Fate: Kill

Chapter 36

Time seemed to ground to an agonizing crawl, all manner of sensation and feeling, growing muted in a figure's desperate bid to continue forward.
Nothing else existed in the figure's line of sight except for the structure ahead.
T

here was only a single lavish tent, making it fairly obvious which direction Akame should be heading in after she'd dashed past Liver. Bulat was strong. If anything, Akame was confident that he could run in the case of a confrontation with Liver. Better yet, since no bodies of water were nearby, Liver's Teigu would be largely restricted in capability, she convinced herself.
What matter now- yes what mattered now was him above the rest.
He's in there. He's in there. He has to be.
Akame barely managed to force down the urge to be impulsive and did a quick sweep of her surroundings. In that time, she concluded that there was no one else nearby that could impede her and no longer hesitated.
She dashed towards that tent faster than she'd ever run before. Her thighs ached, muscles screaming at her to slow down, but she steadfastly refused. She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat when she finally reached close enough for the tent to be in arm's reach.
It was hard to breath, tensions suffocating her like a vice.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a derisive voice was whispering to her that this could all just be an elaborate ruse, or that her rescue had come far, far too late.
She reached a hand forward, the other gripping tightly to her sword's pommel. She may not have noticed any guards, but her training as an assassin, and her own cautious take on the field was ingrained in her movements.
In the same motion of opening the tent's flaps, she bound forward and rolled to the side, entering a sword-drawing form as her red eyes assessed what was before her.
She shuddered visibly, clacking sounds echoing from her sheath courtesy of her trembling grip on its hilt.
O thank God. She sniffled; her reddened eyes not visible under the low lighting.
"Akame?" The man before her called her name out so naturally that it didn't even feel at all like he blamed her for his capture.
Shirou would have looked relatively fine through Akame's eyes if he wasn't still dirtied from the venture that he'd undertaken to come in contact with Tatsumi and Iyasu. Dried mud and grime caked his cheeks and stained the provided clothes he was wearing. Meanwhile, stubborn twigs and bramble were knotted into longer parts of his hair. There some abrasions on his face. It was almost like his face had been dragged in the dirt, which was an accurate assessment as he'd had to press his face into the ground while sneaking through Esdeath's camp. In any case, it wasn't a pretty picture, and Liver had been too preoccupied to provide Shirou with the proper supplies to clean himself with. That, and Shirou hadn't been of the mind to consider his present image. He was just relieved that his message had been able to get through.
"I'm sorry," the words left Akame's lips so fast she hardly registered them, nor how broken up they sounded.
Shirou grew taken aback, clearly noting how frail Akame seemed. Judged solely on the history of the sword Shirou had gleamed from Akame, she was a girl whose life could easily be described as a tragedy. Everything she ever held dear was deprived of her each and every time no matter how strong she got. His capture must have understandably dug up buried sentiments.
"I, I ugh," Akame kept fumbling for words, long since easing out of her guarded stance and lowering her head in guilt.
"Akame. Look at me," Shirou stepped closer.
Both he and Akame knew that this wasn't the time to be catching up, but Shirou could see that for Akame's own sake, he had to make things clear. The way she was treating him like right now lacked her usual neutral tones and subtle confidence. This was evident enough in the fact that she couldn't even meet his gaze in the way that she used to.
She was blaming herself.
There was no doubt in Shirou's mind about what she was doing.
"What are you apologizing for?" He called out, her head craning up to look at him.
It was only now that he was closer that Shirou could make out the details of Akame's features. She was utterly exhausted. Heavy bags had formed under eyes, and the pallor of her skin had grown far paler than usual accompanied by stress lines. Her hair was unkempt, her bangs damp with sweat pressing them over her forehead. Tears lined her clothes, scuffs from dirt and dried blood stains revealing a tireless pursuit of him.
"When was the last time you rested?" He asked, appalled, grabbing her by the shoulders with concern.
She didn't answer, slumping as she turned her cheek to him as if she was fine if he vented his anger out on her without resistance. What was worse was that she wasn't wrong. He was getting angry, but not for any reason Akame could surmise.
Before he could even begin to express how wrong he thought Akame was, she managed to beat him to it for once.
"I, I was the one who let you get taken away," she bowed her head, her hands coming up to clutch at Shirou's arms. "You could have died. No, you should have. It's a miracle enough that you're alive. I-I failed again when I was needed the most..."
Shirou grew frustrated. "I'm clearly fine, and aren't you the one who's come to save me now?" He stressed.
"..." Her features didn't budge an inch.
She wasn't listening. Of course, she wasn't listening. It was always the stubborn ones he had to deal with. Sadly, now really wasn't the time.
"This isn't over." Shirou promised, furrowing his brows.
"It won't happen again," this time Akame was quick to answer, irking Shirou to no end in her refusal to absolve herself of blame.
Shirou stumbled suddenly stumbled in his frustration, his weight suddenly leaning into Akame, causing the two to stagger.
Shirou grimaced.
"Sorry," he apologized. His magic expenditures both in the prior battle and his attempts to escape have drained him of his reserves. "I-"
Akame cut him off and wordlessly slung his arm over her shoulders and started hauling him forward no matter how exhausted she was.
"I'll get us out of here. I promise."
For a moment, Shirou didn't know how to feel. None of his words were getting through.
Was this how others felt when he had stubbornly continued to push himself again and again in his past life?
The feeling was unpleasant to the point he could practically hear someone yelling 'karma's a bitch!' at him.
He sighed.
.
.
.
Akame's promise was a promise that was easily followed through as the two oddly faced no opposition to their escape whatsoever.
Bulat was holding the fort better than Akame could have ever imagined. It was like she couldn't even hear the sounds of fighting.
Akame found herself nodding, and inevitably reassessed her opinion on Bulat.
The man was evidently far more capable than he seemed.
She praised him the next time they met, but the man insisted that he didn't do anything much...
Humble too, clearly.
The covert rescue attempt of Calla's young lord and the Empire's future ruler was a resounding success. Of course, a few were skeptical that no complications occurred at all, but the vast majority either didn't notice Bulat's strained features, or were too caught up in success to care.
Overwhelming relief was the sole emotion spreading through the minds of Calla and Night Raid's upper members. The situation had turned from expecting the worst, to obtaining the best. There was no way that they wouldn't be elated, especially those that viewed Shirou as the last hope of a declining Empire.
Upon Akame's return with Shirou, Najenda, Chouri, and Elaine were the first to get up onto their feet and come running. Then came Lubbock and the other members of Night Raid that had been fruitlessly scouring for Shirou's location in other Empire camps. Shirou's role was just too important to lose, both for personal and objective reasons.
Inevitably, Shirou found himself seated in a meeting room rather than on a bed in a bid to placate everyone else's concerns, much to Akame's chagrin who was butted out far to the side. To be fair, she'd had time to verify Shirou's safety while the rest were only just seeing him in person again.
The meeting room was nothing too fancy, but was rather mild. The Battle at Kalance Plains left little to be made in terms of lavishness. The make-shift room was refurbished with animal pelt rugs, courtesy of Heiwa Hunters, and a large round table which could seat up to a dozen or more people. Maps and papers were distributed to be seen by all at the center of the table while the room was composed of a large woolen tent made from the hide of a large danger beast. .
At present, Shirou could see numerous red pins on the map denoting Empire camps Elaine and the others had marked and scoured in search of his location. There were at least two dozen of them focused on individual companies of Empire troops. Then, Shirou glanced at Lubbock and the other members of Night Raid in the know of his capture, and could image the weight of their present exhaustion. Still, beyond the red pins, the blue pins which marked the same kind of Empire units were far more numerous. These points of investigation marked with a ball and sickle, or shuriken and kunai beneath the blue pins, were designated for one of Wakoku's covert forces.
Off to the side, but not fully in the meeting room, Raiko stood with her arms crossed by the corner, pouting behind her cold exterior. She still couldn't get over the fact that the Ninja's of Jinsoku had failed to locate Shirou's location despite their efforts and had lost to a pair of lucky and naive village warriors.
Raiko had feared that the impact of Shirou's capture or death would destabilize the tentative peace ushered into Wakoku. Those old bastards wouldn't sit still without Shirou's pressure. It was best to immediately consolidate and deliver the good news to dissuade those waiting for an opportunity from acting. Otherwise, she had no real place in this meeting as her people were more suited to act as shadows.
Verifying with her eyes that Wakoku's chosen star was okay, Raiko nodded and disappeared in a puff of smoke using one of Jinsoku's hidden movement skills. Inadvertently or not, her departure was like a signal.
The noise of the smoke bomb Raiko had used snapped everyone out of their worried daze. Whether it was intended or not to stop further delays, only Raiko knew.
Leone, Elaine, Chouri, Najenda, and the others seated around Shirou could no longer keep their silence.
Najenda acted first. Unlike the rest who were crowding around Shirou, Najenda had remained seated, observing him from afar. Therefore, when the sound of her chair legs creaked when she pushed out of it, the sound pierced through the calm.
Standing up, Akame, Leone, Mine, Sheele, Bulat, and Lubbock made way out of force of habit. The aura of Night Raid's leader was practically ingrained into Najenda at this point, but the same couldn't be said for those in Calla or Chouri for that matter.
Chouri stood a respectable distance from Shirou's right, neither too far or too close, just enough that Chouri's arm could reach Shirou's shoulder if he stretched it out. In comparison, Elaine was far closer, having seated herself directly next to Shirou's left and scooted her chair further still such that their thighs were almost touching.
There was an awkward mix in Elaine's concern as if she was warring between keeping her image as a steady leader, or fretting over the state of her childhood friend- No. To be frank, that was it exactly. If they were alone, Elaine may have acted different, but with her grandfather not around and through her status as a member of the Buckerfield family, she took vice-leadership over Calla's forces, and full leadership in Shirou's absence. Her reputation was hard earned, and something she was unwilling to forsake, but the problem was she valued her relationship with Shirou just as much. Hence the back and forth.
"Ms, Najenda?" Elaine greeted with a straight face while subtly patting Shirou down for any injuries. However, in front of assassin's and experienced individuals, Elaine's subtle might as well have just been blatant.
"Elaine, I'm fine," Shirou muttered, trying to place Elaine's right hand off his lap, and back to her own, fully aware everyone was staring.
Elaine scowled in response, and back handed Shirou's efforts, before moving on to scrutinize if the idiot was keeping injuries to himself again. It wouldn't the first time he'd tried that move with her by using his clothes to hide it.
Off to the side, Akame was nodding her head in approval. Knowing Shirou, she would have done the same thing. More accurately, she tried. Unlike Elaine who had no reservations with manhandling her childhood friend, Akame was still too conscious of her prior failure to force anything.
In any case, Najenda's brow twitched, her arms coming to rest by her sides as she contemplated whether or not either Chouri or Elaine could tell what they looked like? One a doting grandfather, the other painting a target on her back.
No. Nope. Enough.
Najenda had already stood up with every intention of making up for her mistake. It was only right.
She began slowly, making sure that she eliminated any notion of frivolity from those around her to not make light of the matter. Then and only then did she speak in a strong tone.
"I-"
The distinct rustle of footsteps abruptly interrupted Najenda the moment she began, ruining the tension she'd just created. She clicked her tongue and resisted the urge to spit on the floor in frustration. She was better than that, no longer as impulsive as in her army days working her way up the ranks. If anything, her glare had improved.
Too bad, glaring wouldn't deter the newest arrival in the least.
Selka hastily entered the room, eyes darting before settling on Shirou.
Knowing her, it had been odd that she hadn't come running when news spread of Shirou's successful rescue. It was clear now that there had been a reason. She was holding onto something, a type of clay jar with Heiwa's clan symbol etched on two sides. From behind her, there were sounds of protest and wolf-whistling from those of her tribal clan, but in this case, she remained unperturbed. Steadfast even.
Walking towards Shirou, and uncaring of those around him, she grabbed one of his arms.
"Selka?" Shirou startled in confusion, suddenly feeling a wet tactile sensation over the back of his right hand and parts of his forearm. "What are you doing?"
"Rubbing scent," came the curt answer.
Selka had opened the jar in her hand in front of everyone to reveal a blue ink resembling ash powder. Only Shirou could infer that finely ground Danger Beast Bones and burnt ashes were mixed into the ink. Therefore, there had to be more meaning to it for he could feel the presence of mana within the substance.
"Rubbing scent?" Shirou echoed.
"Heiwa tracker technique," Selka replied; tight-lipped, either because she didn't know the explanation herself, or had to be discreet about it.
In any case, many faces perked up at the mention of a 'tracking technique.' Shirou's capture was a wake-up call. They couldn't allow themselves to be lax in their protective detail again. Something happening to him would mean the end of the movement for change. Hope would then fall solely on the siblings left in the safety of Calla, and those two were still children. Too much could change in the years that they'd spend growing up.
A method to keep track of Shirou's whereabout sounded quite convenient to everyone's ears, despite everyone knowing how much of a breach in privacy this could be. Then again, some sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, morse so when it was done for one's wellbeing.
Shirou watched as Selka continued to paint over his skin. She'd dip her finger tips into the ink and then carefully trace symbols on him. Intwined with mana, Shirou could infer that any magus would be intrigued in the manner in which this mystery was being actualized. The way the symbols linked and interacted felt similar to runes, but the connecting patterns held relevance in magic circle theory. As for Shirou, well, it wasn't as if he was a scholar.
His focus was primarily on Selka rather than what she was drawing on him. It should have been obvious, but most magi wouldn't subject themselves to the effects of another's craft without getting an understanding of it. Shirou could understand this do the inherent danger of magecraft, but, still. He let Selka continue because he could see and feel how worried she'd been for him, just like Akame had been.
Even if this was some form of a tracking mystery, he didn't think she'd come to harm him.
In the end, Selka ended up pressing her lips to the marking she'd drawn.
"I won't leave you on your own again." The entire image shone in a dull glow, turning into a tattoo the shape of a fang. The same image then appeared on Selka's right hand, signifying a successful marking. A daze came over her features, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Now and forever," Selka whispered to herself in a ritualistic sense. However, the words were highly audible to the trained ears of assassins.
Silence stretched.
Several blinks occurred, followed by a few using a finger to pick at their ears to make sure that they'd heard right.
"Oh my," Sheele gasped, a hand coming to cover her lips.
No one else spoke for a few awkward seconds before someone decided to break the quiet.
"You know that kind of sounds like a prop-" Lubbock shut his mouth when several accusing stares leveled on him. "P-Proper course of action," he amended. "Seems useful actually. All practical, nothing personal clearly..."
Selka ended up blushing, shyly glancing down at her feet. Lubbock's initial words hadn't been far off from the mark in that it had taken considerable 'persuasion' and a little obstinance to get the matrimonial ink from her clan elders. It was an intimate and personal thing in Heiwa to constantly know the location of their partner, and as such, one normally wouldn't just tie themselves down with just anyone.
Lubbock coughed and pretended not to see Selka's reaction, going as far as to clap his hand on the table to draw subconsciously draw everyone attention towards the sound and not towards Selka. He did all this in favour of avoiding anymore interruptions to his Najenda who was starting to look more and more put out, hence he'd decided to intervene.
"Ah, I thought I saw something crawling at me," Lubbock muttered before nodding towards Najenda who opened and closed her mouth at the sloppy execution. Then again, it did its job, and even Selka had jumped in a guarded stance in surprise at the sudden loud noise.
It gave Najenda the opportunity to bring attention back on her.
"Have I been interrupted enough?" Najenda spoke with the authority of the leader of Night Raid.
Everyone quietly moved to take a seat on the table as Najenda eyed them one by one. She wouldn't allow another interruption. The shift in mood itself finally snapped Elaine back into attention with the weight of Najenda's demeanor.
Gradually, Elaine cooled her head, inched her chair further away from Shirou to a more appropriate distance, and reassumed the image of her station.
In the meantime, Najenda's focus had never left Shirou.
Finally, Najenda was back to square one, facing Shirou and standing across from him.
"It was my blunder," Najenda said in all seriousness. "You're capture was on my negligence."
Thinking back on it, before Najenda had even passed Shirou over to Akame in the final moments of the battle of Kalance plains, Najenda had already let down her guard. Victory was a drug. No matter who, the moment victory was achieved beyond all manner of a person's doubt, that person's focus would wane. Sadly, Najenda had been no different, despite keenly knowing that the most opportune moment to strike a powerful enemy was when they least expected it. She'd thought that she'd been the only one to have seen Shirou signal her to help him vacate the battlefield lest he collapsed right there and then. The fact that Akame had appeared should have sounded alarms about her prior assumption.
It was a dereliction of duty. By signalling to her, Shirou had entrusted his person with her. In the end, he must have ended up waking in the midst of the enemy camp, confused flustered and more than likely in a torture chamber for some one-on-one time with the Empire's more feared general.
"It was my fault. I made a careless slip of judgment and had allowed you to be subjected to the hands of the enemy," Najenda inclined her head deeply, hands balling into fists.
Too close. Far too close. Because of her, she'd been forced to see the light of budding hope and aspiration in the eyes of her peers dwindle into despair. No one had said anything at the time in fear of provoking a reaction, but many had already written Shirou off. Esdeath was never known for taking prisoners, let alone political ones.
"It wasn't-"
"Stop," Najenda craned her neck up and glared, eyes narrowing on Shirou who was more than willing to sweep the matter under the rug. She pursed her lips, grimacing. The look she'd shot Shirou shutting his mouth entirely. "You are too forgiving. This is a war and a battle for the future of the Empire. Mistakes can't just be written off, because they can't be taken back."
Those words rung true with Akame more than anyone else in the room. She had just as much blame as Najenda if not more. Her stomach dropped in agitation, already predicting that Shirou would try to absolve Najenda of blame like he'd tried with her.
"But you did," Shirou interjected, brows furrowing. "I'm here, aren't I?"
As she expected. Akame's brows furrowed, hands balling into fists.
"But are you really?" Najenda was far more articulate than Akame and cut straight to the point, startling Shirou.
"What does that-"
"At what cost?" Najenda sighed, frustration and self-blame clouding her features black and startling everyone else. "Not all wounds are physical, and if I know Esdeath, no one ever leaves a session with her sane. Tell me this, were you, or were you not subjected to Esdeath's advances? She'll stop at nothing to get what she wants."
'Well, when you word it like that...'
Shirou didn't know what expression he was making exactly, but in light of Najenda's words, an entirely different matter was brought up.
Suddenly, everyone stilled, their enthusiasm dying.
Like Najenda had inferred from the beginning, they'd finally realized it. On the surface, everything looked fine, and they were happy with Shirou's return. B-But knowing Shirou, he was the type to conceal his own grief if it meant keeping those around him unaffected.
That's right. Shirou wasn't just captured.
He'd been captured by Esdeath.
Intelligence of the Revolutionary Army's northern commander's mind breaking after he'd been captured by Esdeath were abound. The commander had been the north's most capable leader, hence the reason Esdeath had been dispatched there. In the end, even a hardened man like him turned no better than a kicked dog shackled in chains of ice before execution.
Suddenly, the finer Shirou 'acted,' the more convinced everyone became that he was acting strong for their sake.
"She's a sadist who's not above humiliation." Najenda scowled, only blaming herself further in the heavy air. "What inhuman things did she do to you?"
Shirou was immediately put on the spot, knowing the context of his experience was actually quite pleasant if he ignored the whole kidnapped thing. More importantly, there was no way he'd be going into detail here.
Esdeath's reputation preceded her in that there was no way Shirou could convince anyone to believe him even if he said the truth.
"T-That's kind of..." Flustered, it seemed like Shirou's intentional 'composure' finally showed signs of cracking.
Off to the side, Bulat was the only one who understood Shirou's predicament for what it was and nearly choked on his spit. Then again, no one was really paying attention to him...barring one who hummed in thought.
As for everyone else, well, their reactions varied.
"I'm right," Najenda ground out reluctantly, guilt marring her features until they twisted with indignance. It was always the good ones that suffered the most in this world, and she was the one who failed him by being inattentive at the end of a battle. "You can't even speak of it, and you have the nerve to tell me that a mistake can be taken back?!"
Akame appeared murderous, her hands balled so tightly that her nails dug into her palms and drew blood. Selka, in comparison, was already skulking towards the door to rally her fellow Hunters. Both knew that Esdeath had yet to return to her camp. They could start a massacre.
Worse, from how utterly cold Elaine's features had chilled to, she showed no signs of stopping it despite the logistic nightmare involved. Moreover, what was more important now wasn't to kill members of the Empire, but to consolidate their forces using the momentum of victory.
To act now would be a tactical error.
They must be seen as the 'just' side, not as blood-thirsty savages.
The oldest in the room had to make his presence known.
"Ahem," Chouri coughed to regather everyone's attention before they got side-tracked into planning a revenge fueled retaliation, not that it wasn't warranted. Unlike the rest however, he was the one who noted Bulat's odd reaction and felt that the situation might not have been as serious. Still, maybe he could use this to win brownie points for his granddaughter, Spear?
'No Chouri no. We need a world of honesty. No more scheming. Though, if it led to a greater good or more grandkids...' Chouri always did miss the days when Spear was an adorably tiny thing, and what grandfather wouldn't want to see his family line continue? 'No wait. She'll die. The competition's fierce. I need to up her training first.'
"-Chouri?"
Chouri shook his head, realizing that he'd succeeding in gathering everyone attention, but then blanked out there and then when he saw Bulat and Shirou let out sighs of relief. Something really was going on, wasn't there?
"Excuse me," Chouri expertly played down his little blip. "It seems that I'm truly getting old. Right then, let's get to it."
Najenda slowly nodded at Chouri suggestion and moved back into her seat, but the air itself remained charged. This issue clearly wasn't over, but Chouri didn't see it as a bad thing. They could use their emotions as motivation. Just not yet. Chouri's main priority had been to stop rash action, and that was exactly what he intended on doing.
"With the results of the battle of Kalance Plains disseminating, Honest is likely to be deeply unsettled," Chouri began. He then straightened his posture and looked at everyone in earnest. "He'll struggle with keeping the Empire's loyalists under control, all while trying to keep the Child Emperor in the dark for as long as possible. The only force he can likely rely on will be his own powerbase. So, the question now is, if we were Honest, what would we do?"
Chouri raised two fingers. "One, a smearing campaign to rile the sentiments of the masses against us, and two, the immediate elimination of Shirou here. Moreover, the fact that Shirou lived through his encounter with Esdeath may indicate differences in opinion between her and Honest."
Shirou found himself inwardly nodding. Esdeath had kept him inside her personal tent and away from the main army camp to avoid word of his capture spreading. Her reasons were more personal and-
"We can use this," Chouri interrupted Shirou's trail of thought. Chouri's eyes twinkled with the light of mischief. "Contrary to his name, Honest is not a very trusting person. What he trusts is what he can manipulate or understand. Ms. Najenda, what do you know of Esdeath's personality?"
Najenda snorted before crossing her arms and answering. "A pyscho more alive in a battlefield than anywhere else. Point, and there the bitch goes. Her loyalties are to herself."
"Exactly," Chouri echoed. "And Honest knows this. He's comfortable with this, as he need only provide Esdeath a stage she's more than willing to jump into...then what if that suddenly changed?"
Najenda perked up at around the same time Elaine did, the two catching on quickly. No one was comfortable with unexpected change, let alone someone who doesn't trust easily.
"We don't know why, or what Esdeath's intentions were, but it doesn't matter. We don't have to care so long as just Honest does." Chouri grinned. "With this instance, a seed can be sown. Will you really ruin this opportunity now for the satisfaction of a quick vengeance, or would you rather play more long term?"
Najenda rapt her finger over the table in thought, while Elaine bit the nail of her thumb.
Their silence was their agreement.
'Completed.' Chouri inwardly patted himself on the back, and decided to move on.
"Next, to counter a potential smear campaign, it's actually quite easy." Staring at Shirou, Chouri nodded sagely. "Well, the Hero King can't stay in hiding now, can he?"
Shirou's sudden absence in the victory of Kalance Plains was starting to draw suspicion. As such, Chouri directly hinted that Shirou should appear and absolve those suspicions before they could become damaging. However, this alone wouldn't be enough to sway public opinion throughout the Empire.
No, Chouri was thinking bigger.
"Let us form an Order upheld by oaths, righteousness, and our hopes for the kingdom," he boldly declared.
"Sounds way too cheesy," Lubbock cringed in reply, but Chouri merely chuckled.
"Indeed, it's quite cheesy. A mouthful even," Chouri's chuckling turned into an old grandfather's sunny disposition. "Yet it will be a beacon that will rally the stalwart in these dark times of strife and hardship."
Chouri beat a hand over his chest, growing more heated, devote.
"They will be champions of the just, protectors of the innocent, keepers of fair law and order!"
The words resonated, speaking past everyone's natural pessimism and striking at their core in a way only possible when they'd been naïve children. The innocent thoughts and positive outlooks on the world buried within each and every one of them began to stir.
"A company bearing the title of 'Knights' like in the days where honour prevailed over deceit and corruption!"
Chouri paused, staring at everyone's faces before grinning like the old man and former minister he was.
Shirou could predict the coming words. Chouri was almost as fluent as a certain court wizard.
"Let us call it-"
Shirou glanced at the shape of the table that they were all seated over.
"The Knights of the Round."
By the time everyone began to file out of the meeting room lost in their own thoughts, Shirou lingered behind. Of course, many tried to stay with him to ease and comfort him from whatever 'harrowing' ordeal he'd endured, but oddly enough, Shirou was strangely defensive about it, and insisted on being left alone for a bit.
A man's pride or something? The kind where you only cry alone in the washroom?
Leone snorted, but in a similar vein, she could respect Shirou's choice and ended up grabbing Akame and Selka by the scruff of their necks and dragged them out like the mature big sister figure she was. If she had had to activate her Teigu when her 'little sisters' struggled and thrashed against her, well; Selka honestly managed to overpower her until Lubbock bound her wrists and ankles with his Teigu and helped, too tired to care about Selka glaring at him.
Lubbock, like many members of Night Raid and Calla in the know of Shirou's capture, had mobilized and tirelessly scoured through the Empire forces in search. Not even when Leone brought Tatsumi back with a lead on Shirou's whereabouts did they get to rest. No. To be more accurate, none of them permitted themselves to rest until they'd secured their country's future.
Now that Shirou was safe, Lubbock had had enough of putting up with his exhaustion. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and the same could be said for Najenda and the others. If Shirou asked to be left alone in order to deal with his trauma himself, then let the man do what he wanted. Anyone could relate.
Dragging the two most troublesome ones out, Leone and Lubbock exited the room, followed shortly by Bulat, Mine, Najenda, and an optimistically grinning Chouri already envisioning the future.
Elaine was the last to leave, hesitating with herself, before sighing and reluctantly leaving when Shirou nodded to her with a wry smile, not noticing that the expression only troubled Elaine more. In the end, she left.
Shirou just had too much to think about to worry about assuaging the misconception everyone had arrived at in the meeting.
Sighing, Shirou eased his back into the seat he was sitting on, and rolled his head back to stare up at the ceiling. Enemy, foe, right or wrong, what should be done from here? Who could he save? Just the thought of weighing the lives of others left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"-That's hell you're walking into."
Words spoken so long ago rung in his mind, reminding him of the choices of the past.
Calm. Tranquil. He scowled, trying to focus and regather himself.
A sword is neither good nor evil, but something that solely holds true to its purpose.
'With these hands that can never hold anything...'
Gradually, his features eased, his eyes closing and opening to reveal resolution on this familiar road.
What this land needed was an ideal ruler in the same way Saber's land had required of her, an ideal King. The parallels, the similarities, it was no wonder she had been summoned to his side beyond the use of a catalyst.
The path, the road, the trail, it was uncanny, and in a way, the surest route of confidence where a future for the people can be envisioned. The steps he needed to walk, to tread, had already been trodden with the image of the undefeated King in his heart.
But just like her who brought about the peak glory of the divine right of kings, in the end what paved the way beyond that age was...
Shirou let out a breath, but his eyes remained firm. Not a fleck of hesitation marred his determination.
What he had to do, hadn't changed, and so he'd continue on her road.
Lost in his thoughts, it was only when the sound of rustling flaps sounded in his ears that Shirou glanced towards the entrance of the room where a large figure awkwardly made his way in. There was no way the man could fail to be recognized from his iconic pompadour, robust build, and earnest attitude.
"Bulat?" Shirou called out when he observed the man before him. He'd called out just to make sure, but he was having doubts.
After all, Bulat was acting kind of strange, almost jittery from a man supposedly former military.
Before entering the room, Bulat tentatively scrutinized the dark areas and blindspots in the room; all places Shirou noted where Akame would generally reside when she was shadowing him as a protective detail. Then, just to make sure, Bulat kept looking behind him, making sure to be well out of sight from Heiwa's Hunters whose boisterous laughter could be heard echoing outside through camp.
Why was Bulat acting like this? So wary as if he was standing on pins and needles.
"Good. They're not here..." Bulat muttered more to himself than Shirou who perked up as he connected the dots.
From the looks of things, Bulat must have wanted to discuss something important under his confidence. Leaning forward in his chair, Shirou shook off his idle thoughts and gestured for Bulat to take any of the seats across or beside him.
Nervously, Bulat did so, all but confirming that he did in fact have something he wished to personally disclose.
Shirou gave his full undivided attention, but faltered when he realized just what Bulat knew but didn't share with the others.
"So ugh," Bulat seemed to squirm as he forced the words out with a strained nice guy smile that barely reached his ears. "You and Esdeath? Ignoring everything else, the bit- the woman's a beauty? W-What a great catch, huh?"
Shirou blinked.
"Excuse me?"
Bulat's features flushed red in shame, head darting to look over his back in case anyone else had heard. Unable to bear the embarrassment, Bulat's bear-like form slumped into a demure hunch before he chose to move to gestures instead. It was safer as no one could hear it.
Making a circle with his index finger and thumb on his left hand, he mouthed 'Esdeath,' before taking the index and middle finger of his right hand, and piston pumping it through the hole created on his left and making soft smacking noises.
"F-For the Empire..." Bulat could barely stutter out, but a promise was a promise.
He gave a shaky thumbs up.
There goes his image.
'General...I hate you.'
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