104Northern Tribes – Somewhere in the Northern Country
The little outdoor throne was nothing more than a concrete lawn chair. She sat on it for the sake of principle, but there was no comfort to be found upon its seat. It was made for practicality, for any other material wouldn't survive the brutal cold that blew harsh winds across her light blue hair and porcelain white skin. She knew the cold very well, having been raised in such conditions, so there was no need to focus on it further. Instead, she shifted it to her new little puppy, naked and sad-looking, as he gleefully licking her boots clean.
The pleasure she derived from it had begun to wane after the first hour of his submissiveness, but the victory she held within the chain leash still had brought some leftover satisfaction. The second hour, however, had brought to her a growing sense of disgust. It was repulsive how easy it was to have broken her puppy's spirit; her army was fierce and efficient, sure, but she was hoping for a more intense fight given the enemy's reputation. Within the third hour, the sight of the former glorious Numa Seika, the great military prince, the hero of the north, panting and slobbering like a good dog, was offensive to her eyes.
In only mere moments, she had taken complete control over the Northern Tribes, a feat she was most prideful of. It was more than just a reflection of her amazing soldiers – who she saw approaching the throne she sat – but was a reflection of her cunning leadership and supreme power among all. The tingles of her chilled blood almost brought another smile to her face, but watching the pathetic Numa Seika follow her moving boots with his tongue killed it.
She looked at her approaching soldiers, but before the view was blocked by their tall figures, she briefly admired the work she and they did to the buildings and homes of the fallen. She hadn't been up far this North in a long time; it gave her such nostalgia to see the well-built brick and concrete homes among the pillars and mountains of ice and snow. But among the pillars and homes was her most recent attempt at human torture and annihilation. She attempted to accent an artistic flare to it this time, albeit a very novice form of flare, she admitted.
She had read a book during their travels but was unable to finish it prior to arriving. It was an interesting book about the life of a long-dead prince and his exploits. It was nothing she hadn't read before, but what really drew her attention was not his exploits, but of the impressive way he kills and humiliates his enemies. Those outside his country saw him as a serial killer, and the ones he ruled under knew him as a great leader, but in history, he was seen as a prolific impaler.
It suckered her further into the reading. She found herself losing time during that part. It was entertaining. Inspiring. She believed this to have been a perfect time to reenact such an artistic direction. She was always looking for new ways to torment her enemies, the more creative the better.
And thus, before her, was what she attempted to imitate. Rows upon rows of soldiers, fighters, and civilians spiked from their bottoms to their tops, or wherever her imagination took her. It was difficult the first couple of times, the book made it seem easier to accomplish. The screaming was a nice touch though, so she didn't mind the difficulty. She liked the challenge.
The first one was spiked very easily, but he had died far too quickly. The next one was spiked through the chest, but the damage from the battle caused him to split in half. The third was a pregnant woman; she made sure to spike her in the right position away from the unborn baby. It was a funny joke. Her least favorite was the man she spiked up his anus. It was a request from her soldiers, and she believed, at the time, they deserved their entertainment. Her goal was to make the spike go up his throat, but maneuvering it proved difficult. She accidentally led the spike out his chest the first time. She retracted it and tried again, but it shot out of his shoulder. She tried again; it came out of his neck. She gave up after that, seeing that her soldiers no longer found it amusing. Still, it was a good start, but she'll need more practice.
Her soldiers had stopped at the foot of her throne. Numa Seika continued licking her boots clean.
"General Esdeath," the soldier held out an envelope with the Empire's insignia waxed on, "A letter from the Emperor."
Hmm, interesting, she doesn't often get direct-contact orders like this. General Esdeath maneuvered the chain leash to the left and Numa crawled on all fours following her lead. She opened the letter.
"...Hm," it was a quick read. It contained simple but urgent orders, "It seems our fun has come to an end."
She gave Numa Seika another glance. His empty eyes, puppy smile, and slobbering tongue begged for orders. General Esdeath guided him closer to her.
She inspected his pathetic form for the last time before speaking to him.
"I can't believe you were the best this place had to offer," she winded up her licked boot, "How very disappointing."
WHAM!
The tip of her boot smashed the moist and gelatinous insides of Numa's head, but his puppy smile had remained on his dead face. Whatever was left of him will freeze in the brutal cold. And all the work he did on her boots was for naught. But that didn't matter to General Esdeath. She liked the blood.
She stood up with the strength of gods, looking beyond the dead city in arrogant wonder. There was only one thing that came to her mind.
"Honestly, is there anyone on this planet strong enough to satisfy my appetite?"
It was a rhetorical question.
Night Raid Base – In the midst of the night
While the team was hunting for Headhunter Zanku...
The corner scum on the ground was agonizing to get off. It teased Tatsumi, knowing it was the last bits of impurity in the entrance hall. He scrubbed as hard as he feasibly could, but only bits and piece were soaked into his rag. Regardless, he diligently scrubbed. The spots and dirt will eventually come off.
Tatsumi wasn't wearing his blazer, leaving him his button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up. He probably should have purchased some other clothing, even the rebels in the Revolutionary Army knew this. He never expected to have to do stuff like this in a suit, cleaning and cooking. But in hindsight, it was rather silly of him to assume that. He was part of a dedicated team now, he has to contribute to the quality of life somehow. Still, this was very degrading. At least he was almost done, hopefully the dorms are not as problematic as the halls...Surely.
After a few more scrubs, the leftover grime was removed, and the floors were satisfactory. Tatsumi wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, stood up, and stretched his arms and knees. It was time to begin the dorms. He went upstairs with no thought in his mind, oddly something he was beginning to become aware of. He'd been thinking about that question again, of why he was here. It was still a very ordinary question, but one that brought him some...distress? He wasn't sure. Not thinking about it was best for now until he sorted it out in private. He just wanted to get these dorms done and over with.
His walk led him to the dorm halls. The moonlight poured from the open windows and soaked into the stone and wallpaper. Tatsumi saw the line of doors beyond and reached for his back pocket. He picked up the ring of keys given to him by Najenda – the boss, he should be saying now. He walked to the first door and flipped through the keys to find the appropriate letters. "Le", "Bu", "Sh", "Mi"...he'll be skipping that one, "Naj", "Tat", "Ak" – that's the one. He opened Akame's locked door. Her red and black-themed room would only take fifteen minutes.
Perhaps he should decorate his room? Well, he doesn't really see it necessary.
He left for the next room, but he stopped right outside Akame's door.
His eyes laid on the wallpaper, frozen. There was a chill that ran up his spine, a sensation he never felt before. He forced his neck to the right.
For some reason, the hallway felt longer…
He shook himself out of it. He only now felt the headache disappear as quickly as it came. Tatsumi closed his eyes...his instinct felt no physical presence. He was alone. Maybe he was overworked? Impossible. Likely just plain exhaustion. Or was it a memory…? Maybe. No matter. Let's get this cleaning over with, he told himself.
He walked down the hall to the next door, adorned by a purple hanging door sign. "Celebrate imperfections; they tell a beautiful story", it read. This must be Sheele's room. "Sh". Her room took twenty-five minutes, a little longer because of the things that had gone misplaced, such as the three pairs of glasses under her rug, and another deep underneath her bed. They were all placed on her nightstand. Tatsumi noticed the purple theme, and the cottage-like atmosphere was interesting. He left the room sufficiently clean.
He looked down the hallway again. It was no bigger than it was before, but the moonlight was hurting his eyes now. The blue hue was intensifying, and Tatsumi couldn't shake this feeling of sterility as he stared into it.
When his feet began growing cold, he snapped himself back, and the headache disappeared just like before. He grasped his head and felt it sweat. He took a deep breath and looked up.
His eyes could not fathom why he felt so small in this hallway, nor why he felt such a strange sense of certainty and familiarity. He tried walking forward, but each step made the walls wider apart. His feet grew colder. Looking down, he saw he was barefoot. As a matter of fact, he wasn't wearing his white shirt and slacks anymore.
He was wearing the same gray shirt and pants he always wore. The doctors never gave him or the others anything else, unless they left the building for more training.
Tatsumi gripped the cleaning rag harder. Cleaning rag? No, that's not right, it was his pillowcase. Yes, he could feel the proper length.
He looked down at the sterile hallway. The lights were shut off as per the nightly routine, and the moonlight soaked in as always.
There wasn't a sound. His slippers were too loud. If he had socks, he would have worn them. Barefoot it was; the cold floor he would endure.
He walked across the tiles with no contemplation. The glossy floors glowed, illuminating the wooden doors and white walls that towered over the little Tatsumi. He vaguely remembered what each room was for, but that wasn't important. He was approaching the bathroom, the only unlocked room in this hallway.
He had been studying his target's routine for a while now, and 47 was confident he was in the restroom.
On a bi-weekly basis, 35 would indulge himself in more food than the rest of the kids. He was cunning in his methods of sneaking into the pantry, and smart enough to go unnoticed by the doctors and directors. He grew in strength because of this, and began fancying himself as the strongest among his series. He was surpassing everyone, including 47, who was recently struggling to meet expectations. And with every bruise and bleeding cut from his punishments, 35 was there to laugh. He had never felt such frustration before. This would be the last time 35's laughter would fill his ears.
The bathroom door was in sight. Slightly ajar, he saw the clinical light seeped out.
47 was mindful of his footsteps, feeling his soles lightly stick to the floor. Slowly, he ensured each movement made no sound.
He looked through the opening. Only the sinks and mirrors were in sight. He raised himself as high on his toes as he could. He barely could see the ground through the mirrors, but the stalls were now in sight. And the swinging feet of 35 was in the third one.
47 began twisting the pillowcase in his hands. A perfectly tightened rope was now all he had.
His one finger touched the door. He tried to push it slowly.
Creeaa–he stopped.
He backed away from the door.
The sound of 35's swinging feet ceased.
47 held his breath. He waited for a response.
But when one was not made, he carefully looked at the mirrors again. 35's feet swung once more.
47 released a breath. He'll have to go with Plan B.
He'll now have to be quick on his feet. His knees bent up and down, but he stopped himself from hopping. Too much noise.
He waited until he heard 35's toilet flush.
When he did, 47 swung the door open.
He entered the bathroom.
He pushed the door to its former position.
35 was about to exit. But as he left his stall, 47 had slide under the first stall.
He lied flat on the ground. His body did not move an inch. His head was still; only his eyes moved.
35 had stopped moving. From his position, he was likely staring at the door. 47 waited, there was no point in second-guessing. He had a Plan C, but the risks were too high, so he waited in silence.
Almost thirty seconds had passed, and 35 had finally returned to his path to the sinks. Plan B was a narrow success.
The sink turned on and 35 began washing his hands. 47 began to slowly crawl to him. The toilet water from 35's stall was still running, and the sink emitted enough noise to mask 47's crinkling clothes. By the time 35 began washing his face, 47 had stood up right behind him.
He wrapped the pillowcase rope around his small hands and waited for 35 to finish.
He was thorough with his face. Militaristic with his methods. Probably a little to obsessed. But it didn't matter to 47. He would allow him to enjoy this wash. It will be his last.
When 35 stopped his scrubbing, he allowed the water to trip off his little nose, mouth, and eyelashes. He wiped his face clean, rubbed some water on his bald head, and stared at the porcelain sink for a little while longer. He took a deep breath and wiped his face again. He let out a yawn, causing him to raise himself upward, reaching his arms to the ceiling before rubbing his eyes.
He only had a moment to see the pillowcase wrap around his neck.
He was caught.
47 immediately felt the adrenaline surge.
He twisted the garrote before 35 could fight back.
He turned himself and quickly brought him to his back.
35 choked.
He felt him swing his legs off of him.
The sink was damaged from the kicking.
47 didn't anticipate 35's weight.
He almost brought him to the ground.
35 began swinging his legs upward.
It brought 47 to the ground.
The garrote loosened.
35 acted fast. But so this 47.
35 punched 47's bald head.
He dropped his pillowcase.
47 tackled him to the stalls.
35's head smashed into the toilet bowl.
His head was plunged into the water.
He flailed his arms.
He caught 47's left ear.
35 turned slowly while pulling at it.
POW! He socked 47 across the cheek.
47 fell against the stall wall.
35 tried to attack again, but 47 regained his balance.
He punched 35's neck.
He choked.
35 tried to leave the stall. 47 pushed him back to the ground.
He wrapped his legs on top of him. He grasped his throat and squeezed.
The writhing brought them out of the stall.
35 tried to gouge 47's eyes. 47 released his throat.
He lowered and swung 35's arms away.
He punched 35's nose.
He yelped before 47's hands returned to his neck.
35 was losing his strength. He scratched 47's arms desperately.
His legs slid up and down on the smooth floor. He could barely cough and cry.
47 squeezed tighter. He closed his eyes as 35's turned red.
He was no longer coughing. His crying ceased.
47 squeezed. 35's face grew blue. His red eyes were bloody. It rose upward. His mouth began to foam. His tongue was bitten. Red soaked in.
47 squeezed. 35's legs moved slower. The scratching weaker. The foam increased.
47 kept squeezing. He dared not release. He lost track of time. His hands bled from the scratches. His arms grew sore. But his squeezing never ceased.
Eventually, there was only the buzzing of the lights.
35 was still underneath him. His legs were unmoving, and his gurgles were gone. 47 slowly opened his eyes to 35's blood ones. His face was blue and purple. The foam slipped onto the ground. His bloody nose continued seeping. He was unmoving. He was dead. Only then did 47 release him.
He breathed loudly, realizing how strained he was. He collapsed on the ground, leaning against the wall to rest. Only then did he realize that the entrance door was wide open.
He didn't recall when, but thinking back to his struggle, 47 felt eyes on him the moment he escaped the stall with 35. It was almost dazing how he didn't notice until now. The shadow upon him was still, and the silhouette was small.
Tatsumi looked up, and meeting his eyes was Mine's.
He had noticed the dorm halls he was now residing in, and the stone floors that no longer felt cold underneath his slacks and shoes. The walls were not plain, and the long halls were of appropriate proportions. He no longer felt sterile, but he was feeling something else entirely. Stupefied, perhaps, at what had just occurred.
The sweat soaked his shirt, and Tatsumi's breath was almost nonexistent. He looked dumbly at Mine, who was wearing a pink nightgown with her hair down. She too was blinking and staring dumbly at him. It seemed like gears were turning in her brain, but no conclusion was met. Tatsumi would've been embarrassed if this occurred out on a mission. Still, it was surprising to see Mine out and about.
Tatsumi closed his eyes and stood up. He didn't notice Mine stepping back a bit, so he straightened out his shirt and pants, picked up his rag and other cleaning supplies, and walked back to the door next to Sheele's. He would rather move on from this and continue his task. He went to Leone's door.
"What was that?"
Tatsumi stopped himself from opening the door. He didn't look at Mine, nor did he wish to talk about this moment further.
"It was nothing," he tried to deflect.
"It looked like you were having a seizure."
"...That's...probably what that was," he opened Leone's room.
"What are you doing?" Mine prodded.
"I'm cleaning the base."
"By yourself?"
"Yeah."
"After your seizure?"
"...Yes"
"…" Mine walked out to the hallway, "Why?"
"Punishment for my last mission…" he looked at Mine, "And likely a little of what occurred between you and me."
Tatsumi entered Leone's room, and the conversation with Mine was completely forgotten. The mess was horrendous. It looked like a pig sty and it smelled like one too. How is that possible? It took him a couple of seconds to process the room, enough to readjust his view of Leone's shameless lifestyle, and for Mine to stand by the door.
"You're going to have a lot of fun with this one," there was no mock in Mine's tone. She spoke matter-of-factly. Tatsumi didn't bother turning to her, and only sighed. He re-rolled his sleeves.
"You're wrong, by the way."
Tatsumi stopped. He turned to Mine upon her proclamation.
"Wrong about?"
"About us being just murderers," Mine crossed her arms, "And don't you dare say your line of bull again. I know about our job. And I know about the weight of what we do. I suppose my convictions weren't strong enough to defend myself before, but they are now!"
Tatsumi listened. Mine continued.
"I don't know where you got that idea, but I bet it was something the boss told you. And yes, I do disagree with it. I've always felt that was how she and rest grounded themselves into reality. How they justified the killing. But I always saw through that. And I see through you.
"I kill because I want to make the West a better place. That's where I was raised, that's where my home is, that's where half-foreign children like me are abused and starving. I kill to make their world a better place, and if I die trying then it's a death I'll accept. And if the world thinks I'm just a sick, twisted murderer then so be it.
"But you...after what you did, I can't tell why you're here. Even Akame, hell, Leone, has standards. And I know the death of a child is something they'd never forgive, even if they're the ones to kill them. And you want to know why I know this for certain.
"Because they kill for something too. They kill to make the Empire a better place. Whatever their reasons are, they kill for something greater than themselves. Something I'm beginning to believe you don't understand. That kid has yet to reveal our identities. I know this because I wasn't told of any wanted posters of us. And you were going to kill her.
"I don't know who you think we are, but we're not just murderers. Even if that stupid idea is perpetuated by the others. If anyone's a murderer here, it's you!"
"…"
Mine took a deep breath and placed her crossed arms on her hips.
"I obviously have no control over you being a member here, so I want to make this clear," she pointed at him, "I don't want to work with you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to breathe near you. When this war ends, I never want to see you again."
Mine's eyes narrowed.
"And I don't care if it's lightning that does it, if I hear that something happened to Sheele, I will kill you. I will kill you right where you stand.
"Are we clear?"
"…"
Mine waited for a response, and a response she got.
"We're clear."
"Good," she turned around, "I'm going grab something to eat. I'm starving. Don't clean my room, I don't want you in there."
She left down into the hallways. Tatsumi wouldn't start with Leone's room until she completely left, and after a solid fifteen minutes of thinking.
11:41 AM – After Tatsumi Finished Cleaning
"I won't tell anyone, I promise!"
"I'm begging you, don't kill me!"
"I'm so sorry, please, I can't breathe..."
Tatsumi's eyes stirred. The bright sun was beaming painfully at them. The headache didn't help either. Regardless, his eyes opened heavily to his bare ceiling. Despite his need for less sleep, the effort he put in last night was taxing. Taking a mission today would not be good. Hopefully, his performance will be seen well by the boss.
He rubbed his eyes, massaged his temples, and finally felt the abnormal weight on his legs. He quickly sat up to see them covered in a hill of purple.
The hill being Sheele. It caught him completely off guard.
He stared at her surprised. Her torso was lying on the covers deep, perhaps not realizing her head was on his legs. Her soft breathing was relaxed, and when she shifted her head, Tatsumi saw she was sleeping.
"…" Tatsumi stared at her for the longest time as she softly snored on his legs. The other half of her wasn't even on a chair. She had knelt on the floor, lied on his bed, and fell asleep. On the other side of his legs were her glasses, having moved away from her hands magically. Tatsumi bent forward to pick them up. He glanced at them like a child before setting them aside.
"Sheele?" he called. The young woman was still asleep. "Sheele." Still asleep.
With his index and middle fingers, he poked her. She snorted. He tapped again, and she snorted again. He would have tapped again if the head didn't rise from his legs.
"...Hm?" Her eyes were still closed, "Yeah?"
"…" Tatsumi watched as she slowly grasped her surroundings. She scratched the side of her head and slid back.
"Woah!"
Her knees slipped and she landed square on her bottom.
"Oww…" she rubbed her butt.
When she opened her eyes, she realized she was blind.
"Huh?" she looked distressed, "Huh?!"
She began scanning the floor for her glasses...She didn't think to check the bed first? Tatsumi was stunned to see her actively searching away from his bed.
With his legs freed, he got up while Sheele continued her frantic and fruitless search for her glasses.
Her anxious frenzy would only end when Tatsumi knelt down and handed them to her. She looked at them dumbly before grabbing them and putting them on.
"I'm sorry," she bowed on the ground before standing up, "I must have fallen asleep."
"...On my bed?" Tatsumi began to think this was all an act.
"Yeah," she answered sincerely, "I thought you'd be up. When I saw you sleeping, I waited until you woke up."
She smiled warmly, "I saw my room, by the way. You did such a great job, Tatsumi! I hope it wasn't too much trouble."
Tatsumi didn't say anything, Leone's room was brought back to his mind. That was trouble.
"We made you a nice breakfast, it seems like everyone was happy with what you did. I-I'll wait for you outside so you can get dressed."
Tatsumi watched her walk out the door. After a couple of shivers, he got into his white shirt and black slacks and walked with Sheele.
—
"Hey! There's our guy!"
A playful applause filled the air as everyone watched Tatsumi enter the dining room.
"Did you sleep well?" Bulat continued, "Cause I sure did with my clean room, I owe you some personal training, Tats!"
"TATSUMI!" Tatsumi felt the wind knock out of him as a yellow blur tackled him to the ground. Leone, who was ecstatic to see him, strangled him in a huge bear hug.
"DUDE! MY ROOM IS SO CLEAN! THANK YOU!" She gave him a flurry of kisses on his soft hair, as Tatsumi suffocated in her breasts.
"Leone, knock it off!" Lubbock called.
"Or what, lover boy!" She hugged him tighter, making Lubbock blush.
"Ah-Ah, You're going to kill the guy!"
"Pfft, you're just jealous."
"You really are going to, Leone," Akame interjected.
Leone blinked and released Tatsumi, who immediately stood up for a breath. That woman's breasts could kill a man if her strength won't. He just might keep his distance from her in moments like this.
"Sorry, lil' bro! I guess I got carried away."
Tatsumi fixed his white shirt, "Was the boss happy?"
"Yeah, she was," Lubbock answered, "She didn't expect you to finish in one night, and we didn't expect you to do a good job, so thanks, man."
"We made you breakfast," Akame said, "You didn't touch any of my stuff did you?"
"You mean 'take' anything?"
Akame didn't answer.
"...No, I didn't touch anything."
"Good." She was still staring at him as she moved away from the table. As did everyone.
"Ta daaa!" Bulat did a dramatic pose. Leone joined in with jazz hands.
In the center of the table, with a fork and a knife, napkins, and a cup of milk, was a breakfast that he felt he hadn't had in a very long time.
Four large stacks of fluffy, buttermilk pancakes.
"Eat up, Tatsumi!" Leone slapped her stomach, "We already ate, but Akame and Sheele will hang around."
"Yeah enjoy it, man," Lubbock began walking out, "I got stuff to attend to."
Leone grew curious, "What stuff?"
Lubbock audibly sniffed outside the kitchen, "Nothing of your concern, Leone."
"Were you in my room again!"
Lubbock's footfalls were loud and quick.
"HEY!" Leone rushed after him, "YOU PERV!"
Bulat shook his head, "Geez...Anyway, I have to train."
He gave Tatsumi a thumbs up, "Come train some time with me Tats, I'll give you some real muscles in no time!"
He flexed briefly, shining like a star, and walked out of the kitchen with a saunter that seemed to attempt to flaunt his physique. Unfortunately, it caused the air to thicken in silence, only to break with Sheele's sheepish chuckle.
"W-Well," she smiled, "I hope you enjoy your pancakes, Tatsumi. I still haven't finished my breakfast, so I'll eat with you."
"Me too," Akame added, which was not very surprising for Tatsumi. She ate like a horse; this was likely her fourth or fifth serving.
Also, he couldn't help but notice the unrelenting stares he was getting from the two women throughout that whole team engagement. It was now difficult to ignore, but he will try.
He reached the chair and took a seat. The aroma of the pancakes filled his nose. It was still warm. Still very nostalgic...for some reason.
The eyes around him suddenly disappeared as he stared into the delicious pancakes.
The directors gave me the power to decide your punishment, but I think such a thing would ignore the skillful display you performed in killing 35. I always knew you were the best in your series, so punishing you is not appropriate.
I had the chefs make this especially for you. Such skill is what we expect of you, and you showed this when you killed 35. You deserve this, 47, I want you to savor this and remember the effort you put into your kill.
However, this will be the last time you will be rewarded like this. 35 is replaceable, but any more deaths among your series or any other will bring you severe punishment. I'm lenient because of your skills, but if you do this again, I will not be lenient.
Enjoy your pancakes, 47, training starts in thirty minutes.
Tatsumi immediately began scarfing down the pancakes.
Each mouthful was taxing to his jaw, but the savoring sweetness and fluffy warmth of each serving was too intoxicating. It had completely blinded him of the two pairs of eyes still on him.
Why they were staring was still beyond him. He later assumed it was because of how passionate he was about his breakfast.
Last Night – Upon the Arrival Back to the Night Raid Base and After the Death of Headhunter Zanku
"We want an explanation."
Sheele can see the discomfort from Najenda's forehead with each pressing massage of her fingers, yet Akame persisted.
"I know you're hiding something about Tatsumi, and we want to know what it is."
The boss spoke, "Yes, alright," she was exhausted, "I was going to tell you in the morning, Akame. I'm sorry for leaving it-"
"We want to know right now." Akame's tone made Sheele flinch, "We have no idea who Tatsumi is, yet someone like Zanku matched a description to him? It's either a huge coincidence or something else."
Sheele spoke on her side of this need.
"I-If there is anything at all we can know about Tatsumi...I think it would make it easier to work with him. E-Especially for me, if I'm going to be...well, watching over him."
"And it would help us gauge his danger level. He's far too liberal with his methods. You already know how I feel about the Ogre/Gamal mission."
"Yes, I know, I know…" Najenda rubbed her eyes again, and straightened out her pajamas, "But I would rather tell you tomo-"
"We want to know now!" Akame demanded, "Who the hell is Tatsumi?"
The still face of Najenda felt like a dark corridor slowly opening. The confines inside were unknown to her, but it felt vastly bigger than she initially thought. A dark pit swelled in her stomach, and her chest felt shallow. After a couple of seconds of agonizing silence, Najenda spoke.
"He's another child soldier," she closed her eyes, "Zanku's description matches what I was told when I was a general for the Empire."
The wash of coldness across Sheele was of no surprise to such a revelation. It was obvious, yet she had a hunch it was far worse than Najenda was making it out to be.
"H-How bad was it?" she asked.
Najenda looked at her, "Far worse than you can imagine." She then looked at Akame, "Unfortunately, I don't know the full details of his life."
"…" Akame shifted her eyes to the ground briefly. She raised them with more questions, "Worse than...me?"
"...You start from birth."
That left them speechless. Najenda allowed them time to swallow this. Sheele looked to support Akame, but she herself was well trapped in her own mind. It explained so much. Tatsumi's behavior, his personality. His skills.
"Is this why he needs a...a handler?" Sheele asked.
"Yes, more or less," Najenda crossed her arms. "This was in Romania. I knew about it and it's what led me on this...investigation. I suppose there's no denying it now."
"I've never heard of this before," Akame said.
"It was close-knit info. The Empire didn't want anyone outside their circle knowing about it."
"Why didn't you ever tell me this?"
"It wasn't relevant. Haven't thought about it in a long time."
"How did Zanku know about this?"
"I...believe he was involved in some way in the middle of things; on behalf of the Empire, probably. It might have been our way of spying on things. Wasn't able to get the details, this happened very early in my career. He wasn't the same when he came back, that I know for sure."
Akame shifted a bit before releasing her final question.
"How do you know about it?"
"…" Najenda's eyes shifted away, "That's...not something I wish to share. Just...It was part of my job to know, let's leave it at that."
"...Fine," The look on Najenda's face was not of deceit. Whatever she was feeling, Sheele and Akame will not know tonight. Her face was distorting from exhaustion.
"Is what I gave you enough for you two?"
"I-I just have one more question, boss," her eyes went to Sheele, "Why didn't you tell anyone about this...investigation?"
Najenda raised an eyebrow, looking briefly at Akame before returning to her.
"I wasn't sure until now. Didn't want to throw theories out the window like that. Some members wouldn't have taken it well. Others...well, I assumed it was insensitive to say without proof."
Akame exhaled. Sheele saw her eyes closed, before changing to a subtle nod.
"That's...very considerate of you, boss," Sheele said.
Akame didn't immediately answer. She narrowed her eyes towards the boss, who looked away from her uncomfortably. Sheele noticed this before it was abruptly finished.
"We may have more questions," Akame finished.
"Then it's going to have to wait until tomorrow," Najenda stretched her back, "I'm glad you all were successful, and Tatsumi did a good job with the cleaning. I think all's well that ends well."
"...Alright."
"Alright," Najenda began closing the door, "Good night, girls."
The door shut.
Present – Outside the Night Raid Base
Sheele was still thinking about that night, even on their way to the river by the base for what little endurance training Tatsumi needed. He didn't seem to mind the quiet walk. Didn't even give her a glance. She would have been bothered had she not known the reason.
From birth. To be trained from birth. Even Akame had some semblance of a childhood before...well, she won't go further into that. She still wondered how Najenda knew about this, but right now, Tatsumi was on her mind. That and the role she was given.
She felt someone else should have been given this position. Was there anyone here who could better care for him? Because that person is definitely not Sheele. Oh geez, why her? It made her so stressed that she began to rub her stretched temples. The sight of the soft grass beneath her boots served little to distract her. The dirt by the stone she sat on did nothing either. Her mind kept going to Tatsumi, who was currently–OH SHOOT! SHE FORGOT!
She rushed to the river, "Tatsumi!", she quickly splashed across the running water, "TATSUMI!"
SPLASH! She pushed herself back, startled. But her racing heart was put at ease at the sight of the treading Tatsumi in heavy armor.
"What's wrong?" he simply asked. She almost tripped herself from the casual question, but overall, she was relieved.
"N-No, sorry I was lost in thought. How long were you underwater for?"
"Six minutes."
"Oh...really?"
"Yeah."
"Wow...you're really amazing Tatsumi," she said gently.
Tatsumi didn't acknowledge the compliment. He trod back to the river's edge and climbed.
"From what I've heard," he began, "You're quite skilled yourself."
The comment gave Sheele a surprise.
"Uh...yeah, I guess," she sheepishly laughed, "That's pretty much all I can do. Along with training, and...yeah."
"I remember you saying this to me before," Tatsumi began taking off the heavy armor, "I wanted to ask what you meant."
"Hm?"
Tatsumi tossed the leg armor and gauntlets aside, "Is killing and training the only thing you're assigned to?"
Sheele's cheeks began to burn up, "Well...yeah, I guess."
"What's wrong?"
She turned away, "N-Nothing, it's nothing," she scratched the back of her head, "I'm just…I'm just a bit clumsy is all."
"Is that a problem?"
There it was. She didn't know what the question would look like, but it always comes back to her inadequacies. It made her shoulders slump a bit and her eyes shift back to the soft grass. The somber wave flowed through her head once again when the thoughts came. She might as well be honest with him about this.
"...Yeah, it's...it's a problem," her heart tugged when she said this, "I guess...I guess I'm just an airhead."
She continued.
"I don't know why, but I just...I-I can't do much outside of killing and training. I can't cook without destroying the kitchen. I can't clean without dirtying up the place. I can't even clean up my room without Mine's help.
"I'm...kinda useless."
The clouds were beginning to cover the sun. Her thoughts shifted to her long dead friend, Mira, and the field grew darker. Horrible thoughts entered her mind, thoughts that she always tried to suppress for the sake of her own sanity.
Was she capable of anything else? Is she going to be like this for the rest of her life? Is there a place for her after the war? Is she better off dead?
Can she be more than just a killer?
Her mind would continue to race until the sound of soft footfalls approached her. It was delicate and purposeful. She only reacted when the feet were visible to her downed eyes.
She looked at Tatsumi, staring at her with his sharp, empty eyes. Not a word was shared, but an exchange of eyes told it's story. One with some angst, but in some odd level, it was one with some form of camaraderie. Perhaps it was merely because of the jobs they worked together in, and likely it was one sided to her, but a warm sense began to swell up in Sheele's heart. A realization among the angst she felt not moments ago.
What she was doing right now, watching over Tatsumi. Could this be purposeful for her? Could she do this? Could this be something she's capable of? Maybe...just maybe...there was hope.
She'll try to make this work.
Somewhere in the Capital – In the Midst of Night
The tracking dogs barked ravenously at the warehouse entrance. The building itself had been abandoned at short notice upon the new arrival, or so the fearful workers have said. Very few of them reported this, a common behavior in such a low income area, so the exact time of this occurring was unknown.
Honestly, he found this place so gross and unfashionable. If they had more money maybe they could trade in their rags for something more visibly appealing. Oh well, not his problemo~.
The guards kept the dogs at bay, but their barking was starting to get on his nerves. He played with the white bits of his hair from the encompassing black, thinking about the lengths it took to get to this point. It was almost impossible to believe she was inside, but so far this was the closest they were able to track her down. She must have stopped moving, for some reason.
He looked at the Imperial Police Captain, the new one after the death of Ogre.
"Captain," he called, annoyed "Aren't you going to do something?" He pointed to the entrance door.
"...Doctor," the captain spoke, his voice as commanding as possible at his presence, "I...don't want to risk the lives of my officers entering. We still don't know if it's safe."
"So what? You plan to wait outside and pay tea time with the girls?"
"What? No, of course not! We must plan this through."
The doctor approached him. His saunter bringing fear rather than allure. A shame.
He was right in front of the captain's face.
"I don't care if a couple of you have to get their legs chopped off or their entrails scooped out. I want the woman inside that building – in there!" He pointed at the building, "Right. Now."
From his close proximity, he could sense the man was in perfect health, just like the former Captain Ogre. He seemed to keep himself in good shape, something the doctor liked in men. He too must always look his best. It was tough to be this fabulous. He wouldn't be caught dead being all skin and bones.
The Captain fidgeted under his gaze, but relented to the doctor's command.
He looked at his officers. "You, you, and you," he pointed at two men and one woman, "Get into position at the front entrance and prepare to breach in."
The three looked at him uncertain, so the doctor stood in front of the captain.
"C'mon kiddos, chop chop~," he clapped his hands with each chop, "This is taking too long, and Mama needs his beauty sleeeeeeep~. COME ON!"
They immediately rushed to the door.
The captain looked at the dogs and dog trainers.
"You too, get behind them and prepare the dogs to rush in."
"Yes sir!" the dog units got behind the breachers. They all were positioned and nervous.
The cute officer boy on the left side took the lead, seeing the girl nervously look to him.
"A-Alright, ready?" he said.
"Y-Yeah," the girl responded.
"All set," said the last.
The dog unit was in position. The group went silent as they braced themselves. The girl clenched her teeth in fear, and the other boy put his foot into position. The leader breathed in...and breathed out.
"GO!"
The other boy kicked the door open.
They stormed in.
The dogs were released. They rushed inside.
For a while, the doctor and the captain could only hear the scampering of feet and the sounds of barking as the dogs darted from one corner to the next, searching for the source of the scent. The sounds faded the deeper they entered, but the lights could still be seen from the windows. Suddenly, one light disappeared.
Crunch.
It was such a low sound it almost went unnoticed. But the guttural screaming of the girl broke through just fine.
A symphony of gunfire shattered the silence completely. The doctor heard the dogs whimper and cry before they disappeared in a squish and slosh. The young man, sounding like the cute one, screamed until the sounds of gunfire lessened.
"N-NOO!" The last gunfire stopped and the scurried footfalls of the other young man grew louder as it attempted to reach the entrance.
Through the darkness, all the officers saw the young man sprinting with his life on twine. And what chased him in the unseeable darkness was the roar of a horrible beast.
RAAAAAEEEEEEGHH!
The man tripped at the edge of the entrance.
"O-OH MY GOD!" He grasped at the entrance seems. The stone threatened to take his fingernails.
He looked at the other officers, "H-HELP ME!"
The others hesitated as the young man was pulled.
"IT'S A DANGER BEAST! A DANGER BEAST!" he began to cry, "DON'T LET ME DIEEEE-AAAAAAAH!"
He was pulled in, and his screams ended with a horrible crunch and slurp.
There was just silence now. It was terrifying for the officers, and stunning to the captain. Not a breath was taken by the dog unit as they slowly moved away from the entrance. Their dogs be damned. The doctor looked to the captain, frozen by the sudden loss of officer life. The thought of entering the building himself must have left him completely. But it didn't leave the doctor.
"*tch, my god," he shook his head, "Did you boys forget about her imperial arm?"
"...We-"
"Never mind," he interrupted, "Just stay outside, for heaven's sake."
He began approaching the building.
"D-Dr. Stylish, our orders are to protect-"
"Oh hush now!" he yelled back, "You guys are horrible at your jobs, I don't need your protection! You should have known the imperial arm was going to do this!"
He moved passed the stunned dog unit and entered the building. Without missing a beat, he turned on his light and entered further with a confident stride.
"Seryu?! Honey?!"
He walked in deeper, but stopped when he stepped into a puddle. He froze immediately, and slowly looked down. The puddle was blood.
"Oh nooooo," he lifted his foot to see the flesh and goop coated into his sole, "Ugh, these are my good shoes!"
What a horrible thing to happen.
"Seryu, c'mon hun! I've been looking forever for you!"
Dr. Stylish walked in deeper. He was much faster than the unfortunate officers. There wasn't a single sign of fear in his heart.
"Seryu?!" he called, "Seryuuuuu?!"
Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
He stopped. There was something breathing down his neck. It was coating it with moisture. It made his eyes squint.
"Seryu?" He turned around and saw reddish porcelain. It was surprisingly close to him, and smelled horrible. Yet the tingle in his mind told him it was healthy and well-maintained. It hadn't been cleaned in a while, but the porcelain looked tough and sharp. It took him a second to realize it wasn't porcelain. It was enamel.
The breath soaked his face this time. Dr. Stylish looked up, and saw the owners of the large dentures.
Large eyes stared enraged at him, waiting for him to move. The teeth seeped out drool, believing him to be the next meal. Huge muscles inflated veins, preparing to rip him apart. And to this, Dr. Stylish smiled greatly.
"Korooo! Thank goodness!" he squealed, placing his bare hand under the Imperial Arm's nostrils, "It's me! Dr. Stylish! Remember?"
Instinctually, the beast smelled his fingers, and suddenly the rage disappeared. The beast began to smoke heavily until its very being was engulfed in it. Within close proximity, Dr. Stylish saw its muscles disappear and eyes shorten. Eventually, the beast was as tall as he was, instead of towering over him. And even that was short-lived until it was below his waist. When the smoke cleared, the beast was nothing more than a very small dog creature.
"Kiru, Kiru!" Koro jumped up and down with tear-filled eyes.
"Oh, Koro," Dr. Stylish knelt down and caressed the little dog's head, "Are you protecting your master?"
"Keeeeeeeeeeeeee," Koro began to cry more under the doctor's massaging hand.
"Where is she?"
Koro stiffened and suddenly shook the doctor's hand off.
It ran down the hall.
"Kiru, Kiru!" the dog begged him to follow.
Dr. Stylish followed without hesitation.
On his trek, it was obvious that those unfortunate souls weren't the only victims of Koro's wrath. The floor grew more and more sticky the further into the building he ran. Piles of flesh mounted over boxes and shelves. And the smell was repugnant, like a blender of moldy cheese and rotting meat. His nose, used to the smell of death, twisted from the lack of care put into the piles. The only excuse was that the creature that did this was just that, a creature, an Imperial Arm with a single-minded mission to preserve its master.
And successful it was. Dr. Stylish stopped his trek upon seeing Koro's ceasing path. He stared at him, crying and begging him to help. Dr. Stylish walked closer, and his eyes softened.
"There you are…"
Lying still, with her back facing him, was the fallen and disgraced imperial officer. The best of her year and the most shocking of crazed killers in his life.
Seryu Ubiquitous.
Dr. Stylish dared not speak, his analytical eyes scanned her body from top to bottom. The left shin and right thigh straps of her armor was missing. Her chest plate was chipped. Her orange hair was loose, greasy, and long. Her ponytail was missing. She looked slightly thinner, likely due to starvation. If the doctor had to guess, she hadn't eaten in...two–no, three days. Good lord. Was she here this whole time? Dr. Stylish looked back at the piles of flesh and blood. Three days worth…
He focused back on the fallen officer.
"Seryu?" he called. No Response. He exhaled slowly.
"Seryu!" he called again. Not even a shudder. He scratched the side of his head.
He carefully approached her body, making Koro move out of his way. The dog whimpered as the doctor investigated the girl.
Her skin was very dry, and cuts and bruises covered her arm.
"Sweetheart, it's me," he grabbed her shoulder, "It's Dr. Stylish."
He carefully turned her onto her back, and noticed that her legs were frozen in position.
"Oh…" They were hovering in midair, like a statue tipped over, "Oh dear."
He lowered the legs a bit with relative ease, and the legs maintained the position like stiff taffy. He watched them for a couple of seconds, and not a single bit of shakiness was made. He then fully placed them onto the ground.
Dr. Stylish brought his light to her face. Her eyes were hollow, her skin was pale, and her lips were chapped. It was slightly relaxed, probably due to the intense exhaustion and the malnutrition. He brought the light to her eyes and saw each of them dilate. She was alive, but he wouldn't blame anyone if they thought she was dead. Dr. Stylish turned to Koro.
"She's okay," the doctor heard Koro stop whimpering, "This is likely...catatonia."
There was one thing he could do on short notice to test this.
"Oh boy," he looked at Seryu, "I'm so sorry for this."
He raised his hand. SMACK!
Koro yelped in horror at the doctor's action, but he dared not interrupt him.
"...Yep," the wake of the slap was the sharp movement of Seryu's head from up-side to the right-side. No reaction, no squint, no yelp or cry. Catatonia.
"I'm so sorry for that, sweetheart," he grabbed her legs and upper back, "Upsy-daisy!"
He carefully lifted her up.
"There we go," he shook her a bit to get her into a better position, "Dr. Stylish has you, don't worry."
"Kiru!" Koro climbed up the doctor and hopped onto Seryu's stomach. The dog crawled by her face and snuggled next to her cheek. He looked at her worryingly.
"Alright, don't worry Seryu," Dr. Stylish began walking slowly to the entrance, "I'll...I'll take care of you."
The girl was heavier than he thought. Probably due to the things he did for her.
"I...I don't know why you went on your little spree...But I can at least get rid of the stiffness, heh?"
Seryu didn't react, but Dr. Stylish continued anyway.
"Don't worry sweetheart, I think I have just the thing to help you out."
It was something he had in storage for some time. A pet project that required some funding to complete. Maybe with Seryu's condition, and the potential to cure her, he might secure something. She was too good to replace. Not to mention, she was a very sweet girl, and Dr. Stylish couldn't imagine losing her. She was great company.
"You'll be in tip-top shape, don't worry!"
He left the building, and the fresh air smelled so sweet.