Takes place soon after The Chosen.
“Negaverse Senshi won’t be seen as targets also, will we?”
Kamacite had been sitting silently, staring into his cup of tea for several minutes now. It wasn’t unusual for him to sit there and say nothing while they both ate or drank tea. He didn’t require conversation to be comfortable. Sometimes the silence was better. Less stressful. But this, at least, gave the General King a set period of time where no one else would bother him.
Axinite wanted him to go to him if he ever needed anything -- and Kamacite needed to check in on Axinite to make sure he was okay. As Axinite told him -- there is nothing you should have to deal with alone.
So since the day Justice showed up at Misha’s apartment door, looking for Yuuri because he’d skipped out on a meeting after the Rift, he tried to stop by at least once every other day to bring Axinite lunch, and to make sure he had water to drink, and even sat in his office and just… didn’t talk. They both needed a chance to breathe, and Kamacite felt comfortable around Axinite. He only hoped that his presence would be enough to deter others from bothering him for maybe thirty minutes.
Axinite had already grown accustomed to these visits, and he found that he appreciated them more than he could have imagined. He spent so much of his day working, or keeping busy that he almost never took time to slow down or take a moment for himself. His mind felt like a constant barrage of thoughts and obligations, but when Kamacite visited, things quieted.
It was more than just peace from everyone else, it was peace from himself as well.
He was slightly stooped over his desk, reading over a stack of paperwork in front of him. He had one elbow on the table and his forehead was pressed into the palm of his hand as he reviewed it. His other hand was curled around a warm cup of tea and he’d been absently stroking the smooth glass until Kamacite spoke.
His eyes lifted immediately and focused on him after his question. Axinite was only quiet for a few brief seconds as he tried to take in Kamacite’s posture and demeanor.
Before he answered, he sat up a little straighter and lowered his hand to the desk. “Targets for what?”
Kamacite pressed his lips together and stared harder at his tea, as if doing so would keep his face from flushing red. It was probably a stupid question. He knew Axinite had more important things to do than pretend as if he cared, so Kamacite could only assume that his kind gestures were genuine.
But there were other officers who thought the Senshi of the Negaverse were useless or no better than the White Moon aliens that were trying to take over the Earth.
He opened his mouth to try and explain, but the words didn’t come out, so he closed it and tried again after a few more moments. He was grateful for Axinite’s patience, although he felt as if he was wasting the little bit of quiet time he allowed himself with Kamacite’s visits.
“If--”
The words got stuck again. He had no idea how to explain himself without sounding like he was paranoid. And yet he could still feel the eyes of the youma on him, and surely the other Senshi with him, when they’d been in the Rift. They were barely respected, if at all, by those the Negaverse considered part of their forces or allies as it were.
He tried taking a deep breath to settle himself, which only made him feel stupider for asking a question and not knowing how to follow up with an answer.
“I don’t know. Sorry…” he finally mumbled, deciding he had asked a stupid question.
Axinite was nothing but patient and he sat rather still as he watched Kamacite.
Watched the way he stared into his tea. Watched the way he tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. Watched as he tried to calm himself but could find nothing to ease him.
He probably could have stayed sitting there, waiting for Kamacite to find his words, but he couldn't help but wonder if the silence was only adding to whatever anxiety that had begun to build in Kamacite’s mind.
“I don’t think Negaverse Senshi should be seen as targets, no,” he answered, but there was the perpetual concern because he didn’t just want to answer, he wanted to know why the question was being asked in the first place.
“Has someone been giving you a hard time?”
Has someone been giving him a hard time?
“No, sir,” he said softly, still staring at his tea. No one had been giving him a hard time. Not directly. Not since Aquamarine decided he was either useful enough to not care about, or decided that ignoring him would be a better use of his energy.
But it didn’t matter if he was being given a hard time directly or not. It was the expectation that he -- that others like him -- would turn traitor due to what they were. They were Senshi, and many of them used to be part of the White Moon before joining the Negaverse.
“How many officers are frustrated or angry when they bring someone to you? When they bring those most likely to be Senshi?” Kamacite somehow found his voice to ask, and then shook his head because he knew it probably seemed out of the blue.
“General Wolfeite… he was furious when he realized I was a Senshi. He tried to change me himself, and when he couldn’t, he brought me to you. I thought he was going to kill me. I don’t think I left a very good impression when he brought me here. I don’t remember most of it. I was afraid that General Jet would be the same with Misha -- with Cymophane. But he seemed more disappointed in himself than Misha.”
Thankfully, Misha seemed to be doing well with General Jet, who seemed much more even tempered than Wolfeite was. At least where allies were concerned. If Negaverse Senshi could be considered allies.
Axinite’s frown deepened as he listened, and he watched Kamacite with a curious worry. “I didn’t know General Wolfeite frightened you. He seemed like he was in a rush to get you in and out, but I don’t think you made a bad impression here. I thought he was just eager to prove himself. It’s not a poor reflection on oneself to find a Senshi. I just think, sometimes, pride gets in the way. I don’t think anyone likes to ask for help.”
He felt like Kamacite was still skirting the issue, but he had unending patience and didn’t want to try and rush him. Or worse, scare him.
“There’s no reason to be disappointed in a Senshi. In finding one, or being one. You can do things I can’t dream of. Anyone can hold a weapon, but not everyone gets to have magic.”
He spoke gently, maybe because Kamacite had a sort of softness about him that Axinite didn’t want to disrupt. He’d gotten used to relaxing when they were together, and if Kamacite trusted him to talk about something that was bothering him, naturally Axinite was going to be completely invested in it. He just didn’t want to give the impression that he was trying to rush Kamacite along.
The cup of tea was turned in his hands, if only for something to do. He still didn’t drink it, and he still hadn’t lifted his eyes. Perhaps if he did then he wouldn’t be able to say anything else. He didn’t want to disturb the quiet time they had together, even if they did nothing more than sit and drink tea and maybe eat lunch. But he had promised he’d talk to Axinite if there was anything that bothered him.
“Magic is useless when it hurts my allies,” Kamacite said just as quietly as he had everything else, but he paused to sigh and he shook his head, not wanting Axinite to think that he thought any of it was his fault, because it absolutely wasn’t. “I can fight an enemy on my own, but when there are others around? My magic just hurts everyone. I don’t want to use it if that’s the case. Even if someone closes their eyes, the magic will still seep through,” he explained, growing a bit frustrated with himself and it was perhaps most obvious in the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“I’ve trained to be able to handle physical combat. I can defend myself. But as a Senshi…? What use am I? Really? Other than a starseed. He took me into the Rift right after I left here,” he continued without pausing, because if he paused then he might not be able to say anything. “The name he gave me. Kamacite? It’s not even a mineral natural to Earth. It’s found in meteor impacts.”
Axinite’s frown had settled and now his brows were furrowing, too. “I didn’t know that, Kamacite. I’m sorry. Taking you into the Rift was incredibly irresponsible of him.”
He wanted to ask if the name Kamacite bothered him, if he wanted a new name. Or, if he thought Wolfeite might have just chosen a random name--if Kamacite hadn’t been deliberately chosen for its unnaturalness.
But those things were petty, and beyond the point. in its unnaturality
“I can’t think of any reason why he should have done that.”
He knew it was in the past, he knew there was nothing to undo it. The only reason he said it was because he wondered if Kamacite thought he deserved to be treated like that. If he thought that was normal.
“You can’t control your magic. You’ve done research on it, though?” he prompted. “What if it’s possible to have a Mauvian construct something your allies can wear to properly protect themselves? Or--have you measured active radius? A cohesive team,” his stomach rolled, “should know how to work with you. If they can teleport out of range, you wouldn’t have to worry about them.”
Kamacite shook his head lightly, not wanting Axinite to think that he couldn’t control his magic, because he could.
“I can control it,” he confirmed out loud as he removed one hand from his teacup so he could look at his palm, as if that held answers for him that he didn’t yet know the right questions to ask. “I can’t control who is looking or in range without disrupting a fight. I can’t always wait for my allies to look away or get out of range when it’s the right moment to use my magic. But… I don’t have a team. General Wolfeite has been missing or out of contact. And of those I used to team up with… only Faustite came back. After two years. I don’t know if they’re just away on a mission or--”
Dead? Purified? Lost to the time that made no sense in the Rift?
Kamacite pressed his lips together, and his hand went back to clasping tightly to his cup.
“I can’t imagine I’d have many volunteers to help measure how far my attack reaches. It’s just… a flash of light. One of my old team kept sunglasses with him, at least. But… if it’s dark, it could just end up being more dangerous while they waited for me to use my magic.”
There was a lot involved with it, and he knew Axinite was just trying to help him, but if it was as easy as Axinite seemed to make it, then they needed to start getting all Senshi to learn about their magic right away.
Axinite’s expression shifted into something heavy with sympathy; it wasn’t a comfort to know that his team was dead, but he didn’t have to wonder if they were still out there. The lack of answers, of information was enough to leave him feeling antsy; he could only imagine how it must have picked at Kamacite’s thoughts.
“I would volunteer,” he said quietly, and even if it didn’t seem as if he’d put much thought into it when he spoke, he wasn’t the sort to think so brashly. He tended to put too much thought into even basic ideas, but he was always thinking about what could go wrong.
He spent a lot of time preparing for the worst.
“An effective team should know how to play off of everyone’s strengths. I believe that you can control it. I have no doubt in you and your abilities. I have somewhat wavering doubt when it comes to everyone else’s ability to work as a team. But not you.”
“Any team you’re working with should have a code word or something, so they know to teleport out of range. Honestly, I think you’d be an amazing asset for ambushes. If you go in first, you startle everyone. You use your magic, and then your team comes in while everyone’s still stunned. My team,” and, oh, how it hurt him to talk about them even now, “would sit down before every mission and go over everything we could.”
He spoke like he had to force himself to say anything about them, like every good memory was tainted by one bad one. Like he didn’t deserve to speak of them now.
“We always had a plan. We knew strengths and weaknesses and we were honest with each other if anyone was having any difficulties or reservations. It was never an attempt to show off, or steal the spotlight. It was about protecting each other and returning from a successful mission. Everyone had a part to play. You have one too, Kamacite. You’ll never be a target. You have a place here, an important one. You’re part of our team.”
Somehow, Axinite’s kind words were settling for him. He felt the tension ease a little from his shoulders, and even from his heart, and he glanced up curiously when he started speaking of the team that Kamacite knew no longer existed.
He could hear the pain in Axinite’s voice, and it felt as though his thoughts and memories were driving a knife into Kamacite’s own heart. He mourned for those he lost without closure for years now. Even with Faustite miraculously back from the Rift, and even though Misha had convinced him to leave the otherwise empty warehouse, Kamacite still cried at night sometimes.
Kamacite couldn’t remember if Axinite had ever shared something about his team before. But knowing that they worked together so well, that they prepared and knew each other and fought to come back from a successful mission--
Maybe it was being told he was part of our team that had Kamacite carefully rising to his feet. Whether Axinite just meant it in general, it didn’t matter. Kamacite was obviously part of the Negaverse, but that wasn’t really a team. Axinite saying he was part of a team after talking, albeit briefly, about his own team had tears filling Kamacite’s eyes.
The tea had been set down on the desk, and Kamacite carefully made his way around it so he could reach out and wrap his arms around Axinite’s shoulders. He knew it was probably highly inappropriate for him to hug a General King, but no one else was around, and even if Axinite’s heart didn’t hurt as much as Kamacite’s, he still wanted to try and comfort him, if only for a few moments.
“I want to be part of your team,” he mumbled softly, keeping his tears at bay as he leaned over Axinite to hug him tightly. “I trust you. And it’s not your fault.” Because Kamacite knew how easy it was to think what if and blame himself for not doing enough. He knew that Axinite might be the only one left from his previous team that had worked so hard together, which only convinced Kamacite that his team wouldn’t want him to blame himself. “It’s not your fault to be alive, Justice.”
Axinite’s response was halted by a myriad of factors; Kamacite standing wasn’t so much of a distraction as the wetness in his eyes, or the hug that followed, or the fact that he said his name, or--
That he said it wasn’t his fault.
Just because he’d gotten used to Kamacite joining him for a brief respite every now and then didn’t mean he’d become accustomed to the things he did or said, and this was twice now that Kamacite did something so unexpected that he found himself without words.
For a long moment.
He knew he couldn’t be trusted to talk about his team without getting some sort of emotional, but Kamacite had this unique ability to make him remember that he was human, and therefore, particularly vulnerable to such a topic.
He was hugging him again, and Axinite felt obligated to try and reassure him because Kamacite had either come here to cry or Axinite had made him cry. He wrapped a hesitant arm around him to return the hug, even if he couldn’t quite see very well, or hear very well. Even if his heart was pounding so loudly in his head that he felt dizzy, and his face felt so hot.
He was a General King. He wasn’t supposed to be weak.
But, no one else was here to see, and Kamacite was already crying, so.
“I’m sorry,” he said, because maybe he was apologizing to Kamacite, or to the team that wasn’t there. “I didn’t mean to say anything upsetting. Are you alright, Kamacite? Here,” he said, because he couldn’t just stay in the chair the whole time, and he was worried because Kamacite had already been worried, and now he’d only pushed him over the edge. He stood, and adjusted positions so he could return the hug and--hopefully--be a bit more soothing about it.
And to try and actually process Yuuri’s words. Not just hear them, but listen them.
His heart was pounding and they repeated in his head while he tried to figure out if he’d misheard.
He tried to speak over the echo. “It’s not your fault either, Yuuri. There’s nothing wrong with you being a Senshi. I like you exactly as you are. And, I’m honored to have you on our team. I think everyone should be.”
Kamacite waited patiently for Axinite to stand from his chair before wrapping his arms around him again, holding him tightly. They were close enough in height that Kamacite could comfortably rest his chin against Axinite’s shoulder.
But he shook his head when Axinite apologized -- Kamacite wasn’t upset because of anything Axinite said. He was upset for Axinite, because he knew what it was like to lose people he cared about.
Even as he tried to rub at Axinite’s back in an attempt to comfort him, Kamacite couldn’t stop the tears from falling, because he knew what Axinite was doing. He knew Axinite was diverting the attention away from himself. Maybe because he was embarrassed? Or felt like he shouldn’t show emotion? Well, if Kamacite couldn’t see his face, then did it matter?
He knew he should probably respond to Axinite’s compliments and his attempt at soothing him, but all Kamacite could do was cry onto his shoulder and smooth his hands up and down Axinite’s back as if it was Axinite who was the only one upset.
And it might as well have been.
Because Kamacite could feel the way his heart was pounding, could hear the strain in his voice. If Axinite wasn’t going to cry, then he would just have to do it for him.
For the loss of both their teams. For the guilt of being all that was left, at least for a little while for Kamacite. For not knowing what was going to come next -- what if his actions ended up putting Axinite or Faustite or Cymophane or Roselite in danger? There weren’t many people he considered his friends, but those four he did.
And he wanted to protect them as best he could.
Whatever Kamacite did, Axinite felt obligated to mimic; he didn’t know if it was some secret code Kamacite’s subconscious was sending him to tell him what he needed, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure he was okay.
Axinite had lost enough people.
He rested his chin on Kamacite’s shoulder and continued to breathe in careful, evenly-paced patterns, and he rubbed his back.
He didn’t cry; he hadn’t forgotten how to, it was just complicated. Whatever he was saying either was, or wasn’t, the right thing, and he couldn’t tell like this.
Axinite breathed a shaky little breath between his meticulously forced evenness. “It’s okay, Yuuri. You’re not alone. Thank you for worrying about me. I’m okay.”
Better now than he had been, but he’d forgotten what anything beyond functioning was like. He wondered if Kamacite was okay or just scraping by, but he had his suspicions that he could have benefitted from a few more check-ups.
His breath caught a little in his throat, as though he was being forced back to the ground. He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear his name from Axinite. Not when he’d said his name previously.
He held on for a while longer, before gently pulling back. He used the sleeve of his robes to mop up his tears, and then patted Axinite’s shoulder where he’d left a damp spot on his uniform, muttering a little apology as he did so.
“You’re not alone, either,” he said once he was sure he could string words together without blubbering. Kamacite suspected that Axinite would keep bottling everything up. It was safe. It was easy. It protected him from his past, and from what could hurt him in the future. It was why Kamacite did it, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if Axinite did the same. He didn’t blame him.
But there was a difference between not being alone while surrounded by dozens or more others who didn’t understand, whether out of ignorance or complacency, and not being alone when someone actually took the time to care. Axinite spent so many hours of his time caring about others, but was there anyone who took time out of their day for him? Kamacite had been trying to, of course. He’d been bringing lunches and water and just sitting and enjoying the silence, but there had to be more to it than that.
“I won’t let you be alone.”
It was a pretty arrogant and selfish thing to suggest. Maybe Axinite didn’t want him around. Or maybe he was so set in his ways that having someone getting into his business would be more stressful. But for as long as Axinite swore that he was okay, Kamacite wouldn’t believe him.
Axinite’s face was not as guarded as it usually was, and though he’d outfitted himself with a smile, it was as honest as it was dishonest.
And yet, he seemed to relax a few seconds after Kamacite tried to pat his uniform clean.
There were hurts that would never heal, and he smiled to hide those when he could. But, Kamacite’s compassion was genuine, and so was his response to it.
“Thank you,” he said finally. “I appreciate that. I appreciate you. You are welcome in my office anytime you need. Or want,” he amended.
He looked at Kamacite and perhaps felt a bit guilty; he reached into a drawer at his desk and withdrew a box of tissues. “Here,” he offered, because he tended to be prepared for anything he could predict.
A part of him wondered if this had ever been about Negaverse Senshi being targeted, or if the weight of everything was just hitting Kamacite at once. He wondered if he was taking care of himself, if he was processing things in a healthy manner.
Probably not, none of them were. It wasn’t enough to have a hospital, to have check-ins. They needed therapy and a spa day and to know that they were wanted and valued.
“...I feel a bit better, Kamacite. I just want you to know that. Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can do for you?” He could fuss; maybe he was just dehydrated, or not sleeping well, or just under more stress than usual. He wanted to pull out a blanket and usher Kamacite to the couch and let him rest for a bit, let him just breathe and know he was safe in Axinite’s office.
That he wouldn’t be forgotten, and he wouldn’t be abandoned.
Kamacite graciously took a couple of tissues from the box and used them to mop up his face and blow his nose, feeling rather ridiculous for getting so emotional in front of a General King. But Axinite was a General King who had lost a lot and was obviously still hurting. Kamacite was still hurting, so he could sort of understand.
He nodded when asked if he was okay, and then shook his head when asked if there was anything he could do. He didn’t want Axinite wasting more energy on him. Not when he’d already done so much. Axinite did so much for everyone. Checking in on him and making sure he was taking care of himself was the least that Kamacite could do. And if Axinite wasn’t taking care of himself, then Kamacite would just have to take care of him instead.
“Thank you,” he said as well, because he felt as though he needed Axinite to know that he was grateful for everything he did. It wasn’t as though there were others that made housecalls, or bothered to check in on how they were doing. In all of the two years when Faustite had been missing, he insisted on staying hidden, finishing his quotas as necessary so he wouldn’t be a burden on others, but mostly just keeping to himself. Had he known he didn’t need to be alone all that time--
Carefully, so as not to step on his stupidly long hair, Kamacite took a step back and moved to the other side of Axinite’s desk once more so he could sit down and finally take a sip of his tea.
The Space Cauldronx
Fin!