warintheextreme: (05)
[personal profile] warintheextreme posting in [community profile] zawamecity
I'm an intelligent enough man to know I don't deserve to be alive.

I remember dying at the hands of Kumon Kaito. I remember the fall, and in fact, I even remember the impact. And I remember that, for everything and all of it, I deserved it.

There would be a new world, when someone found the Forbidden Fruit that Takatsukasa Mai had escaped with. I wasn't going to be a part of it, or so I thought.

The waking was... slow, and painful, and I deserved every moment of that, as well.

I don't deserve this new world, with it's new god, though I was the only one who knew for sure that this was the inevitable end.

Of course, it would have had to have been Kazuraba Kouta who would share the power of the Fruit with Mai-kun. If the power had been granted to Kumon Kaito, well. I certainly would not be waking up in this new world.

I was given a task, and with it told that it was the best way to atone for my sins- of which there are plenty, particularly when you consider 'sin' at it's most basic definition as the defiance of god's will, and here is a god in front of me who I manipulated and thwarted at many turns.

So, I have returned to my most basic of tasks from before the end and the new beginning- technology development. The Drivers had nearly all been destroyed in the climax of the old world, but Kouta would like them to be created once more.

It is with this done, and a Melon Lockseed in hand, that I venture out of my lab for the first time in... Since waking. Kouta is coming to meet me, or so he has said, to retrieve the Drive for Takatora- who I must admit, I am glad he's alive, despite everything.

Date: 2015-02-02 02:25 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
The last voice I ever expected to hear again is suddenly very close behind me, and it's so abrupt, so out of place, that I barely even register it as familiar for a moment.

But how could I forget that voice. Even only having spoken one word, I know who it is. I listened to that voice ramble on for over half my lifetime, once trusted its owner with not only my life, but the very survival of humanity.

A trust that I later learned, and learned the hard way, was deeply misplaced.

I turn a moment after Kazuraba, my posture rigid once again, my hands curling to fists in my coat pockets. I hope for a moment that I am mistaken, that I merely misheard the voice as the one belonging to my oldest friend and the man that tried to kill me.

But there is no mistaking that face, those clothes, and that posture. His hair is longer now, and he seems somehow even more thin and malnourished that before.

But he is very clearly alive.

"Ryouma," My voice is a strange mix of deadpan and a growl, and I stand wavering, torn between wanting to lunge at him, and wanting to turn around and swiftly return home.

Date: 2015-02-02 06:09 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
A dozen things rush through my head, a dozen things I could say right now, to the man that was once my dearest friend and most trusted ally, to the man that tried to have me killed, to the man that, as I learned later through tearful conversations with Mitsuzane, killed an innocent girl just so he could take the golden fruit for his own.

I stare at him when he speaks. I do not look at Kazuraba, but I can sense that his posture is mostly relaxed, that he doesn't feel Ryouma is here as a threat. In fact he is probably the reason that we have met in such a way today.

After a very long pause I take the case from Ryouma's hand. I don't have to look at it to know what it is, and to guess at what it contains. I carried a case of exactly the same shape and weight for so long because of him, because I refused to allow anyone else to be the first test subject for the Sengoku Drivers.

I don't look at the case, I just hand it off to Kazuraba, and then step forward to grab Ryouma by the collar of his consultation coat, yanking him forward until our faces are mere centimeters apart.

There is something different about him, something different in his eyes. Or rather, something deeply familiar, something I have't seen since long before his betrayal, since long before we began distributing the Sengoku Drivers.

"Ryouma." I let out a shaky breath, and drop my grip on his collar. My arms move to embrace him, and I wrap him up in a fierce hug, my cheek against his temple. I speak softly near his ear, my voice pained. "I thought you were dead."

I can't imagine he understands the weight of meaning behind my words, the layers to my statement, but I can't find the will to elaborate further just now.

Date: 2015-02-05 04:55 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
I do not wish to let go of him. If I let go of him, I may learn that this is a hoax, a foul trick played upon me, or that I am dreaming. I've had so many strange dreams since falling into my coma, both during, and then after waking...

But as long as I keep my arms around him I can believe that this is real. That he is real.

Eventually my upbringing gets the better of me, and I gradually pull back. I keep him at arm's length for a moment, searching his eyes once more, just to be sure, to be certain I am not mistaken in what I am seeing.

Finally I release him fully, and flex my hands at my sides.

"Well enough," I say this with a small laugh, breathless relief no doubt coming through in my voice. "Though I'm still recovering from the most severe of my injuries."

The ones from Mitsuzane, I think, but don't say. I do not wish to dig that up yet, eventually, but not now.

"And you?" I slide one hand into my pocket, trying my hardest not to stare at Ryouma, to take in every inch of him.

Where have you been? What were you doing? Why are you here now? Why didn't you find me sooner?

Why have to remade my driver?

Date: 2015-02-08 05:56 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
I nod at this. I know he had vast resources at his disposal, many even I did not know about, he obviously had some means of either fleeing the city, or keeping himself safe from Helheim during the final battles - of which I am still piecing together the details of, from various first hand accounts. There is much I still do not know.

"Where have you been since then?" I glance over at Kazuraba, still holding the case with contents I'm not sure I wish to address yet, but know that I need to.

I glance back at Ryouma, and gesture at the case. "And why have you rebuilt my Sengoku Driver?"

Date: 2015-02-08 08:04 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
Hopefully more admirable independent projects than you previously engaged in I think before mentally scolding myself. There is still bitterness, still the lingering aftershocks of anger, borne from his betrayal and his deceit. I need to - I wish to - trust him as I once did. Perhaps even more, now that we have been through so much, both together and apart.

So I simply give his words a small nod, and a low sound of understanding.

I do not understand why I myself specifically need to be the one to have my driver remade. I was not the most admirable of the Armored Riders. I made mistakes, so many mistakes. There are others, Kazuraba most notably, who would be better suited to have their driver returned to them.

"I'm not certain I'm strong enough for it anymore." I still suffer from headaches, bouts of dizziness, and fatigue from my time in my coma. And there are lingering pains, occasional stiffness in my shoulder, in my back, from my... fall.

Date: 2015-02-14 08:24 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
I glance at Kazuraba, offering him a small smile and trying to keep my weariness from bleeding into it. Knowing he has his driver is reassuring; there are few I trust as much as I now trust him. Real trust, not the blind trust I once placed in so many people that proved unworthy of it.

I look back to Ryouma, and he really does look like the Ryouma I once considered my dearest friend, my closest companion, and the keeper of my secrets. Minus the glasses, add in some age and weariness, but still so very similar.

I wonder how I appear to him.

"Ryouma," I move to take a step close to him, but stop myself. I'm not sure what I was about to say, what I want to say, or what I need to say.

"It is good to see you again." I settle on that, it's not untrue, and it is the easiest thing for me to get out at the moment, especially with Kazuraba near.

Not that his presence is unwanted, but there is... well he doesn't need to be exposed to all my awkwardness, and all the baggage I am Ryouma carry.

Date: 2015-02-15 05:07 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
I don't miss the way Ryouma is eyeing Kazuraba, but I'm not sure if it is something I should speculate on, or if it is my place to question it. This is not an area where I posses any sort of authority.

"Ryouma," I speak before I can think on it, and then pause for just a moment to consider. I don't want him to leave, not when I've just found him - him - again. "Please wait."

I move back to Kazuraba, taking the case containing my reconstructed driver from him and giving him a respectful bow. "I may have to cut out time together short for now. Shall we meet at our usual time at Drupers tomorrow to discuss the progress of reconstruction project?"

With that settled, I turn back to Ryouma, doing my best to meet his eyes, though I'm not sure I properly succeed.

I gesture with the driver case, my voice quiet. "I wish to have you present the first time I test out this new driver."

Date: 2015-02-26 04:01 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] zangetsurider
I give Kazuraba a small, soft laugh. "That's perfectly alright - and you don't have to ask to visit, you know you're always welcome at our home. Mitsuzane would enjoy seeing you, though please do take care not to catch his cold, and remind him to keep drinking fluids."

I'm fussing, but I have a feeling Kazuraba understands why I feel extra protective and concerned about Mitsuzane recently.

With Kazuraba gone, I turn back to Ryouma.

There is hesitance radiating from him. Good. I much prefer him to be cautious now than blindly confident.

"You said you corrected many of the errors of the original ones," I give him a slightly raised eyebrow, not meant to be judgmental, but meant in the way it used to between us, when we were still friends. When we were more than friends.

I glance down at the case, feeling the shape of the handle heavily against my palm. "It wouldn't feel right activating it for the first time without you there."

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