Chapter Text
Humans were, Takumi mused, a superbly adaptable species.
No matter what sort of cruel, paradigm shifting or just bizarre incident occurred, people just flailed about a bit and then went on with their lives. Many times since he had been sent to the Last Defence Academy, he had thought this will surely change everything and witnessed this phenomenon himself. The mind went around the foreign object like water in a stream, and just kept on going. What changed was the thing that changed, and all the rest of it kept going as it had before.
Granted, maybe his budding relationship with Yugamu wasn’t the sort of world-altering event to the others as it was for him, but he still thought it should have made a bigger splash in their little community, damn it. To match with his own sense of this will surely change everything, if nothing else.
Takemaru had given him a one-armed hug and hearty congratulations. Gaku made a vaguely disgusted face but, in the end, pressed Takumi to tell him immediately when they wanted to have an engagement party, which, way too soon.
Moko had chided Gaku immediately because, apparently, ‘True love cannot be charged for an easy takedown; it’s an endurance battle!’
Ima had offered to give him tips for.. something or another, which he was definitely not interested in, for so many different reasons.
Kurara was perhaps a bit surprised; it was hard to tell with the mask on. She declared herself satisfied that Takumi’s ‘perverse gaze had moved on from Nozomi’.
Nozomi herself had smiled gently and sincerely, expressing how happy he was for them. For both of them. She had made Takumi promise to treat Yugamu well, which was in his mind a little backwards, but then again Yugamu was one of her team mates from the Second to last Defense Academy. She, or this version of her at least, has known Yugamu longer than him.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Yugamu slurred lazily against his neck, half-asleep.
Takumi snuck a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, scratching the scalp. “That we have great friends. Don’t go to sleep,” he chided, “we have to get up for dinner soon.”
The afternoon nap in his room had turned into an afternoon making out and then a little bit of something extra. ‘Work hard, play hard’ was how Takumi justified it to himself. And only to himself, as the other would probably take it to mean that if he worked harder still, they could also play harder.
Takumi didn’t think his body could take that.
Yugamu answered with a non-commital grunt that very much bore the spirit of ‘five more minutes, please.’
Takumi slowly let his fingers travel lower, scraping against scratches and gashes on Yugamu’s back, pulling out a pleased hmmm before wrapping his arms around him securely, tucking the other firmly against his chest. He held him tightly, one arm around his body, the other hand coming up to gently press Yugamu’s head against his shoulder. He felt Yugamu's body go pliant in his hold, a soft, contented sigh escaping his lips.
Takumi was still sometimes unsure how to best meet Yugamu’s needs - he was unsure if Yugamu himself knew how to meet all of Yugamu’s needs - but he’d come to understand that it wasn’t all one dimension, one note. The other definitely seeked out prolonged pain and extreme self-mutilation, and revelled in them, but that didn’t mean that the opposite was unwanted. He’d learned, for instance, that after Yugamu had found the release he sought, he craved a specific kind of comfort that was a stark contradiction to the usual persona he put forward.
Yugamu loved to be held. Not with a tentative, afraid touch, but with a fierce, encompassing grip that anchored him in place. He yearned for Takumi’s gentle hands in the aftermath of pain. Takumi still tended to his wounds, sometimes, at least the smaller ones. He liked to think he had gotten better, even if Yugamus still looked at his bandaging like a parent trying to say something nice about their child’s drawing.
The assassin had made an invitation for him to partake in the mutilation part of the equation as well, perhaps more out of habit than anything else, and was as surprised as Takumi when the redhead had not declined outright.
“You do have that long, thick, lovely sword to go with you class armour,” Yugamu purred at his ear, taking small nips at his neck. “And it’s not just metal, it’s a part of you. Your will. Isn’t that exciting?”
Takumi could feel the entire length of the assassin's form pressed against him. His own body shivering and getting all excited all over again, even after what they had just finished doing.
“Just thinking those bastard invaders get to feel it running through them and I don’t… the world is such an unjust place. How about it?” Yugamu followed the small teeth marks with his tongue, making Takumi squirm. “One more way to take me, ah, all the way to the hilt.”
“I don’t think it’s any thicker than a usual sword,” Takumi answered dryly, or tried to, it came out somewhat breathless. Yugamu was insatiable, a side effect of having all sorts of unusual and unsated desires probably, but it’s not like Takumi was any better. Even the odd pillow talk wasn’t a turnoff, and wasn’t that just something. “Would you… would you really like that?”
Yugamu’s moves stilled. Shocked, he propped himself to take a better look at Takumi. The redhead was averting his eyes. “I would,” Yugamu said slowly, “but it’s really alright if you don’t want to. I’m just running my mouth. Whatever you are comfortable with will always be enough for me.”
Takumi thought about it. Really thought about it. How it would feel to hold the blade and to pierce the skin of another being with no intent to kill. Not a quick stab, but a slow and steady glide, slicing through the skin and sinking into the flesh of someone he felt so, so much for.
He felt torn. One half of him, the sensible, rational side recoiled in visceral horror. The idea of deliberately causing that amount of pain, of holding a blade to Yugamu's chest, was anathema to every fiber of his being. It felt like a betrayal of his most fundamental role as a partner, a betrayal of the protective instincts that had made him reach his hand toward Yugamu in the first place.
But then again, it was Yugamu. The image in his mind shifted. He was still holding the sword, but the focus was now on Yugamu himself, not the stabbing. He imagined how his breath would catch in his throat, what would he look like, what would he sound like, in that moment, finally pleasured and satisfied with the way he wanted to and the rest of the world scorned but he, Takumi, could alone give him-
He cut the train of thought short before it could run completely wild and destroy all his good sense. “Those things are important to you,” he stated. “I want to take them seriously. I want to be the one who gives it to you.”
He was asking for Takumi to step into his world, to participate in his most intimate, personal ritual. It was a sign of immense trust, a profound invitation to a part of Yugamu’s soul that no one else had access to.
Besides, it wasn’t like seeing Yugamu writhe in ecstasy in his arms was a chore. And if that took some unconventional means, well, maybe he was better at that than first aid.
Yugamu’s lips curved into a small, fond smile. “It’s a big part of me,” he acknowledged. “But not everything. It’s how I feel things most purely, and I want to share that with you, but not at the cost of your peace.” The assassin sealed his reassurance with a gentle, firm kiss - no force behind, no hint of teeth.
Takumi melted under the attention. It was good, so good, to have his adoration mirrored back to him. At the beginning, he had seen himself as the one doing the learning, trying to understand a person who was so different from him. The reality of it was that they had both discovered new things about each other, and of themselves.
One thing his new lover definitely wasn’t, was judgemental. Yugamu, with his bizarre philosophy and unnerving hobbies, didn’t have much use for a concept of normalcy. He didn’t have the slightest care if Takumi’s wants were strange or dirty or taboo, he was ready to try everything that Takumi even hinted, or even thought about in passing, could bring him pleasure. It was all new, yes, but less like charting an unmapped territory, and more like choosing qualifications for a one of a kind, luxury product with a very eager assistant.
His hands, with their unnaturally long reach, could be everywhere on his body all at once. His tongue was longer than normal, and Takumi had no idea how that one was useful for an assassin but the way he could lick, kiss, use it on every sensitive inch on his body and push inside him-
“If you are still thinking about our good friends, Takumi, I’m getting more and more curious what exactly that entails.”
Takumi awakened from his half-memory, half-daydream to the Yugamu of the present sliding a thigh between his legs, dragging pointedly against his growing hardness.
“No, that was all you,” he answered honestly.
They have tried a lot of new things since then. Takumi had not yet discovered in himself a nerve to run Yugamu through with his sword, and maybe never would, but he nowadays filed his nails to be sharper instead of duller, and had learned the difference between strangulation and asphyxiation and had partaken in recreational drug use for sexual purposes.
God, if his mom knew these things.
It was their twenty-first day at the Last Defense Academy. Three weeks. Yet, it felt like a lifetime. This had never felt awkward or rushed to him. Only right.
He hoped the rightness he felt was because of fate or love or something of that sort, not his time travel. So Yugamu would feel it too.
“Oh?” Yugamu suddenly seemed a lot more alert. Unsurprisingly, Takumi’s sex ponderings were a lot more interesting to him than food. “Then you absolutely need to tell me more.”
They didn’t make it to dinner in time.
“Please… don’t kill me….”
The way Eva begged for her life, hands clasped tightly in front of chest, hadn’t changed in the slightest from the last time around. The understanding of their language and the core tenets of their religion - hell, even the fact they even had religion - was the thing that changed everything.
Takumi watched his teammates take in Eva’s teary face along with her terrified pleas. Hiruko was not convinced in the slightest, Shoma was aghast at the prospect of harming someone so vulnerable and defeated. The reactions of others fell somewhere between the two extremes, doubt and unease flickering in their voices and expressions.
“There is no way we can trust this one.”
And then there was Sirei, taking a decisive stance that no enemy should be left alive, in any situation, no further considerations needed and no mitigating circumstances existing.
“This is an enemy commander we are talking about. She’ll kill you all the first chance she gets.”
Takumi sighed. There was no way to tell if that was true, and no way to tell if it wasn’t. It all came back to taking the appropriate level of risk for the right reward… and whether they could all hang onto their humanity while doing it.
For all his programmed Sirei was nothing but a machine and had no moral reservations to think of. He was worth listening to from the tactical perspective, but otherwise Takumi felt they should and could discard his opinion in matters such as this.
The sentiment for saving versus killing Eva was close to even split. Takumi cast a glance at Yugamu.
The assassin was eyeing Eva with interest, one visible eye tracking the human features of her face and form almost lustily, but Takumi knew from experience that this particular expression was more of an extreme curiosity.
In the previous timeline Yugamu had, secretively and pressed for time, made an anti-commander drug which had proved extremely useful. Now Takumi had a better understanding of the true scope of the other’s expertise than last time. What else could he provide for them, given proper time and support from the team? And there were all the additional things they could learn from the Invader culture to consider, as well.
“No. We won’t kill her.” Takumi hoped his voice sounded decisive. “Let’s take her prisoner, like before.”
Kurara shrieked with indignation, but was swiftly soothed by Nozomi. The greater hurdle was Hiruko, who gave him a calculating stare.
“Are you sure about this?” She asked, arms crossed against her chest. Her words respected her leadership, but her body language demanded explanation. “This could end badly.”
“I know, but I can’t bring myself to kill someone who is this desperate to live.” Takumi said wearyly. “It wouldn’t do any good to us, to any of us, to look directly into her eyes and see nothing but a resource to draw more strength from. Someday this war will end, and we have to live with ourselves after.”
Yugamu tore his eyes away from Eva to look at Takumi, expression unreadable. Takumi fought down a small wince. He hadn’t meant to imply anything about anyone’s past, but… Now was not the time, but he’d certainly need to apologize for Yugamu later.
At the end, everyone agreed to saving Eva - some more grudgingly than others. Even Sirei was brought into the fold, and he arranged for Eva to be transferred into one of the courtyard cages, as well as some ‘additional support’ whatever that meant.
Surely this time, saving a life could bring only good things.
His feet felt less like feet and more like boots filled with lead, but instead making his way to his own room, Takumi dragged his body to Yugamu’s door instead.
“Takumi? You look like a wandering corpse… and not in a good way.”
Yugamu was visibly surprised. They had agreed to just go to their own rooms after training or fighting - the times the both of them needed the most rest and lack of it would definitely show. That was the sort of thing their commanding robot officer would definitely hone in to, even if he had so far pretended not to know anything about their relationship.
“Is there a good way to look like a corpse?” Takumi looked around. No one was there, but still. “Can I come inside? I’ll make it quick.”
Yugamu stepped aside to let him in. As soon as the door closed behind him, Takumi started to reflexively bow, then decided the gesture was too formal and aborted it halfway, placing his hands on Yugamu’s shoulders instead, to try and convey he was serious about what he was about to say.
The end result was him awkwardly hunched and grabbing his lover from a low angle. When Takumi raised his eyes, the assassin was looking at him with a bewildred interest. Like he had opened a television to a really strange scene and was waiting if what came next provided any context.
Taku realised he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. One large, black pupil leaving only little white to the side was staring at him curiously, next to the usually visible, more normal blue eye. The room was already dark and Yugamu had shed his hakama for nightwear. Takumi had probably caught him just before he went to bed.
“The manhandling is, as always, very much appreciated, but you look like you are about to say something.” Yugamy prompted gently.
“I’m sorry,” Takumi blurted. “About what I said out there.”
Yugamu blinked and looked into the distance, a mental radar searching for something strange or unusual. “I’m not sure what you are referring to.”
Takumi squirmed. “Like… that we have to live with ourselves, after. I didn’t imply that you were somehow,” oh god, maybe he should not have come here, “more ruined, than the rest of us? Because of how you have lived? I just know it has been hard. I don’t want it to be even harder. For anyone.”
Yugamu stopped the stream of his verbal vomit by placing a finger on the redhead’s lips. “Ah, I see. You shouldn’t have worried, cutie, I was not hurt. I was simply thinking how your darling bleeding heart sees us, hmm.” he taps his chin, “what would be a suitable synonym for a monster that would not upset you? Let’s call us the callous ones.”
“Next time you shouldn’t say that part aloud if you want to nullify my upset, but I appreciate the effort.” Takumi frowned. “You seem to be thinking of multiple people.”
“Myself, Shizuhara-san and Tsukumo Ima.” Yugamu confirmed. “Even if it feels a little harsh to include one of our youngest members, I know one when I see one. And I’m sure he would agree.”
Yugamu places his own hands on Takumi’s and tenderly removes them from his shoulders. Still, he doesn’t let go. “Takumi. You said my life has been hard, and while I don’t want any pity, I don’t disagree with that either. I’m just not sure you understand that the hardship is caused by my circumstances, not what I did to live with them. What I became as a result is simply who I am now.”
Takumi flinched. “That sounds even worse than what I thought I accidentally implied. I’m so sorry.”
Yugamu shrugs. “Forgiven. Personally I think you could take more of an advantage of us callous ones. You are making tough calls for us, leader - we trust in your moral compass. It’s not a shame to leave the execution, literally or figuratively, to someone else for once.”
But I have, I will never want to, again. Kyoshika’s face flashes in Takumi’’s minds eye. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
The assassin starts to drag him towards the bed. “Now that you are already here, why don’t we get to bed? You can make up for all of your horrible misdeeds by sleeping soundly while I touch you indecently all night.”
“You said you’d forgive me!” Takumi protested, but let himself be manhandled. He was exhausted. And glad to be exactly where he was.
“Hehehe, did I, now? How curious, I have no memory of such a thing.”
Takumi slipped out of Yugamu’s room before the mourning announcement. It was the moment between night and morning, not dark anymore but before the first light, that TRC had never managed to recreate - if they had even tried.
He weighed his options. On hand, he would go to bed right away, he could still catch some shuteye. Or he could go and visit Eva. See for himself what she was really like.
The curiosity won.
The choice to put cages into the courtyard was quite strange.
Takumi wondered what the logic behind that one might have been. Sirei had been against them taking prisoners, but had someone else, somewhere, had other plans? Clearly the cages were meant to keep humans, not some sort of… wild beasts, that they would have captured for some reason. Surely no one had expected Eito?
Either way, the surroundings for both of their captives were calm and beautiful, far cry from damp dungeons underground. It made Takumi feel a bit less horrible about the whole ordeal.
Well, Eito hadn’t really shown any appreciation for flowers, but he thought at least Eva might. Paragon of Nature and all that.
The enemy commander retreated to a far end of her cage as soon as she saw Takumi. He slowed his approach, and raised both of his hands to signal that he came unarmed in what was - hopefully - universally peaceful gesture.
“Hey. I mean no harm, I just want to talk to you a bit.”
Still eyeing him cautiously, she kept herself pressed against the cage bars. Takumi felt a little helpless himself. How to appear even less threatning?
What would Shouma do?
Gingerly, he sat down. “Hello,” he said again. Now what? “Your name is Eva, right?”
The commander nodded hesitantly.
Takumi scratched his brain to find something calming or reassuring to talk about. Ideally, he could say to her that the war would be over within a hundred days and she could return home, but…. well. If things went according to plan and they’d torch the invaders, she would have no place to return to.
Takumi tried to put himself in her shoes. A war she did not start but wanted desperately to live through, to return home - to her friends, her family, whoever was out there waiting. Her lover, maybe.
It wasn't a very hard thought exercise.
“Do you think there is a way to end this war, other than our two armies to wipe each other out?” Takumi asked carefully. Content wise, it wasn’t a softball question, but the answer might tell something about Eva herself. Maybe he’d get a hint on how to make her open up a bit more.
Eva flinched, shoulders hunched, and withdrew even further into herself. She sat down, too, or slumped down, hugging her knees. The helmet had really done the trick, without it she looked not only less intimidating, but smaller as well. “If there was a way, we’d have tried it a long time ago.” She mumbled. “I hate fighting. Most of us do. Why did you attack us? Why did you start this war?”
Takumi blinked. Then, blinked again.
What?
That was a lot more than Takumi had expected to get out of her, especially on his first visit. The implications were alarming. If they were true.
He needed to stay calm. Anger or defensiveness would only get her to retreat back to her shell. “What do you mean by we started this war? We were told that you started it.”
She glared at him. He was reminded of how she had fought, bravely and fiercely, up until it was clear there were no moves left. Even in her surrender there was a keen will to stand her ground, not to battle, but to see tomorrow. No matter what it took.
Eva was no coward, despite her fearful mannerisms and timid voice. When he looked at it like that, she seemed a lot more mentally formidable than those who simply fought till they died, even when they knew they could not win. Like they had simply given up.
That’s a horrible thought. Takumi berated himself mentally. To fight till death meant something to them, unlike for him. What would Kyoshika think if she heard him belittle their sacrifices like that?
“If you hadn’t invaded,” she said, voice trembling, “we wouldn’t have to fight like this.”
“Tell me,” he asked quietly. “I want to hear your story.”
She huffed, disbelieving.
Takumi felt a little sheepish. Was that too cliche? “I don’t even know what to ask, so I’ll just have to trust you.”
Eva hesitated at first but then a need to be understood by someone willing to listen, truly listen, seemed to override her apprehension.
She told him about a history where, out of nowhere, alien species had made contact with hers. How they had gone to meet them in good faith, and everything had collapsed. Everything.
A civilization and culture, now almost lost to ruin. She described families torn apart, politics, combatants and non-combatans alike unsure what to do, what was the right thing to do. All communication with the invaders so far had been ruled out as impossible, as they did nothing but kill on sight.
Takumi wondered if he should point out that they had just learned to understand them, but didn’t dare to interrupt.
As Eva gained traction and momentum she reeled off to things more dear to her, personally. The planet itself, devastated by first Invader’s violence towards it, then lack of care and tending as farmers and foresters fled their designated areas, and finally the conflict itself.
“The world is on fire,” she cried, “and it won’t go out.”
It literally was. Takumi doubted Eva meant it symbolically, either, as she has been through the wall of undying flames herself.
If Eva meant what she said - and wasn’t , for example, just an incredibly talented con-artist - then this would change everything. And it was just the beginning. If they could make Eva trust them even the slightest bit, maybe she could work as an in-between.
Possibilities were endless, and far too complex for his brain to grasp. He needed to talk about this to others. Maybe Nozomi would be the best person to do the talking on their side, she was both empathetic and smart, and very likable. “Hey, I know this is sudden, but can I talk to the others about this? Then we cou-”
“That’s enough, soldier.”
A blinding pain exploded at the back of his skull. The entire world screeched with white noise.
Then, silence.
His last conscious thought was an utter sense of incomprehensibility of the betrayal.
Why?