trust had been so easy. So simple. He gave and gave, not caring how much Eito took, because there was comfort in that support. Someone he could lean back on, share his burdens with, and understand.

With a start, and a heavy heavy sinking of his heart, Takumi realized he wanted that Eito back. That he missed him with a fervor that left him light headed. It was easy to hide that desire with hatred, to pin the blame on a man with false memories. But if Eito had changed, if he’d really come to accept them, then could Takumi accept him too? Could they be more than rage and distrust?

“I’m just rambling, sorry—,”

“Me too,” Takumi whispered.

A sharp breeze carried his words off into the night, nothing more than a ghost of longing to be burned in the flames of war. Tsubasa’s wide eyes caught on his expression. Takumi almost wondered what she saw. If she really saw the confident leader he tried to be or just the boy who desperately wanted all his friends to live.

They didn’t speak again after that. Side by side, two lab-grown Futurans wondering how they’d survive this war and if the choices they’d made up until now would get them there. Being sure in his decisions had gotten Takumi to this point, but, briefly, he let regret flood him bitter and hot.

He couldn’t go back. Could he?

--

Second to Last Defense Academy was in better shape than Eito’d imagined. Sure, it reeked of smoke and the school yard was more than littered with debris, but the interior had survived in tip top condition. Once the invaders realized there was nothing in the defense room, they must’ve abandoned the place. It wasn’t worth their time any more than the surrounding skyscrapers.

The layout remained the same too, which made it possible for Eito to traverse it, right hand to the wall. He found the cafeteria quickly and…just sat down. Honestly, there was little he could do. Some of the school’s facilities may still be intact but he found he didn’t have the heart to check. He’d simply wait. Wait until the 100 days ended and he either burned with the Futurans or found himself face to face with his friends once more. Assuming they even came looking for him after the war ended. Assuming they even cared.

Fumbling through his bag, he retrieved one of the ration cans Sirei had packed him. His fingers brushed over the surface but it was impossible to read the label off touch alone. Almost like a surprise gift. Eito smiled, popping off the top with a metallic scraping. This at least could keep on his toes before he was more adjusted to his lack of sight.

Finding a fork was easy enough and he gingerly lifted whatever the can’s contents were. Ignoring the slight pain, Eito closed his lips around the utensil, only missing his mouth twice before scoring home. Hmm, pickled fish. Well, not his favorite but at least it provided nourishment. He ate the rest of the can slowly until he was only met with clinking when the fork touched the bottom.

Setting the can aside, fatigue washed heavy and cloying over him, limbs dropping to his side. He had walked quite a while. There was no harm in resting. Just for a little while. Still not used to the lack of closing his eyes, Eito pressed his back to the wall and waited. Emptied his mind so unconsciousness could take over and within minutes, sleep grabbed him.

Two days passed like this. Sleep, wake up, stumble to the bathroom, eat, sit by the wall. He wondered about taking a shower but reasoned there was no point. He’d recovered some more rations from the fridge too, just cans he could easily stack by his side. It was…boring mostly. But the thought of his friends kept him awake.

Lunch time.

Eito hovered his hand over his food collection. This one! Peeling it open, he took a bite.

Ah. Pickled fish again. That was the fourth time. As Gaku would say, what rotten luck.

Still, he wasn’t one to waste food so he choked it down, adding the can to his discarded collection. Wondered what Takumi was doing right now. Probably preparing for battle, that must be coming up soon. Eito didn’t quite remember what day it was, but V’ehxness was sure to close in.

Silence stalked through the room, ringing in his ears. Despite just having eaten, his stomach was hollow, chest missing something vital. A void, so desolate and empty, yawned inside of him as dark as the nothing replacing his vision. Just the cold abyss, plucking shriveled fingers over what resolve he had left. Crumbling, shattering resolve.

Eito reached towards his bag. The Undying Flame bomb. It…it would be instant. It would be painless. All that would remain of his miserable life would be ash, a pitiful reminder of the creature Eito Aotsuki had been.

His bare fingers skimmed over cold metal, blunt nails catching on an edge. A detonator. He took it into his palm, thumb hovering. It’d be so easy. Just press. Press down.

This had been one of the reasons Sirei’d given it to him, right? A mercy?

Put down the rabid dog no one could love. Death was preferable to this loneliness, wasn’t it? This endless agonizing waiting. Guilt surging bile-thick through his throat, the drowning shame of his past. Just—just press it.

Damn it, Eito, you coward! JUST FUCKING PRESS IT!

Hands trembling, chest heaving, sweat dripped down his cheek. It wasn’t like he’d lived much in the first place. He’d been born eighty something days ago into a war he had no choice in. His autonomy had never been his from the beginning, but this decision could be his own. Birth was not his right, but death could be. His “life” had been full of hatred and scheming and vile thoughts pumping venom into his veins.

It'd be like he never existed in the first place.

Maybe one of the others would remember him. A distant blurry memory in the vibrant ocean that was their lives, should they live through the war. Hey, remember that one guy? His name escapes me but he was one of us, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

Gasping, shuddering, desperate for air to fill his burning lungs, Eito shoved the detonator back into the bag. He couldn’t do it. Pathetic. Coward.

Even he feared death it seemed.

Made him quite the hypocrite, didn’t it?

Eito leaned against the wall, head tilted towards a ceiling he could not see and fell asleep once more.

--

Hiruko told him not to worry about it. Takemaru clapped him on the shoulder and offered some hardcore training, if just to take his mind off things. Shouma looked at him with pity.

Thousands of thoughts swirled in his mind, a tornado he couldn’t hope to tame. How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to look at himself in the mirror and tell himself he’d done the right thing. He’d walked past the courtyard four times since Eito left. He knew what he’d find, of course he did, but his feet wouldn’t stop. Takumi had to check. He didn’t know why he was disappointed to see the cage empty each time.

(This guilt would eat him alive, gnaw on his corpse and suck the marrow from his bones. He checked the cage again.)

Returning from upgrading his class weapon, Takumi strolled across the roof, footsteps echoing quietly on the concrete. He was about to enter his own room when a certain door down the line opened. One that hadn’t opened since Day 2.

Yugamu exited Eito’s dorm, quietly closing the door behind him. Takumi watched as the man sighed, taking one last look at the room, before leaving. Trouncing down the steps, Takumi hurried to catch up.

The former assassin’s undereye was bruise dark, expression tired. “Oh, Takumi. Nice to—,”

“What were you doing in Eito’s room?”

Yugamu paused, blinking. Takumi winced. He hadn’t meant for that to come out so accusingly.

“I mean—,”

“No no, I understand.” Yugamu offered him a quiet smile, so different from his usual. It fell quickly after. “I admit I’ve been a little conflicted recently. So I wanted to see if Eito’d left anything behind.”

Oh. Teeth bit into his fleshy heart. “Did you find anything?”

Yugamu shook his head. “Have you been in there before? It’s stark white, not a single touch of personality to be found. Just his glasses case. For a man so bright, it feels…lacking.”

Thinking on it, Takumi realized he hadn’t been in Eito’s room before. That was…wrong, wasn’t it? They’d been close, good friends in a timeline left behind, and yet…

Karua had been Takumi’s main focus the first 100 days and keeping everyone alive was his current, but, with startling clarity the way one would look upon the breaking dawn, he realized he’d never actually tried to get to know Eito. Not really. Not like he should’ve.

“I guess he didn’t have much of a chance to use it.” Takumi said, like that wasn’t also his fault. Granted, the alternate had been killing the man. So.

“I suppose.” Yugamu tilted his head. That one eye seemed to stare into Takumi’s soul, picking through him like a vulture interested in his intestines. Too knowing. It set his teeth on edge. Looking at the eyepatch wasn’t much better. “Do you think there’s a reason they gave him memories of death, Takumi?”

“Huh?”

“I was made into an assassin. Eito a serial killer. Was it really for their different perspectives?” Something dark crossed his face, casting a twisted smile in shadow. “Or did they just want to experiment on their newly created puppets. Did those scientists find it amusing? To give a guy such a passionless life full of assigned murders, oh I hate them.”

Darkness dropped as soon as it’d appeared. “But that guy decided he didn’t want a life like that anymore, going so far as to self-enucleation. I admire that, the resolve to choose who he wants to be.”

The (former?) assassin sighed, blue eye wistful. Clouds shifted overhead and golden light spilled like melted butter over the pavement. Yugamu, usually inky with his night black clothing, lit bright under the vibrant rays, blue hair glowing teal, pale skin warmed pink.

“Gives me a little hope for the rest of us, eh?” He grinned. Takumi appreciated his attempt to turn the mood around, squinting against the light. Reflections glinted off Yugamu’s piercings. If Eito could change, didn’t that give proof that it was possible for everyone? An assassin who didn’t want to kill, a short boy whose only friend was a dog, twins who had to fight tooth and nail to survive against a world that clearly didn’t want them. Fake memories formed who they were but that didn’t mean they couldn’t form new ones. Find a new path to pursue.

Takumi inhaled. Held it. Let it go and thought.

It’d been about three days since Eito left.

--

Eito woke to screaming. What an unpleasant way to meet the day. Groggy, back aching from being propped up against drywall, Eito scrambled to his feet and shuffled his way towards the noise. The screams were piercing, a ringing, horrible kind of screeching, but it didn’t sound familiar. He kept himself from frowning and walked faster.

Reaching the entrance, he heard multiple sets of footsteps pounding his way, the shrieking following like ghosts. If not Takumi and the others…then, Futurans? Eito called out, waving his arms, trying to convince a bunch of strangers that the strange man holed up in the ruins could be trusted. He was lucky it worked. Multiple feet lightly stepped into the school, scuffing over the tile and making it impossible to count how many were actually in the group. They retreated back to the cafeteria and he told them to pick whatever food they wanted from the refrigerator. His voice rang clear in the still air. No response. Silence. Deafened stillness smothering like a wet lead blanket until all he could hear was his own heartbeat. Never-ending suffocation.

Then a slight shuffle.

Eito drew a shaky breath. Not alone. Not alone again.

Cracks of cans, crinkling of plastic bags, the clink of metal on metal. He almost asked them to read one of the labels for him, as he reached for his own food, but didn’t want to break the fragile truce they’d built. The can popped open.

Pickled fish. This was going to be enough to make him lose it.

The rest of the day passed in soft breathing, whispers, and short naps. Eito told the Futurans—children, he learned as he listened to their high voices and light footsteps—where they could find a map if they happened to be lost in the ruins. The group dispersed throughout the academy to look for it. He hoped they found it. Instead of joining, because honestly what help would he be, Eito sat on the cold floor, last resort clutched to his chest like a worn teddy bear.

The children didn’t leave though. Not when they all curled up for the night, sleeping restlessly, tossing and turning and accidentally kicking Eito’s foot. Not when one of them sobbed for hours, keeping Eito awake, useless to do anything but listen. Another child shushed the crying one back to sleep and Eito followed. They stayed when dawn broke, when Eito’s heart lurched in his chest and he pitched forward with a gasp, lightning striking hot and cold through his body because—because they were still here, right?

One of the children asked if he was okay and he wrestled with his pounding heart until it calmed down, a pleasant smile on his face all the while.

It was during breakfast—his rations were getting low, he’d lost count of the days but this surely wouldn’t last until one hundred—that one of the kids approached him. A girl, short, with a trembling voice.

“What are you doing here?” Her question brought him pause, just for a moment. How was he to explain the whole terrible journey that led him to leaving the academy? Should he start with trying to kill Sirei? Or even before that, to a past he’d never experienced but one that solidified who he was, one that branded him a traitor? Or maybe the experiments, the tubes, the fake memories, the people he killed but not really, the humans he hated but loved, how he was born not even a year ago but had filled his life since with misery and destruction.

“I did something bad, so I had to leave.” Might as well go simple, he wasn’t sure this child could handle the entire mess that was this miserable man in front of her.

She shuffled, perhaps a nod.

“We did too.” Her voice dipped, solemn. “I-I don’t think we can go back.”

“Did you kill?” Eito tilted his head. “Or hurt anyone?”

“No!” The child gasped. “No, we…well, they always told us not to wander off into the ruins, we promised we wouldn’t. But…we got curious and then we got lost.” Her tone warbled and she sniffled.

“Now we can’t go back. Because we broke our promise.”

Eito hummed.

“I think you can. Forgiveness is always worth striving for. Taking accountability for what you did and finding ways to make up for it is essential to…keeping those bonds.” He swallowed. Forced through it. He might not have been able to find forgiveness, but that wasn’t the same for everyone. These were just kids, scared and confused, in a war-torn land. Surely they’d be forgiven in ways he hadn’t.

Then, in the smallest voice, barely a baby’s breath: “You really think so?”

Eito dug his nails into his palms until the pain caused his tears to recede.

“Of course! You should go back and apologize, you’ll always regret it if you don’t. Now.” He reached to the side, picking up a can. “Would you like some pickled fish?”

“Uhm, those are peaches.”

“Really?!”

--

Banging had been heard echoing from the Parking Lot for the last hour and Gaku, coward that he was, recruited Takumi to check it out instead of going himself, screaming about curses and ghosts. Y’know, like a coward. So Takumi sighed, dragged himself from bed, and went to investigate. He couldn’t have prepared for what he saw.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah!” Kako jumped, springing away from the school bus and tripping over her feet. “Takumi! This isn’t what it looks like!”

He rose an eyebrow, glanced at the bus (wholly intact) and then back at her. “I’m not even sure this looks like anything.”

“Oh good, because it’s not! Anything, that is.” Kako gingerly hopped over the miscellaneous toolboxes and tires scattering the floor, materials left over from Tsubasa’s repairs, until she stood in front of Takumi.

“I’m just…,” She seemed to battle with herself for a moment, nose scrunching. “Actually, there’s something you need to know.”

Doleful lilac eyes pinned him to the spot. They spun like comets, carrying the wisdom of the future despite never leaving the past. “Takumi. We’re not going to win the next battle.”

Takumi flinched. “What?”

Kako just nodded, folding her hands and looking to the bus. A certain disappointment washed over her. “I’ve seen it. V’ehxness and her troops. They wipe us out and she takes our cryptoglobin.”

“But that’s—,”

“I’ve seen you, Takumi.” She breathed deep. “I’ve seen you as one of those husks on the ground.”

Chills crawled up his spine, using his vertebrae as handholds. No. There’s no way. They don’t make it out of the next battle? Kako’s clairvoyance, while maybe a little hard to believe, had never steered them wrong, but that meant that they weren’t strong enough. Even with Sirei behind them, even with Shion’s support, they couldn’t beat her? Dread dripped familiar and wet over his shoulders.

More of his friends were going to die.

“Were you hoping to take the bus and leave?” He questioned instead of choking under the weight of Kako’s words.

“Oh. No, um.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I was hoping to go get Eito, but I don’t know how to drive. I can’t exactly reach the pedals either.”

Eito.

Takumi blinked. “Was he in your vision?”

Kako shook her head. “Not that I saw. So I thought maybe he’d turn the tide or help us in some way. And, I don’t know, I felt bad…watching him leave all alone.”

So some of the others had gone to watch Eito leave. Takumi’d stayed in his room, not having the heart to watch the man walk off to what was certainly his death. What right did Takumi have to call Gaku a coward when he buried his head in the sand, too afraid to face a familiar betrayal, too afraid to stare at the consequences of his own decision.

He sighed, looking to the bus. “We need him?”

And didn’t they?

They’d needed Eito to shove them towards a truth none of them wanted to acknowledge, mashing their faces into the burning hot grill until they saw reality through the grate. They’d needed him to question and goad and tug, stringing them (and himself) together like a child with a rattling pull-along toy. Seeped in his ignorance, Takumi would’ve continued blind in this war, without Eito.

Kako nodded. “It’d give us a better chance. Is it…too late?”

Guilt and hope guiding him, It…might not be.

--

“Mister! Mister, wake up!”

Screaming. Thudding footfalls. A hand, a too-small hand, shook Eito’s shoulder.

He jolted awake, nylon strap gripped tight between his aching fingers, the bomb a comforting weight in his lap.

“The invaders! They found us!” The same girl from before cried, voice breaking, soaked in pure terror. Other children sobbed, huddled in a group somewhere in front of him. Their voices—terrible, grating—overlapped, a muddled ocean of fear and confusion. It was heartbreaking. “What do we do?!”

Knees protesting, back tinging, Eito hauled himself to his feet. The bag clanked against his hip.

“We run.”

--

“You do realize if V’ehxness or Dahl’xia attacks while you’re gone, the academy is done for.” Hiruko glared down at their group, arms crossed. Everyone’d gathered in the Parking Lot, chiming in their own opinions about Takumi’s decision. Or rather, him rescinding his previous decision. It was wildly unproductive, until Hiruko shut them all up, stepping in front of Takumi to loom.

Tsubasa, Yugamu, and Kako stood behind him.

“Sirei said he went towards Second to Last, right? We’d get there and back before tomorrow.” Takumi argued.

“If he even made it there!” Gaku called, before Takemaru put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. Sighing, Ima stared at his sister.

“If Kako believes it’s for the best…,”

Moko nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort here, Takumi! Don’t even worry!”

Nozomi gave Takumi an encouraging smile while Shouma shuffled his feet. Their support spilt golden light through his ribs. But it wasn’t their final call.

Hiruko frowned, brow furrowed, but after a couple beats, she huffed and dropped her stance. “Well. I suppose you’ll be no use against V’ehxness if you’re distracted. Just…,”

For the first time in two timelines, a hint of fear shone through the woman’s impenetrable mask.

“Come back safe, Team Leader.”

So, to a chorus of cheers, Takumi, Yugamu, Tsubasa, and Kako climbed into the school bus, ready for their journey towards Second to Last Defense Academy.

He just hoped Eito was there when they made it.

--

Dust filled his nose, coating his throat chalky and gritty, lungs heaving, bag leaving bruises in his flesh. Running from Second to Last was their only option, the only way to keep himself and the children safe, but a part of his heart wrenched itself from his chest and refused to leave the tile floor of the cafeteria. If he left….they wouldn’t be able to find him. He couldn’t even leave a note. His last connection to his friends and he was leaving it behind.

Eito gasped, struggling to breathe against the wet blood filling his chest cavity in wake of his heartbreak. Focus. Focus on now. Focus on the children.

They ran somewhere in front of him, torn shoes and bare feet stumbling over the cracked ground. Breaths echoed in harsh huffs, whimpers, and sobs, the children desperately trying not to attract the invaders with their noise but unable to stop the tears from beading down their cheeks.

Heavier thumps rattled behind them, scraping the earth. Buildings crashed. Debris crushed. Eito tried to listen for the footsteps over his own thundering heartbeat. They were getting closer. Too close.

They.

They weren’t going to make it.

Eito dug his heels in, skidding over loose gravel. He turned towards the horrible monsters’ shrieking. Actual monsters this time, not the Futurans, not his friends.

“Mister! What are you doing?!” The little girl’s voice was ragged, breath shallow. Footfalls sped up and a hand fisted the back of his jacket, tugging in futility. “We have to move!”

She pulled back with all her might, feet slipping against uneven ground, unable to budge Eito even an inch. He appreciated her concern. Even just the effort to keep him in their group meant more to him than she’ll ever know.

The ground shook with the impending invader stampede.

“Go back home. Go back to your family and explain,” he murmured, withdrawing his infuser from the bag.

“W-what? B-but—,”

“I’ll stay here and hold them off.” Drudging up the last of his resolve, Eito smiled. “I’m strong, it’ll be no problem, but use the opportunity to run far away.”

Tiny hands trembled.

“But we broke our promise.”

“Then ask for forgiveness and make a new one.”

Eito plunged the sword into his chest.

--

The bus whined as it traversed the ruins, jostling every few seconds as they ran over rubble. Tsubasa flexed her hands around the wheel, swallowing heavily, pedal to the floor, and repeated a quiet mantra under her breath. Takumi sat behind her, torso leaning so far into the aisle, she’d scolded him about falling and getting a concussion. As it was, Takumi just gripped the seat as tight as he could, knuckles bleeding white. He stared through the windshield as they got further and further away from Last Defense Academy. Everything looked the same out here, buildings beyond repair, a skeleton of the life that once resided here. But they had the directions to their destination. Hell, the way to Second to Last was tattooed along the folds of his brain forever.

Sunlight streamed directly overhead, lighting their path and flashing off of bent street signs as they blew past them. Wind buffeted against glass windows. The red arrow on the bus’s speed dial sputtered as it hit it’s limit.

“We’re close,” Yugamu muttered. His too-long fingers rapped against his knee as he leaned forward. Takumi nodded, just to do something with the nervous energy crowding his veins. Thrumming flies beat thousands of wings against his mind and he blinked harshly. Stay focused.

They’d been driving for a few hours now, going as fast as the school bus would possibly allow. The sooner they got there and back, the less time V’ehxness would have to attack while they were gone. Takumi didn’t want to think about the carnage he could return to. If—

“Shit!” Tsubasa yelled, slamming her foot on the break. Tires screeched as they locked, bus skidding over the loose ground. Takumi pitched forward, smashing his nose into the seat. Fuck! He groaned, lifting a hand to his face. Yugamu flung completely out of his chair, tumbling forward as the bus finally came to a stop with a distressing crunch.

“Yugamu!” Kako called. She stepped unsteadily from her seat, running up to check on the man. He waved a hand through the air.

“Fine, just fine.” He wheezed and Takumi squinted at him through tears. Man, he hoped his nose wasn’t broken. “Tsubasa, dear, why the sudden stop?”

Their driver gasped for breath, hands clasped over her mouth. She hadn’t thrown up, at least. “Sorry, sorry! Hurk—this is as far as we can go. The path’s blocked.”

Looking up, Takumi saw what she meant. One of the nearby stores had crumbled in on itself, knocking cement and drywall into the street. The debris was too large for them to move, but as Takumi gauged their surroundings, they were pretty close anyway.

“Then let’s run. We’ll grab Eito and come back here.”

The others nodded, picking themselves up and descending the steps out of the bus. Yugamu winced, but it seemed his class armor had protected him from any serious damage. The air was hot as they stepped through the doors, dry and gritty. Sun beat uncomfortably warm on their backs, sweat beading along the nape of Takumi’s neck, but it didn’t matter. They had to move.

Before he could step forward though, voices echoed through the rubble.

Takumi jolted, whipping around. There. A small head of orange hair weaved through the ruins, bright in contrast to the bleached rock. Futuran, maybe? His friends paused, watching.

A gaggle of children followed.

An entire group of Futuran children scurried through the buildings, tripping over pebbles and helping each other navigate the maze.

“That man said he’d protect us, we have to go!”

“The map points left!”

The one with orange hair tugged the hand of another child, leading them further from sight, voices shaking all the while. Takumi frowned, brow furrowed. So there were others on this planet. Civilian Futurans caught up in humanity’s greed and V’ehxness’ revenge. He wanted to investigate. He wanted to follow them and ask how they lived, if they had families, friends, people they fought for.

But they didn’t have time.

“Come on, we got to go.” Takumi turned to sprint back towards Second to Last Defense Academy, the opposite direction the children were heading.

V’ehxness was an always looming threat.

They couldn’t get sidetracked now.

--

Listening to small footsteps fade into the distance, Eito leveled his scythe. Good. They’d be far enough away.

Not that he didn’t intend to fight. He just hadn’t had a chance to try it since he’d lost his sight.

Invaders surrounded him, close enough he could smell their rotting artificial stink. They shrieked and garbled and roared, not taking any time to plan. Why would they need to? It was an army against a single man.

Eito struck first. Wind split as he slashed his blade and…didn’t connect.

The next moment, pain exploded from his spine.

“AGH!”

Lightning rocked up his back, cooing in his ear as it dug claws through his shoulder. Good. Great. Eito spun, driving the scythe in an arc. Resistance pushed against his arms and he grinned, something feral and manic. Tensing, he threw all his weight into a vicious swing, slicing the invader clean in half. It’s dying choke was music to his ears.

Using that momentum, he flung his weapon around his back. Metal screeched against rock, catching on something. Dammit. Blades split his arm. Blood gushed.

Eito swung. Another down.

Pivot. Slash. Pain ripped up his thigh. Strike again. Judge. Teeth buried in his side, causing his hands to spasm. Slice the invader’s head off, rip it’s clamped foaming mouth from his flesh. Jury. Blood leaked in rivers, soaking the dry earth. It drank greedily. Side-step. Don’t stumble, fuck. Agony pierced his other shoulder. Righteous lightning boomed, ozone flooding his nostrils. His scythe rent another invader in two. Executioner.

His plan: let the invaders hit him so he could tell their location.

In reality, he couldn’t tell how many were left.

Eito gasped, sweat dripping down his cheek. Hands trembled around his weapon, body pulsing with hurt. Something bumped into his ankle, rumbling before exploding with burning acid against his leg. He drove the hilt of the scythe through its skull.

Nausea thrummed around the edges of his consciousness, head so light he was sure it’d float away. An ocean of waves not under the moon’s control. Eito gritted his teeth and swung again. Ginormous hands caught and the blade ricocheted, forcing his arm wide. Ah. Rookie mistake.

Claws drove through his chest, ripping just shy of his ribs and tearing down. Eito screamed until his voice petered out. His back hit the ground with a wet thud, torso spasming and twitching. Eito wheezed, choking on the thick blood filling his lungs. Looming shadows blocked the sunlight.

So, this was how it ended.

He chuckled, hacking up bile.

Eito wouldn’t get to see how the story ended. He’d never see that hundredth day, never know if the future was bright or dim, never know if the rest of the Special Defense Unit got the happy ending they deserved.

But maybe his life wasn’t a waste after all. Maybe…in the end…he’d helped someone?

What a nice thought.

Cool metal pressed against his palm, blunt nails catching on the edge. How familiar. He squeezed his hand close to his chest, the last sense of comfort he could give himself as his body shut down. His thumb hovered.

Before he died, though, he didn’t want to think of what a failure he was. Instead, all Eito wanted…was to see his friends.

Sirei’s last mercy.

Memories, false as all the others, flooded through his slowing mind.

Splashing water, the sharp scent of chlorine, the clear blue color. The thwap of a volleyball against his fingers, loud laughter as they dove for it, Yugamu’s warm against his back as they teamed up against Kyoshika and Takumi. The others cheered him on distantly, arms waving from the pool, and his cheeks ached from smiling. Eito hadn’t even known that was possible. Then Takumi laughed, red blue eyes lit up like a supernova. He was beautiful, the universe in his smile. He reached out to take Eito’s hand and their fingers intertwined, puzzle pieces or planets or socks or moon and ocean—whatever the analogy, they fit perfectly.

EIto’s smile grew, blood trickling from the corner of his lip. That…had been a fun day. One of his favorites.

What better way to die than with his friends by his side.

His thumb descended.

…Slash!

Crunch. Slice. Squash.

Shrieking echoed around Eito once more and he paused, memories wavering around the edges of his brain. Light warmed his cheek.

“EITO!”

Ah. How kind, for Takumi to visit in his last moments. Hands swung together as they walked back to the roof, sun setting the world golden rose. Just basking in their time together.

“Oh hurk—h-he doesn’t look very good.”

“For the love of murder…,”

“If we can get him back in time—!”

Takumi glowed in the low light, lips tilted in a kind smile.

He’d die with this feeling close to heart, surrounded by those he loved.

“Is that a bomb?!”

“Eito, stay awake—Stay with me—!”

Unconsciousness plunged cold over his head like a wave.

--

Eito didn’t have a great track record with waking up. Greeting the morning brought pain and screaming and uncertainty, usually followed by monotonous canned food.

But this time, he did not wake against cold tile, nor the unforgiving rigidity of a wall. His body was cushioned by something soft, plush fabric holding him like something fragile. Like something important. He still couldn’t see, of course. Darkness was his world now, probably would be for the rest of his life span, and it was so incredibly lonely.

Except.

Except the scent filling this room was familiar.

“What…?” Eito mumbled, sitting up slowly. He froze. Shock flooded his mind, buzzing through his limbs. He wasn’t in any pain. Not a single ache. “But I…,”

Died. He was supposed to die.

So how was he—?

“Oh, you’re awake! W-we weren’t sure if we were quick enough but looks like we got in the Revive-o-Matic’s range just in time. How are you feeling?”

That voice. That horrendous screeching voice.

“Takumi.”

--

When they’d found Eito, he was ripped apart. One of his legs bent backwards, an angle not natural, and blood pooled wet and acrid around him in a halo. Chest gaping, ribs poking through wet muscle, class armor torn to shreds, his white flame had sputtered weakly. Worst of all, a blue bag laid by his hip, detonator clutched in his hand like a lifeline. Quick as they could, Takumi and gang took out the surrounding invaders and slipped the device from his grip before he blew himself (and all of them) up.

But he was already out.

The only option, as Kako stated, was to try to get him back to the school before he died. If they did, there was a chance he could still be revived, working on the assumption that Sirei put him back in the database. So Takumi’s heaved Eito’s broken bleeding body into his arms and ran like his life depended on it. Well, Eito’s did.

They were lucky it all worked out.

The second the bus crashed through the wall of flames, one of the drones came to scoop Eito up, and they all anxiously waited three agonizing hours for it to repair him.

Now…

Eito faced Takumi, who sat by his bed in the Infirmary. The rest of the SDU gathered in the back of the room, not wanting to overwhelm him. His mouth gaped, brows crushed together.

“But that wasn’t real.” His voice cracked.

Takumi grimaced. “Eito, I-I’m so sorry—,”

EIto’s hand lashed out and Takumi flinched, but he didn’t do more than wrap it around Takumi’s fingers which laid on top of the bed. His glove was rough beneath Takumi’s touch and he held so tight it hurt, but Takumi didn’t move. He just watched. Waited with bated breath and a galloping heartbeat.

Then—tears. Tears, crystal clear, ran tracks down Eito Aotsuki’s face, slipping below dark glasses and dripping thick off his chin. His face crumbled, lip trembling.

Takumi’s heart fractured.

“Ah, how embarrassing.” Eito sniffed, reaching up and scrubbing under his glasses with his free hand.

“Fascinating. I didn’t know your tear ducts were still intact,” Yugamu murmured before someone elbowed him in the side.

“I—,” Eito let out a shuddering half sob, half laugh. “Didn’t know either. This must be a dream.”

“Not a dream, man. You’re back at the academy.” Takemaru gruffed, voice soft. Eito caved inwards, shoulders rolling to his ears.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Tsubasa hummed. “We brought you back with the school bus. Luckily you were still near the other school.”

“A-and the invaders?”

“We took care of them,” Kako chirped.

“The…The children.” With that, Eito’s face snapped back up. He gripped Takumi with urgency. “They got away, right? They’re safe?”

Takumi’s throat closed, breath short. This Eito. Oh, he was nothing like the one he’d known. Tear tracks still streaked wet across his pale skin, righteous eyes lost in the wake of the truth, he was even willing to sacrifice himself to save a group of Futuran kids. He was a protector. He was warm and caring and Takumi’d judged him all wrong.

“They made it out. They’re safe.”

Eito nodded, relief racketing through him.

Takumi swallowed over the boulder crowding his airway. “Eito I—,”

“Don’t. I don’t want any apologies from you. Any of you, freaks. I…don’t even need to know why you came back for me. I’m just…lucky to be here. Back with all of you.”

“So mushy—Ack!” Gaku gagged. Moko quickly put him in a head lock.

“We’re glad you’re here with us.” Nozomi grinned and Eito smiled back, smiled at the only real human in their group with nothing but admiration.

“Well, we have everyone here…,” Hiruko started, stepping forward and looking towards their team leader. “Not to break up such a heartwarming moment, but what’s the plan now, Takumi?”

Takumi sat up. The plan?

He thought of this planet, the artificial satellite in space, his friends by his side. Flashes of fallen comrades, of harrowing truths hidden behind veils, of the victims of war. A group of children running through ruined land and those fighting hard to protect them. Tooth and nail, willing to sacrifice it all for people he didn’t know. Abandoning regrets and striving for what’s right, to decide one’s own destiny.

Well, it seemed simple.

Takumi squeezed Eito’s hand in his.

“We protect this planet. For those who didn’t get a choice in this war.”

With everyone together, Eito included, they would make a new future. They would make new memories, real memories. They’d laugh and cry and argue, but it’d be their lives all the same.

Takumi’d decided, some weeks ago, that they’d continue to fight for humanity, but as he’d learned recently, not everything was so black and white, and sometimes decisions needed revision. They had to choose a future they’d be proud of.

Eito smiled and squeezed back.

Takumi could be proud of this.