|Together| Kenji Kishimoto x Reader

| 19 |

We are running. Kenji is in the lead, with Aaron over his shoulder, and Kent is pulling me along.

"Where are Ian and Emory?" Juliette shouts over the madness. I can't hear him reply. I see her look to a figure standing in the middle. A cyclone blowing around him, made of tons of things. And at once everything drops so suddenly. I can hear the cries of the Sector 45 soldiers and I see them retreat. Kent drops my arm and goes to Juliette. She's telling them something I can't hear. Then she drops to the ground and the earth shatters under her. Everything is shaking and the ground has been spilt open, right down the middle of the battlefield. Kent runs to the man in the middle and tackles him to the ground. I'm being pulled along by someone I don't know. Kenji isn't with us. I look back to see him, Juliette and my brother still standing there.

Sudenly Kenji yanks her up and they both start running towards us. I'm shoved into a tank and before I can get up someone jumps in after. I scramble out of the way and a few others follow us in. Juliette and Kenji are the last ones. I'm shoved into a corner while my brother is laid out on Kent and Juliette's laps. Thye both look uncomfortable. I'm about to offer to switch with one of them when Kenji starts talking.

"Hang tight, guys, I know this is about a million different kinds of weird, but I didn't exactly have enough time to think of a better plan."

"I'm so happy you guys are okay." Juliette says. "I'm so, so happy you're okay."

For a moment no one says anything.

"How are you feeling?" Kent starts fussing over Juliette. "Your arm—you're all right?

"Yeah, I'm okay. These gloves and this metal thing actually helped, I think. Nothing is broken."

"That was pretty badass," Kenji tells her. "You really saved us back there."

She shakes her head. "Kenji, I'm really sorry about what happened in the house, I'm sorry, I-"

"Hey, how about let's not talk about that right now."

"What's going on?" Kent asks, alert. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Kenji says quickly.

Kent ignores him. Looks at her. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I just—I j-just—" She struggles to speak. "What happened—with Warner's da—"

"God." Kenji says, loudly. I remember what Kent had said before we left the house. He looks as if he's about to throw up.

"Listen ..." Kenji clears his throat. "We don't have to talk about that, okay? In fact, I think I might rather not talk about that? Because that shit is just too weird for me to—"

"I don't know how it's even possible," Kent whispers. "I keep thinking I must be dreaming," he says, "that I'm just hallucinating this whole thing. But then"—he drops his head in his hands, laughs a harsh laugh—"that is one face I will never forget."

"Didn't—didn't you ever meet the supreme commander?" she asks him. "Or even see a picture of him ...? Isn't that something you'd see in the army?"

Kenji and Kent shake their heads.

"His whole kick was always being, like, invisible. He got some sick thrill out of being this unseen power." Kenji says.

"Fear of the unknown?"

"Something like that, yeah. I heard he didn't want his pictures anywhere—didn't make any public speeches, either—because he thought if people could put a face on him, it would make him vulnerable. Human. And he always got his thrills from scaring the shit out of everyone. Being the ultimate power. The ultimate threat. Like—how can you fight something if you can't even see it? Can't even find it?"

"That's why it was such a big deal for him to be here," She realizes out loud. He never came out to see us at our sector. Never once visited, even when mom got worse. He just didn't care. He loved being this unknown force that people would fear.

"Pretty much."

"But you thought your dad was dead," She says to Kent. "I thought you said he was dead?"

"Just so you guys know," Kenji interjects, "I'm still voting for the we don't have to talk about this option. You know. Just so you know. Just putting that out there."

"I thought he was," Kent says. "That's what they told me."

"I thought he was," Adam says, still not looking at me. "That's what they told me."

"Who did?" Kenji asks. Catches himself. Winces. "Shit. Fine. Fine. I'm curious."

"It's all starting to come together now. All the things I didn't understand. How messed up my life was with James. After my mom died, my dad was never around unless he wanted to get drunk and beat the crap out of someone. I guess he was living a completely different life somewhere else. That's why he used to leave me and James alone all the time." He says.

"That's horrible." I whisper under my breath. I pull my knees to my chest. I think they've forgotten I'm here.

"But that doesn't make sense," Kenji says. "I mean, not the parts about your dad being a dick, but just, like, the whole scope of it. Because if you, Warner, and Y/n are siblings, and you're eighteen, and Y/n and Warner are nineteen, and Anderson has always been married to their mom—"

"My parents were never married."

"You were the love child?" Kenji says, disgusted. "I mean—you know, no offense to you—it's just, I do not want to think about Anderson having some kind of passionate love affair. That is just sick."

"Holy shit," Kent whispers.

"But I mean, why even have a love affair?" Kenji asks. "I never understood that kind of crap. If you're not happy, just leave. Don't cheat. Doesn't take a genius to figure that shit out. I mean"—he hesitates—"I'm assuming it was a love affair," Kenji says, still driving and unable to see the look on Adam's face. "Maybe it wasn't a love affair. Maybe it was just another dude-being-a-jackass kind of th—" He catches himself, cringes. "Shit. See, this is why I do not talk to people about their personal problems—"

"You talked to me about my problems, though." I interject. Everybody stares at me, even Kenji, who's driving.

"Sorry." I say. They continue their conversation.

"It was," Kent says, barely breathing now. "I have no idea why he never married her, but I know he loved my mom. He never gave a damn about the rest of us," he says. "Just her. It was always about her. Everything was about her. The few times a month he was ever at home, I was always supposed to stay in my room. I was supposed to be very quiet. I had to knock on my own door and get permission before I could come out, even just to use the bathroom. And he used to get pissed whenever my mom would let me out. He didn't want to see me unless he had to. My mom had to sneak me my dinner just so he wouldn't go nuts about how she was feeding me too much and not saving anything for herself," he says and shakes his head. "And he was even worse when James was born. And then when she died," he says, taking a deep breath, "when she died all he ever did was blame me for her death. He always told me it was my fault she got sick, and it was my fault she died. That I needed too much, that she didn't eat enough, that she got weak because she was too busy taking care of us, giving food to us, giving ... everything to us. To me and James." His eyebrows pull together. "And I believed him for so long. I figured that was why he left all the time. I thought it was some kind of punishment. I thought I deserved it."

I tuned out the rest of their conversation. I never wanted to believe that my father could be that horrible, I always knew but I didn't want to believe it.

When we get to the base they blindfold me and take me down a series of hallways. I'm careful to memorize the turns we take. Whoever took me down here has stopped walking. I hear the click of a door mechanism unlocking and they throw me into a room. My blindfold is taken off and the door behind me closes. I open my eyes, the room is small, there are no windows. It's small and no one is here with me. My head is pounding and the room is spinning. Suddenly everything goes black.