Fate: Dead Man’s Lament

Chapter 31: Episode 29


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Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 4884

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read up to 10 Episodes in advanced plus my other fic: Ars Goetia– Antichrist here.

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor


Against my expectations, no Notification popped up to tell me the Difficulty had been altered. No new Rewards or Consequences either. It was odd, since had thought Sasaki's situation would increase the Difficulty by a Rank at the very least, but no, nothing. My best bet was it didn't update simply because none of my allies was in mortal danger. Shibata, Okamoto and Bakugou were still very healthy, while Sasaki was a capable man, he wouldn't fall so easily for this kind of scheme. Although the loss of support from Kiyoshi could prove to be a challenge, the original plan centered around the three and I anyways.

My thoughts were interrupted by another Ragnarok's grunt charging at me from the side. He was pathetic compared to my spar-mates: Slow, clumsy and predictable, but I supposed I couldn't really expect every person I met to secretly be a powerhouse or one-in-a-million prodigy.

I kicked at his knees, rolling my eyes as the vermin howled in pain, staring horrified at his shattered limb. Poor guy, he would be lucky to ever walk again with how that looked. Oh-well, not like he was going to survive me in-any-case. My other leg snapped at his neck and his head just bent, yet he did not die. Honestly, it would have been more merciful had he died right then and there, now he had to deal with all the gurgling that came with having a broken neck, a shattered spine and ruptured blood vessels. "Sorry, dude. Shoulda' died when you had the chance."

I left him to his Fate, chasing after Shibata and the other two. They had fled into a nearby park to lose their pursuers, I was able to keep up with them effortlessly… At first, then Ragnarok began to target me incessantly. The first ten quickly doubled in number, tripled and soon, I had over a hundred of those bastards on my tail. If they had been strong, I might not have felt so angry, but the fact that each and every single one of them was puny in comparison to my all of my spar-mates so far made me positively murderous. 'Seriously, are these fuckers looking down on me or what?'

There was no way, no way in any version of Reality could these vermin ever harm me, unless that was the whole point? They weren't here to hunt me down… They were here to keep me busy, to prevent me from meeting up with the S.O.B group? Maybe they thought our hatred wasn't completely irreconcilable yet and didn't want to push the grudge further? Or they could want something from me. Perhaps, something they thought I had found in Regul's lair? That's indeed the more likely scenario than the first, though they would be disappointed. I burnt Regul's little madhouse alongside his research notes ages ago.

I ducked behind the tree-line, getting a very much needed breather. It was quite annoying, they were hounding me at every turn, I couldn't even escape into the busier streets since they were throwing around Mystic Codes like those were candies. Sure, I could plead innocent should it come to that, but the Clock Tower's attention was not something I, nor Japan as a whole needed right now. Not to mention, I was just a First-Gen, the Clock Tower would definitely throw me under the bus in order to satiate the Aristocratic Faction. With the severity of the situation, the other two Factions might even join in… "Urgghh, how miserable."

I felt like a lone lion being hounded by an insane pack of African wild dogs that just didn't know when to fucking stop. "Damned vermin!" I kicked another in the face, my foot meeting with his jaw, snapping his head backwards. The crunch that should have been satisfying to hear was pure, irritation-inducing nightmare to my ears. "Just fuck off to wherever the Hell you all are spawning from already!" These guys were like zombies, or the infected in '28 Days Later'. They were persistent, hard to kill, they ignored wounds that should leave them crying bloody murder on the floor and worst of all, they were seemingly endless.

They weren't smart, probably because most, if not every last one of them were once street thugs, cannon-fodders, bottoms of the bottom in society. Now, given a chance to rise up that metaphorical ladder, they must be very enthusiastic. But, it shouldn't be this bad. No matter what the Mages promised them, it couldn't possibly be enough for them to throw their lives away like this, right? Especially after seeing me decapitating several of their horde left, right and center, yet they charged in still… Why? I looked at the twitching corpses, only now noticing the strangeness on them. 'Thank the Gods it's still business hours.'

Twitchy limbs, fingers and toes. Purplish nails, veins pulsing even as the life left their eyes. Yep, something was definitely wrong with these guys. I put my hand on one of the corpses. "[Structural Gasp]."

[Structural Gasp]'s usefulness was undeniable, but that did not mean it didn't have its flaws. For once, [Structural Gasp] was better, much better when it came to deciphering the physical makeup of objects, as in none-living objects. It was horrible to use on anything that didn't satisfy this requirement. The reason why Mages could use [Structural Gaps] on their bodies was simply because the Mana needed to scan something didn't have to pass through living tissues, as it already was inside said Mages.

Besides that, there's also the passive Magic Resistance that all living beings possessed, even mundane ones to a lesser extent, which meant despite my aversion to touching the bloody, twitchy corpse, I was forced to swallow my disgust and dug in. "How odd." Their bodies were… For a lack of a better description, fucked up. His hormones were all over the place, his hearts had signs of strain and slight ruptures, the most interesting part was his brain, the sections governing fear and caution was completely muted, while aggression was pushed to the max.

Even more disturbing was his nervous system, it's still active despite the deceased status of its fleshy vessel. It almost reminded me of those abominations from months ago. "Regul..." I gritted my teeth, hissing beneath my breath. "Even in death, you are still a pain in my ass!" I swung my blade, the fascination of blood, real blood spurting into the air like some cheap prop was long gone, all that remained was the disdain of the metallic taste that would occasionally slip in mouth and the fishy scent that made my head dance with dizziness.

"I need to hide and regroup with them as soon as possible…" I glanced at the pile of corpses, flicking a bottle of concoction that I had found on one of the corpses I looted previously. There were several bottles of this stuff on the guy and according to the crumbled instruction that seemed to have been hastily shoved inside his pocket, you only needed a bottle to dissolve dozens of carcasses. The concoction would also infect any deceased living tissues near its original spot before either running out of steam, or there was nothing left for it to consume.

Good thing it didn't work on the livings for the same reason why [Structural Gasp] wouldn't: It couldn't bypass the natural passive Magic Resistance. The instruction was written very neatly, the handwriting was beautiful in spite of the amateurish-feeling in each stroke, it was short, precise and to the point. 'Must have been the Mages.' If I had been a worse man, I might have guessed the Magus was female based on this, but in the past, I had seen plenty of guys, my acquaintances mostly, have better handwriting, more elegant even.

No idea how they did it, I had taken several classes to improve on my handwriting, but mine always ended up looking the scratches of an angry, butchered chicken…

Back to the topic at hand, the bottle contained in it a Magical Curse in liquid form, automatically seeking out deceased tissues to consume until it couldn't eat anymore and fizzle out. It's actually pretty horrifying, watching the pile sizzle like someone had dropped them in a vat of acid, melting away skin, flesh then bones. All these happened within fifteen-point-nine seconds, leaving behind only black sludge that looked both slimy and shiny. Yes, I counted. The instinctual part of my brain said to touch it and confirm if it felt as it looked, the rational gave me a clear and resounding: Fuck that.

Thankfully, I managed to prevail against my lizard-brain. No, really, fuck that noise. I ain't touching that unless a priceless Artifact was the prize, and even then I'd only dip the tip of my finger before pulling out. Not sure if it contained toxic substances or not, but I'd rather not risk it. Fortunately, the instruction also said this sludge would evaporate after thirty minutes to an hour, which was surprisingly convenient. "Magecraft as a whole truly is diverse and useful…" There were spells, potions and all sorts of products for literally every situation.

Now, don't be mistaken, I liked the Anime, I loved the Movies and I fucking adored the Visual Novel, but they couldn't depict the magnificence of real, functional Magecraft, they didn't even come close. Magecraft wasn't limited to the nuclear strikes shown in the Anime, it wasn't limited to Curses like Finn-Shot, neither was it just Runecraft, it was all of those and more, much, much more. I turned my gaze away. I had marveled at this application of Magecraft enough, I had things to do, people to meet and assholes to murder. Luckily, I kept my phone strapped to my belt…

"This is Leonis speaking, can you hear me?" Gasps sounded on the other end, silence then a feminine shout. "– Leo! Where on Earth are you?!"

Shibata roared into the phone, face red with anger and exertion. She looked at her… Friends, they weren't any better than her. Surrounding them were the groaning grunts of Ragnarok, each with a body-part broken, bent and twisted. Those that didn't have outwards wounds were clutching their chest or stomach. She didn't have to look under their clothes to know there were bruises forming. "Leo! Where on Earth are you?!" She heard shuffling on the other side and could almost see the boy flinching at the tone she was using.

For a slight second, she felt guilty remembering his tragic backstory, then her exhaustion and worry quickly stomped down on said guilt with ruthless efficiency. "– Sorry Shibata-tan, I was pre-occupied with the thugs. They blocked my path and there were too many witnesses for me to fight them head-on." She could sense he wanted to say more, but that could wait, they had been delayed for long enough. "I understand–" She released a shuddering breath, realizing how unreasonable she was being. She was there when the boy was separated from their group, her teammates might not have seen it how many chased after Leo, but she saw.

It would be hard not to, considering her training had included a specialized Martial Art that made her gaze sharper and farther than most Practitioners of the Art would be capable of. Sure, she hadn't been able to see the details through the haze of dyed hairs, still, that alone should be proof already. "I apologize for my outburst, do you need us to send you the coordinates for the next safehouse? It's Sasaki-sama's personal property, it's off the records and should–" She paused, concern bleeding into her otherwise stone-cold face. "Should be secured."

She honestly had no clue if it was, she didn't even know whether the man she had admired since their first meeting was alive or not, she could only hope, hope that he had survived this treacherous plot, and if not, she could only avenge him. The thought sent her down a sea of sinking coldness and dread, a purgatory of her own making, and it was more painful than she had imagined. "– No need, just tell me the address, I'll be there before nightfall." Thankfully, Leonis' voice snapped her out of the depression that clouded her mind. 'C'mon Shibata, get yourself out of it.'

"The address is…" Seconds later. "Did you get all that?"

"– Got it, see you guys later." Shibata quickly shoved the device between her chest, turning towards her teammates. Bakugou was sweating profusely, but he seemed unharmed, and Okamoto, while was breathing harshly with scratches here and there, should be fit for relocation. "I talked to Leo, he's fine and promised to meet us at the location before nightfall. Are you two still fit to move?" She knew they were, she just didn't want to appear rude or uncouth. Despite their dire situation, her upbringing shone through still. "Lil' shit's alive?"

Bakugou didn't seem too surprised, and although his wording might have been somewhat rude, Shibata had interacted with him enough to recognize subtle cues like the movements of his arms and minute, nigh unnoticeable twitches of his facial structures that screamed he was worried. Okamoto, blessed her angelic heart, looked like she was a bad news away from bursting into tears. Indeed, the day hadn't been kind to her, she was a gentle person by nature, and having to cripple, not to mention kill so many people had put a lot of pressure on her conscience. "H- He's fine?"

Shibata nodded as she watched the girl rub the unshed tears from her brown, glistening doe-eyes. "T- That's good then." She smiled, it was something fragile and weak, but it was a smile nonetheless. Shibata was suddenly struck with the overwhelming urge to run her hand down her friend's hair, an urge she did not try to resist. "He is fine." She confirmed, tone softening. "Everything will be alright, I promise." Though she didn't believe her own words, it's still marginally better than letting Okamoto blindly panic. She had only joined Kiyoshi to make her parents proud, she wasn't a strong  girl mentally, she was not like her…

Okamoto had come to join Kiyoshi with her parents' approval and well-wishes, Shibata had come without. They were so similar, both having only themselves and their ability to rely on, the difference was Shibata had been crossed out of her family records as a result, while Okamoto's parents visited their daughter regularly with faces full of smile. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't envious of the girl at first, resented her even, but then she realized her parents' affection had come at a price, and that price while nothing much for her, was devastating for the gentle Okamoto.

She was a talented Martial Artist, of that Shibata had no doubt. Sadly, she didn't have the heart of one. Shibata couldn't even keep count the amount of times she had seen the girl sobbing to herself after a particularly gruesome fight or a mission gone wrong. Shibata hadn't bothered to comfort her in the beginning, she had thought Okamoto would get used to the blood, the gore, the scream… She never did. Each time they were back from a mission, Okamoto would cry herself hoarse in her room. If even she was feeling the pressure of the situation, then Okamoto must be freaking out internally.

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"Everything will work out fine, Chika." Shibata pulled the girl in her arms, letting Okamoto's head rest against her soft bosom. She felt her friend tense in her embrace as tears began to stain her black jacket. Bakugou, who was standing mere feet from them, approached to give Okamoto pats on the back, before leaving, seemingly uncomfortable with how things had developed. "You two–" He paused, his tone for once was soft and gentle, caring even. "I'll go look for a vehicle, stay hidden."

He hurriedly walked-run out, stealing several pieces of clothing that were being left to dry and a dusty old cap on the way out to cover himself and his iconic blonde hair. A logical decision on his part, seeing as two-thirds, if not all of Ragnarok members had had his appearance drilled into their heads. "Be careful." The two of them might have had their ups and downs, but they were of the same organization and people of the team too, it would be lying if she said she didn't care for him. Things wouldn't be the same without his rudeness and the blonde tuft on his head. "I will."

The steroid-ridden thugs charged at Akio, the previously deemed coward by all that knew him panicked, yet not a trace of anxious could be discerned from his expression. On the surface, he was as calm as a still lake. 'It's okay, Akio. You can do this!' He cheered for himself as he leaned his brother against the wreckage of an old car. Sasaki had been seriously injured and the chance of him waking up now was close to null, Akio only had his fists to rely on now. Not for the first time in his life, Akio felt bitter about his lack of talent.

There were merely a handful of enemies left, and they seemed hesitant to approach, likely fearing Akio's non-existent ability. Indeed, compared to his brother, he could at most be considered an useless bystander in spite of his upbringing and years of training. Hell, he knew for a fact that his brother would have made quick work of these eight, but Akio wasn't him, he understood that since the second he saw Sasaki fight on par with his father all those years ago, which was why he had been content with living under his brother's shadow and protection.

Unfortunately, their situations had reversed and his brother could no longer protect him. 'I won't let them hurt you, Aniki…'

Akio took a stance. It was the same one his brother had used, causing the remaining thugs to freeze and flinch in fear. While they had survived Sasaki, they had not come out unscathed. The majority of them were either wounded, bleeding profusely or both. But Akio knew his stance was nowhere near as good as Sasaki's had been, it didn't even come close. The reason he had picked this stance was because he wanted to honor his brother and used it to intimidate them. Facing Sasaki had left a huge impression in their memories, and with the pain addling their minds, plus the blood loss, Akio doubted they would be able to see the difference between him and his brother.

They were at an impasse, the thugs were afraid of his nigh non-existent Martial Art and he was wary of their group. As the saying went, 'The cornered dog bites the hardest'. He could intimidate them, but he couldn't go too far lest they grew desperate and threw all caution to the wind. "I'm the twelfth Leader and Lord of Kiyoshi… Those who still value their lives may leave. Those who don't will die." He scowled, hoping to the Shinto Gods that he looked half as convincing as he sounded. Fortunately, if their hesitant, fearful looks were anything to go by, they weren't too keen on calling his bluff.

"My brother is seriously injured and needs immediate medical attention, which is the only thing keeping me from ripping your limbs off your torso. I don't like killing, but I won't hesitate if you keep testing my patience." At that, the majority decided they would rather not take gamble. The few that had remained unconvinced also slowly retreated, leaving one after another. Minutes later, when they had all turned-tails and run, Akio growled loudly. "How long do you plan on watching? Come out!"

*CRICKET

*CRICKET

*CRICKET

Except for the imaginary cricket noises in his head, none replied to Akio's provocation. Still, he waited for a few more minutes, before sighing in relief. If there had really been people monitoring them, they would have run off thinking they had been discovered, and if there hadn't, then he lost nothing besides the tiny modicum of pride and confidence he had. Akio wiped away the cold-sweats dripping down his forehead and hands with his sleeves, turning to the slumped form of his brother worriedly as he caught a low groan escaping the man's lips. "Aniki, I'm here!"

"Y‐ You did– *Cough*– You did well, little brother." Sasaki said weakly, stopping to swallow the mouthful of blood that had just torn its way up his sore throat. "S- Sorry about that, little– *Cough*– Little brother, we don't have much time, you need to leave for the Old Street, I used to live there before mother took me in, it will be safe and my personnel, if any has survived, will look for me at this address–" He painfully reached for the crumpled piece of paper he had tucked in his suit, his fingers trembling almost as if even the tinniest action left him in unimaginable agony.

"You– *Cough*– You go… Keep to the crowds and remain vigilant, they won't dare attack you in public, but they might follow you there to finish the job." This, this wasn't like his brother. The elder brother he had grown up with kept his composure, he would never give up as long as there was a sliver of Hope, and he would try to make the best out of a bad situation. It didn't matter how hopeless things were looking, it didn't matter that everyone was against him, he would manage. He always did. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I‐ I'm tired, Akio. I'm so tired, I just want this to stop."

He clutched his wound, eyes lifeless, defeated. "I know how I portray myself, I know how you must feel about me– Your invincible brother, the one that always comes out victorious, but I'm not that great, I couldn't even save our parents and now Kiyoshi too will likely fall thanks to me… All I want is for you to be safe, to live your life and have a family of your own. That's my biggest wish, my dream, I can't do it anymore, but you can, Akio."

This wasn't his brother speaking, it was Sasaki Nishiki– Formerly Sasaki Enki professing his dream to someone he had affectionately called 'little brother' for over half his life; asking, begging him to live in his place. For the slightest second, Akio was struck with the immense desire to agree, yet he also knew the moment he did, Sasaki would die, if not physically then spiritually, and he couldn't, wouldn't allow that to pass. He clenched his teeth, feeling an usual sense of determination replacing his years-worth of inferiority complex. "No!"

Akio shouted, arms snaking beneath the injured man's armpits, yanking him up as he forced Sasaki to limp away with him. "Stop being so damned unreasonable, Aniki! If you want to have a family, do it yourself–" Akio unceremoniously swept his brother up on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, rushing to find something that could carry the two of them to the safehouse. "Don't saddle your dreams onto me, damn it! Don't I have enough expectations to live up to already?!" For as long as he had been able to remember, Akio's life was a pile of expectations and disappointments.

His parents' expectations, his subordinates' and now his brother's too? They hoisted their hopes and dreams on to him, demanding him to do it in their steads, but he couldn't do it. Akio knew himself more than anyone, even if he were hundreds-times more capable, he would still be crushed under the weight of their expectations. Honestly, there were moments, moments when Akio just wanted to chug alcohols to wash away his sorrows, but he couldn't even do that thanks to his pathetic constitution. He could barely stand the scent of sake, let alone drink it.

The longer he thought about the cards dealt to him by Life, the angrier he got. "Akio, just drop me and–" Akio screamed, he screamed himself hoarse, he screamed until his voice was raw. Indignation, like the morning fog, clouded and consumed his mind. While his boyish voice lacked the commanding presence their Sasaki had, it was nevertheless a terrifying, mangled thing. "ShUt Up, shUT up, sHuT ThE FuCk uP AlREadY!" He choked on a silent sob, rubbing his reddened eyes as anger turned to grief and indignation changed to resignation.

"Please, I can't do it, Aniki. I can't lose you too…" Neither brothers speak for their entire trip, occupied with their own thoughts. Thankfully, in spite of their distracted and vulnerable state, they weren't attacked and were even successful in their attempt at securing a vehicle for their usage.

.

.

.

I jumped down the bus, waving goodbye at the middle-aged man who had helped me get to my destination. I was quite guilty for thinking he was a pedophile initially, I had never been more glad to be proven wrong. "See you, uncle Izumi." The man waved back, but didn't say anything as the door closed. I turned from the bus departing bus, gazing at the orange sky. My hair was cut short, gelled and swept to make a neat, side-shaved pompadour, my eyebrows trimmed. Even my clothes were different with black shorts coming down to my knees, a white shirt and a baseball cap to top things off.

This wasn't my style, not at all. I especially hated shorts with a passion, but I had no choice. I had to wear different outfit and cut my hair in order to blend in, which worked wonderfully. Still, I was saddened to see my bun stacked in a pile of air, I had grown fond of it… Sadly, we were not meant to be. "Requiestcas in Pace, my lovely black locks, you will be forever missed." I sent one last prayer to my lost hair, then set off. On the way, I didn't try to keep to the shadows or any of that nonsense. That crap only worked in fictions, or under specific circumstances such as trying to sneak into a heavily defended compound.

It's useless, possibly harmful while evading capture. It painted a target on your back that basically shouted: 'Suspicious' to every person in the vicinity. It wouldn't alert Ragnarok to my precise location, but it would leave traces they could track, and likely make me look like a street rat. Not a good thing in a society that put a heavy emphasis on normality. I didn't mind it before, since their judgements didn't matter to me, but the situation demanded I kept a low-profile.

I disappeared into the crowd, slipping through the small cracks that would open up as they moved until finally, an ugly, abandoned house stood in front of me. The place was situated in a dirty, narrow alley. I could see cobwebs stuck to the windows where I was, the door was less a door and more rotten planks of wood held together by a few rusted nails. I looked at the address I had written down, then back at the… For a lack of a better word, shack. "Hmmm, did I come to the wrong place?" I knew Sasaki had a habit of placing his safehouse and properties in the more destitute parts of town, but this was a bit much, no?

Nevertheless, I ignored the sense of doubt that slowly encroached upon my mind and approached, knocking hesitantly on the planks. "It's Leo, you guys in there?!" For several minutes, there was no response. Just as I was ready to leave, a gruff, angry voice called to me. "Get in here, lil' shit." I was greeted with the sight of the eternally angry blonde as he slammed the door open and dragged me inside. "As always, charmed, Bakugou. Charmed…" I commented dryly, yanking my arm free from the blonde's forceful grip.

"Leo-chan!" Okamoto happily chirped, pulling me into a breath-taking hug, literally. 'I s'pose there are worse ways to die...'

"Chika you are suffocating him–" Hey! I was enjoying myself. Much to my sadness, Okamoto released me from her death-grip, albeit reluctantly. "It's good to see you in one piece, Leo-san." Shibata stood with her arms crossed, nodding at me on the side. I responded by throwing her a thumb-up and a cocky grin. Then I turned my attention to the protagonists– Sasaki and a boy not much older than me. "Leo-san–" Sasaki started, licking his lips as the boy helped fix his glasses. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but with the situation we find ourselves in…" He grimaced.

"I understand, how have you been, Sasaki-san?" The glassed man chuckled humorlessly. "Not too well, but I'll live." He then shoved the boy in front of me. "This is my brother– The twelfth Lord of Kiyoshi and the sole legitimate heir to the Nishiki lineage, Nishiki Akio." They didn't look similar at all. Oh-well, ain't none of my business. "Nice to meet you, Nishiki-san." We continued to take turns offering pleasantries until I decided it's about time we mentioned the elephant in the room.

"So… What do we do now?"

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