I yawned and realised I'd somehow fallen asleep attempting to watch over Archer, I looked at the couch and saw him lying—asleep—his face screwed up in a gentle sort of way.
I stood up and stretched my arms high above my head. Looking over at the door which lead to the room Jae was sleeping in. I then looked at the front door and saw it was wide open. I shuffled outside and saw a light drizzle of rain. I spotted the moon high above my head, nearly halfway through its journey.
"Hiro, you feeling better after that sleep?" Miyoko's soft, croaky voice rang out through the light whisper of rainfall.
I looked over to my left and saw her leaning against the old, scratched-up wall. The moonlight illuminated only one side of her face, the bags under her eyes had sunk into the skin on top of her cheekbones. She looked like death warmed up.
"Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" I walked to her side and leaned against the wall too.
She grinned at me, the shadows on her face sharpening and she looked away quickly from my concern. I sighed and hugged myself, the moon's cold stare haunting and yet still beautiful. Still elegant as the Queen she was.
"I keep thinking…How is it that we just happened to run into the one person—in the whole world, might I add—who can help you control your Mist?" She said, looking up at the moon again.
I stared off into the distance and watched the rain fall. We stood like that for a while, staring and thinking. At least, I was thinking about what Archer said to me—before I told him to sleep and wake up 'anew' with a language I learnt by holding his hand…
Wisi enim animam. I'm glad you are alive.
I frowned and tried to make sense of it. Maybe I got the translation wrong. Maybe it meant 'I never needed your help'. But the more I recalled it, the more the words blurred together, and all that was diving around my head was a single word. Glad.
I'd never had anyone say that to me before. Not Jae, not Mother—not Father, nor Tsuna. I stiffened and shifted my gaze to my hands, I looked at the patterns and lines on my palms and wondered what Tsuna would've done if that fire hadn't burned her alive.
You will be loved more than you know.
They will not jump in front of a bullet for you—they will grab you and pull you both to safety.
I began to walk away and I hoped that Tsuna could spend the rest of eternity with her valiant son and her daughter-in-law. I hoped she would tell me 'to be as human as I could ever be'—but I didn't believe I was like any other person.
I walked back inside and made my way into the bathroom, sitting against the small wall around the shower floor. I stared at the tiled ground and traced the patterns on my palms.
I wasn't human—I was an abnormality—I was made to make decisions with the weight of everything on my shoulders, squashing my human body into the earth while my Mist caved a pathway for me to crawl.
I went to stand up and I slipped, grasping out for the sink and feeling an overwhelmingly sharp pain slash across my wrist. My eyes widened in alarm as red blood gushed out. I held up my other—currently working—fingers and tried to cover the small stream.
I heard a shout and didn't think as I raced back into the main room. I saw Archer sitting up, shaking his head slightly as red dripped onto the floor below him. I gaped in astonishment. He had the exact same injury.
I ran over and didn't bother to cover up my small accident. I grabbed his wrist and pulled it towards me. He stumbled forwards and I inspected his—and then my own.
"What—How—?" I looked up at Archer and he stared at me, his gaze focused and shocked.
"Hiro," He said slowly. "Why are we both bleeding in the exact same spot?"
I looked away sharply and ran back into the bathroom, Archer was hot on my heels—expecting a good explanation. I pointed to the blood spatters on the tiles and the bloody finger marks on the sink edge. The stained red razor blade. "I was in here when I slipped turning around and something cut my wrist…" I said, still trying to comprehend what was going on. I looked up at him desperately.
"I had no idea this would happen?" I said, hoping for a dismissive wave and an order to clean everything up.
Archer growled under his breath and let out a soft sigh. He held his bleeding wrist to his chest and walked back out into the kitchen. "Don't say it as if you were planning to cut yourself." He said softly, his gaze gentle as he looked at me and then quickly away.
"I wasn't, I had no idea—"
"It's the Mist," Archer said suddenly, looking up at me. His piercing gaze penetrated through my flesh and soul. I felt like—like something inside me was loosening…unravelling. I leaned against the wall and met his gaze equally.
"Explain," I said carefully, not wanting him to notice the slight slur in my voice. The Mist wasn't healing as it used to…and I needed to know why.
Archer sat down at the table and I stayed where I was. Not wanting to move anyway. "My Dad and Mum used to tell me stories as a little boy. About great Wielders of the disease that killed humankind." He looked away from me, shifting his gaze to his stained red wrist. "And that this Wielder of Mist couldn't unlock all of their power; their devilish and heroic abilities, unless they'd found their Keeper. The one who contained the Mist for the Wielders, and connected with them. The Keepers were there to protect the Wielder, and if the Keeper failed at this—they both died."
He looked at my wrist and I understood what he was saying. I was the Wielder, he was the Keeper. Archer inhabited half of the Mist I wielded so that our life forces were connected.
I stiffened. "They will not jump in front of a bullet for you, but grab you and drag you both to safety." I stumbled forwards and hugged my hand to my chest, a broken—crumbling feeling overwhelming my bones. I felt lost, I felt as if every sin I'd committed had the consequence which fell to this moment.
"I don't want to drag you into this." I moaned, and I rocked back and forth. I felt Archer's hands around my shoulders as he tried to help me stand up. I shook my head and felt tears fall down my face.
Therivertherivertherivertheriver. I looked up wildly and—somehow—our eyes met.
"I won't bring you into this hell," I said. I frowned and looked back down at my wrist, the red stains and blotches were all that was left. The cut was gone—not even a shimmering scar remained.
Archer looked down at his wrist and then at his hand wrapped around my shoulder blades. His gaze went back and forth. And then he finally met my eyes and bit his lip.
"Vivamus moriendum est." He said quietly, standing up and looking down at me. I shied my gaze away and muttered a 'thank you' under my breath. Even if I wouldn't admit it—I knew that one of the last things Tsuna ever said to me was that my soulmate would love me more than I could ever know.
I looked back at Archer as warily as I stood up, still clinging to my wrist as if it would fall off at any moment. He washed the red away under the tap and walk off into another room. I sighed and walked over to the room Jae was occupying.
I opened the door and heard the distant sound of wheezing. She clearly threw up a fair amount. I still didn't know what she had been trying to forget, but I knew I couldn't fix it.
"Hiro?" Miyoko asked. I turned and saw her staring at me. She sniffed the air, her pink hair was falling in tangles around her pale face.
"Yeah?" I said, shutting the door and casually hiding the red wrist behind my back. I watched her as she watched me. And then, she was walking away.
"Have a shower please, you stink." She said simply. I groaned and refrained from lifting my arm and sniffing my armpits. I'd rather sniff them after I'd washed them.
I muttered under my breath and walked into the bathroom. I looked down at myself and realised that I only had what I was wearing for clothes. I smacked the side of my face and leaned against the bathroom doorway.
"Here you go." A gentle voice said. I looked up quickly and saw Archer holding a pile of clothes. He flashed me a quick smile and I grabbed them. Peeking around to watch him as he worked at the bench. Cutting up vegetables he pulled from a cupboard and ice boxes.
I turned back and closed the door, noticing that there wasn't a lock, and placed the clothes on the non-bloody side of the sink. After I felt comfortable enough, I slowly began undressing. My clothes were from the same day I saved Jae from the inferno that destroyed my home.
I frowned and placed my shirt on the floor, not really caring what happened to it. I looked at my neck and saw the splotches of scars that embers had left. I turned around and saw the two stripes along my back which were similar to claw marks. But they weren't scratches, they were the marks left behind from a blazing log of fire. The marks that would never go away would be the ones inflicted by the nemesis of Mist.
I felt the hot water run down my back and sighed. Rubbing myself clean and scrubbing my head hard enough to make the roots of my hair ache. I turned the taps off and stepped out onto the cold floor. The steamy air kissed my cheeks, causing them to flush a light pink.
I dried myself down and pulled my borrowed clothes on. I looked at myself and realised that Archer's clothes were a little bigger than mine. The sleeves of his shirt were up to my fingertips.
I sighed and picked up my dirty clothes, I walked out of the room and turned the light off. I sniffed the air and felt my mouth water when a delightful scent hit my nose.
I walked over to Archer's side and grinned. "Whatchya makin'?" I asked, leaning over his shoulder. He smiled but didn't look back at me.
"A vegetable and rabbit soup." He said, he chopped up a carrot expertly and then chucked it all into the bubbling pot of water.
I draped the clothes over a table chair and went back to his side. "Can I help in any way?" I asked. Archer looked back at me and I shifted under his stare. I couldn't exactly tell whether he wanted me to or not. Eventually, he sighed and nodded.
"Can you chop up the cabbage and onion please?" He asked, pointing over at a board set up further down the long bench. I nodded and walked over, rolling up my sleeves. I would help and try not to fail as well.
I winced as I nicked my finger. Again. This time, Archer didn't even groan. He just handed me a bandaid and a cloth whilst sucking his own finger. I muttered thanks and fixed up my minor injury.
I rinsed the cloth and went to start cutting up the onions. I chopped it roughly and blinked. It'd sprayed something into my eyes. Archer sent me a look and I shook my head smiling.
I'm fine. I thought warily. He'd better not start judging me or anything. I chopped it again and again, into small squares so that it cooked more quickly.
Before I knew it, I was crying. Tears fell down my face even though I wasn't filled with any emotion. I looked over at Archer. He took in my expression and laughed, walking to my side and removing me from my duties. I wiped my eyes and then let out a yelp. That made my eyes sting even more!
Archer snorted and cut up the rest of the onion, shoving it all into the pot while the meat sizzled away. He turned to face me and watched as I wiped my tears away with bandaged hands.
"It's—not—working—" I muttered. He chuckled and I looked up at him, my tears fuzzing up my vision. "It's not funny!" I cried, trying to lean against the table but failing and falling to the ground instead.
"Owww." I moaned. I blinked several times and then I saw Archer's blurry figure kneel in front of me and I stilled. I felt soft fingers stroke my face and wipe my tears away. I froze and stared ahead of me, the gesture so familiar and yet strange that I shivered. A mother's touch but a darker intention. I waited—almost eagerly—as Archer stroked under my eyes.
Just before he pulled away, his touch lingered on my cheek. "There you go." He said. I closed my eyes and sighed, opening them and seeing the world through clear eyes once again.
I stood up and smiled at him. Grabbing his hand as he pulled me up. "Thanks," I said. He grinned back and went to continue working on the rest of the meal preparation.
By the time he was getting out bowls and utensils, Jae was stumbling through the door and blinking wearily at us. Miyoko rolled her eyes and got up, grabbing her shoulders and helping her to sit down at the table with the rest of us.
"W-who are you?" She asked, pointing at Archer. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, returning to his task of gathering cups. I fetched the water jug.
Miyoko rubbed Jae's arms and explained what was going on and tried to jog her memory of how we got there. Jae eventually said that she remembered someone taking me away and mending me. I looked over at Archer and smiled. He grinned back, humour dashed across his face.
"Let's say our graces and eat then!" Archer said as he sat down. I frowned at him.
"Are your graces different to ours?" I asked, grabbing his hand nervously. He just shook his head and looked around the table. His eyes were alight with an energy I couldn't exactly name.
"Just repeat after me." He said. We all nodded and he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes. We shared a quick glance and then did the same.
"Oh Fire, oh Sun.
May the tongues of your blazing men be as strong as the first day of life.
May you guide us through the fingers of blue and across the flat land of hell.
May you bless the world with light unlike any other, where the stars are not just light—they are lanterns.
Lanterns that float, and watch us scramble. And as the dust settles, beginning the benevolent time which we call harvest.
Bring us what we share, and what we will."
We opened our eyes and I sent Archer a questioning glance. He just shrugged nonchalantly and let go of my hand. I let go of Jae's fingers and we all began eating. For a while we didn't speak, just politely ate in silence.
But then Jae and Miyoko started up a conversation about the type of clouds that warn someone what the weather will bring. I placed another spoonful of soup to my lips and swallowed it.
I didn't really know what to talk about with Archer. If anything, we would start speaking to one another in the 'Old World's tongue. Even though it only came to me when I felt a certain oneness with myself. "So, Hiro—where did you come from?" Archer asked, looking at me from over his drinking glass.
I stiffened slightly, remembering the fire and how it ate up my home so quickly. Archer sent me a puzzled look but I'd already wiped the sad expression off of my face.
"I come from Baî," I said, looking at the wood patterns in the table. I tried to push all the memories away. Good and bad. But they still kept coming, and soon I was far past neck deep.
"Were you a farmer—?" Archer began to ask but then stopped himself. "No, you couldn't have been." He muttered to himself.
I frowned. "Why not?" I asked, when I was a boy—that was all I dreamt about. Working in the fields and walking about through pastures of green and livestock.
Archer avoided my gaze. "Because you're too pretty." He muttered. I grinned widely and shook my head. I was glad for the distraction, I couldn't stop myself from remembering. But I felt…warm whenever Archer spoke. So I honestly was fazed. But, there was still the question of; does he know what happened to Baî.
"Ask me something else if you're embarrassed about it," I said lightly. Archer looked back and me and nodded. I tried to keep the small smile off my face because I'd never smiled like that at anyone before.
"Are you royalty?" He asked solemnly. It seemed that the two girls had been listening to our conversation, and they fell quiet.
I gulped my soup down violently and skulled my water to help it go down. I stood up and felt the world drop beneath my feet. "I'll just be a minute." I heard myself say.
And then my feet were taken far away from that table. And that innocent question could've just meant nothing. Completely harmless. But it meant so much.
I leaned heavily against the outside wall and let my head knock against it. I felt the lump in my throat lock still and watched the moon as it took the fuzzy shape of a white cotton ball.
Mother. Father. Tsuna. Mr Song. Akiyama. The Sword Instructor. Everyone. They all died because of me. Now I've abandoned them to stop the people who killed the ones who loved me. But why?
No one else loved me the way they did. Uniquely and individually. Was there a point to be made? Was I meant to die at the hands of those vagabonds? Or would I run away from my life? Break my vow and hide in the mountains and hoped I would get mauled by a tiger or die at the hands of a poisonous fruit?
There wasn't a point in revenge if the thing you were revenging was gone. Because revenge won't bring it back. No matter if you go to the ends of the earth. They're not going to wait for you.
You will be left with nothing but blood on your hands as the sun slowly sinks and your heartbeat fades. All that work for nothing. I groaned and let myself fall to the ground hap-hazardously, sitting and trying to make myself comfortable.
I heard footsteps as I realised I had sat down and didn't bother to look up. I just adjusted my position and let out a soft breath. I couldn't place how I felt, except for the fact that my brain was spinning and my heart was racing. I couldn't quite place why.
"Hiro?" I didn't look up at Archer as he walked out of the house and sat by my side. His leg was right by my head. He then joined me. We lay on the grass side by side.
I didn't bother responding as he began to apologise profusely about something I hadn't reacted to. He'd just reminded me of the realistic side of things. The more…pointless and obvious side that I'd been deprived of until just now.
I came back to myself and looked over at Archer, he wasn't talking anymore. He was just staring up at the moon, fascinated by something I couldn't see any longer. He looked back at me and sighed softly. His gaze was sorrowful and pained. "You look blank." He said. I blinked and it took my brain a few loops before it registered what he'd just said.
"No one's said that to me before," I said, looking away and back up at the sky. I looked over to the far corner of the sky, the strands of Archer's bedraggled hair in the way.
"I was thinking…it's a good enough excuse," I said quietly. He chuckled and I rolled my eyes, not wanting to see what his eyes were like in the faded light of darkness. But, I couldn't help looking over at him once again. And when we locked gazes, his eyes softened and began to glow a vibrant red.
I felt my eyes widen in surprise. He frowned and looked at me strangely. "Your eyes—!" We said simultaneously. We didn't pull away from each other but instead kept staring. I felt…safer. Even though I hardly knew him. It seemed wrong and right. And even though, as we stared, I knew I was leaning uncontrollably towards the latter.
"Hiro…your eyes…are…glowing." I looked at my hands and saw that a faint blue light had cast itself across my palms.
"Blue…" I said quietly. I looked up at him again. "Your eyes are red," I said. He looked down at the grass and bathed the stalks in a soft, red glow. He let out a shocked wisp of breath and closed his eyes. I did the same.
When I reopened them, I saw his face sadden slightly and I frowned. "What? Did my not go out like yours?" I asked. He shook his head and the smile that lay across his lips was so sad and torn I felt something inside me rip apart.
Just like that. A click of fingers seemed to be all it took.
"No, I was sad because you looked so beautiful with them." He said, I blinked in shock, but my face was smiling. I grinned and stood up, looking down at Archer's red face.
"I'm taking that as the biggest, cutest compliment of my life—now get up—The girls are probably wondering where we are," I said, leaning back slightly as I helped Archer to his feet.
"Thanks." He said, not looking at me as I looked at him. I went inside and felt his gaze on the back of my head. And I didn't bother ignoring it like I used to.
I turned around. His gaze travelled to the fire. "Come on, help out with the dishes, Archer!" I said accusingly. He scratched his neck and strolled over to the sink, I did the same.
Soon we were working in silence. The dishes clinked softly as he handed them to me and I dried them. Soon, our dirty plates and cups were clean and everyone was chatting with each other around the fire.
"Hey, Hiro—you remember Yatsu?" Jae said, smiling as memories washed over her. I grinned sadly. Knowing that the decision I'd made was final. I wouldn't succumb her to that kind of misery.
"I do, such a cheeky thing," I said, shaking my head. I remembered trying to feed her after cleaning the dry mud from her paws and coat. She bit me quite hard. On practically all my fingers.
Archer laughed as Jae explained who Yatsu was and where she was now. He looked back at the fire and we sat in silence, waiting for someone to speak. I leant back and let out a breath. Not wanting to seem tired, but I was. I yawned and pinched myself.
"Ow…" Archer muttered, he looked over at me and pointed to my wrist. "What was that for?" He demanded.
I shrugged. "Kinda forgot about that…" I murmured. I grinned at him guiltily. I then realised that Jae and Miyoko were watching us. Complex ranges of confusion across their features.
"What just happened?" Jae asked, staring at me pointedly. I shrunk back into the couch under her glare. She seemed to be acting more like herself. I reckon that hangover really did a number on her.
"I, umm—well…you see…" I tried to form the words, but instead, I ended up staring helplessly at Archer. He sighed and I swore he could've facepalmed. That's how disappointed he was in me for not remembering all the important details.
"When I saved Hiro, 'connecting with his Mist'—in a sense—his Mist recognised me to be his Keeper, and as the legend goes…" He looked over at me, wanting me to finish.
"I am the Wielder, he the Keeper," I said quietly, trying to ignore Jae and Miyoko's faces. "The Mist I have harboured my entire life is distributed between us, which causes both of us to react to the same injury—our lives connected by Mist."
Jae stood up abruptly and walked to Archer's side. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out the door. I looked over at Miyoko, confusion scrawling across my face. "What's she on about?" I asked.
Miyoko just grinned and stood up, walking off to the bathroom. I frowned and looked back over at the blazing tongues of the fireplace and, instinctively, my hand went to the burn scar on my collarbone and ankle.