#chizuru nishiooji

[bluesidrasketchbook]

Recently got into Barristering, and felt immediately compelled to shout and point accusingly. Even while sorting out the details in some obscure infernal contract on shoelace import.

The character with the eyepatch is the lovely Chizuru Nishiooji by @zodiacoracle, the other two are mine.

Also, feel free to check out my Ao3.

#fallen london #fallen london oc #original character #failbetter games #fallen london fanart #phoenix wright

[saturatedworld]

The reflection calling himself Chizuru walks through the Parabolan jungle, away from where his other self is. He takes out a rook from his pocket, holds it tight and close. Red begins to flow from his fingers and soon his hands. The sickening familiarity allows him a kind of calmness, a distraction.

He knew he hated himself, but he did not expect it to be this upsetting to hear it said by himself to his face. He certainly did not expect himself to be so bold.

Suddenly Alyosha’s words, once said to him on the other side of the mirror, surfaced to his mind. That Alyosha will love him in place of the love he cannot give to himself.

“Alyosha, are you there?” He calls out. No answer. Nothing. “I guess not.”

Even in this realm of impossibilities, there are still things that he cannot do easily.

#chizuru nishiooji

[saturatedworld]

The Drumbeat of War

A final rumble of thunder and Chizuru is soaked with rain. The sky clears. The storm departs, its invitation delivered. He shrugs. “Well then.”

“War!” shouts a lamia slithering out from the now roofless cottage. “It’s finally arrived at my lil’ old home. Maybe the bigger ‘Kings will recognise me as a real full-fledged royal serpent if I can defend it.” The golden-haired youth clings on the drenched man. “You will help me, won’t you? This land you stand on doesn’t come cheap.”

“No, Tiny, I already paid the price, don’t try that now. Remember, Robin doesn’t like greedy landlords,” says Chizuru – the Fingerking gasps. “Beside, the stormcloud said we will be on the side of London – I think it’s best if we act as a neutral party. And personally, I…” He trails off. No further words come from him, but he frowns. War…

“Chizuru-han?” Aleksei, dragging his hundreds of veils along the wet ground, asks, “This doesn’t seem to be within our purview. Do you think we can refuse it?”

“Aleksei, I…” He sighs. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to carelessly refuse Parabolan powers, and we might get caught up in it anyway.”

A man arrives at the scene. He looks like Chizuru. He walks like Chizuru. He smells like Chizuru. The only difference is how he still has both of his eyes. Aleksei flinches at the new arrival. When Chizuru himself notices and stares at his double, the second Chizuru offers a deep bow toward the group. “Hello, my apologies for the lack of calling card! I came rushing when I saw the terrible weather all the way from the Chessboard.”

Tiny hisses. “Which Chessboard?”

“None of your business, little one.” He answers with the smile of a fox. He notices the veiled man whispering to his husband. “Now, if I may introduce myself, I am you.”

“You are my reflection,” replies Chizuru.

“That is one way to put it.”

“You are myself who becomes alive on a chessboard – in a game of struggles for intelligence and power.”

“Another way to put it – did you just hear that from your husband?”

A pause, then a single phrase: “I hate you.”

The reflection shrugs. “I hate you too.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I feel compelled to fill what my other self lacks.”

“What I lack? Me? I’d prefer you gone from my sight.”

“Rich, coming from you. Well, you see, I agree! I didn’t hide from you for this long for no reason. But I’ll always be in you. I didn’t come from nothing.”

“It would be better if you weren’t in me. You’ve caused me many regrets I still hold today.”

“And leave your people with no capable leader? Don’t be ridiculous.”

As the bickering continues, Aleksei bits his lip. Is this what it’s like in his husband’s head, with his melancholic airs filtered out? He only thought that telling Chizuru about his reflection would help smooth over the conversation. He steps forward. “Okay, Chizuru-han… both, you should take a step back and—”

“Quiet, Aleksei!” “Silence, Alyosha!”

“Wait, why do you get to call him that? That’s not fair.”

“Ha? Not my fault that you are so awkward you can’t even ask your own husband about his name.”

“I’m respecting his boundary! He doesn’t even know much about himself yet.”

“Me? I’ve been calling my Alyosha that since long.”

“Your Alyosha?!”

“The one that went missing since your Alyosha lingered on this side for too long! He’s terribly shy, don’t you know?”

“Your— Well, of course I know! He can’t do much without his cover identities, but we are working on changing that.”

“...So this is what Chizuru-han thinks of me,” says Aleksei to himself.

“Sounds like he thinks you’re a helpless wallflower of some kind,” replies Tiny.

“Anyway, we are getting sidetracked too far,” says the reflection at last. “Back on topic, you have heard from the stormcloud, right? The wars of Parabola are heading toward this direction. Now be honest, do you actually wish to be involved?”

“I think of all people, you’d know the answer to that without me saying it.”

“And that’s why I’m here. You, my peace-loving self, tired of bloodshed, may stick to diplomatic and strategic works. I shall take over the reign – defend the fort and lead the campaigns. Meanwhile you can stay in this nice little cottage—” He pauses as he remembers what the storm did to the area, and makes gestures with his hand. “It will be nice again very soon, and you can keep it as a safe resting space in your fight for our cause, as it has always been.”

“...Right.” Chizuru nods; his head feels heavy. “I know you – I’ve been you. I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you too.”

“But you’re myself who is best at this work. You won’t… you won’t sacrifice people needlessly, right?”

“‘Need’ is something that will be defined as we go, but yes.”

“I will trust that our values are not too different, so without… well, what makes me me, you should be able to reach decisions faster, and I hope that will also lead to less casualties on both sides—”

“Both sides?” The reflection scoffs, “Come on, now. This is war.”

“Yeah, d__n those savage cats!”

“Tiny, again, we will be a neutral party.”

“Yes, but I’m a Fingerking.”

“Okay, but what is this for you?” Chizuru asks his reflection again, ignoring the serpent. “What do you want, suddenly showing up now?”

The reflection shrugs again. “Well, as I said earlier, I just feel compelled to help you toward your ideal, even if my very nature is the opposite of it. I can do what you normally lack the will for. Like it or not, I’ve helped in keeping you around for this long.”

“You don’t want anything else? This sounds too good to be true.”

“What? I’m not some kind of malicious spirit that causes damage without rhyme or reason. You know it’s not in our nature to.”

“It’s exactly because it’s not in our nature that I’m concerned.”

“You got me there. Well, you said I’m you who become alive on the chessboard, right? That’s correct, and with that I’m also the part of you who was born a ruler – the king of one chessboard, if you will. And I think, in order to become an effective ruler, one needs a semblance of power. Are you following me so far?”

“Regretfully.”

“I wish to fulfill my calling as a king.”

“Do you know how much I wish to shed that shell?”

“I do. But I’m your reflection. I will be the opposite of your desire in some manner, and we complete each other that way.”

“Aleksei?” Chizuru turns toward his husband and advisor. “What do you think?”

“...I’ve heard a saying in my stay in this land: one ought to be responsible for their reflection, what your reflection does will be accounted as yours.” A sudden breeze; Aleksei’s veils flutter. He continues, “I’ve never met mine, though.”

“Wise,” says Tiny.

“Alyosha is right. You won’t be able to escape the war completely; I’m still an extension of you, after all,” says the reflection. “Actually I was expecting you to check on me at some point. That’s what I would do.”

“...Right. Right. I understand now.” Chizuru sighs. “I don’t like the idea of relying on… on you, but I will take the offer. I have enough on my plate in the Is already, and I never wanted to be part of the conflicts in this land to begin with, so…”

Chizuru trails off, but his reflection doesn’t need him to complete his words to know. “Understood. Our feelings about our methods may differ, but I won’t betray you.”

With that concluded, his fox-like smile returns to his face. “Well, thank you for your time! I’m glad it turned out to be a productive conversation.”

“If I may ask…” Aleksei raises his voice again, “Are you still looking for your Alyosha?”

That one question was enough to melt the air around the reflection into a familiar melancholy. “Perhaps I am.” He turns and walks away.

The second storm is finally gone, and Tiny has left too, both their amusement and cosy cottage no more. With just him and Aleksei left, Chizuru is finally able to relax. He leans on his husband’s shoulder, whispering, “Tired.”

“Yes. But our cottage is gone.”

“I want to go home. To London. Eat Vera’s cooking.”

“Okay. I hope our mirror is safe.”

“I want to see Camellia.”

“Okay.”

“We will get dragged into this war anyway, right? Just like today.”

“Unfortunately, we probably will.”

“Stay with me.”

“Of course.”

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov #tiny

[saturatedworld]

Hallowmas 1898 Confession

The Duke asks for a confession of love, of the heart's tenderness and its disloyalty. You give him as much as you are able: love comes in many kinds, and its betrayals are numberless.

"My mother's love was pure, there was no lie in it. At least, that's what I choose to believe."

"I may have loved my father, though we could never see eye to eye until the end."

"Nagato... I'm sorry, it was my fault that I couldn't gather the courage to choose you."

"I loved and made love, but it was all empty, and they all died away."

"Then I met him. I fell for him. It would be a lie to say I never wanted him for myself. But I have taken so much from that child, I must never take more."

"I lost an eye because of love and hatred so blinding. To my surprise, it has taught me new joys since."

"I'm not a good spy, and neither is he."

...

An anonymous confession printed in a newspaper. Was it written with a purpose in mind?

The board taught me: love is a fragile thing; it struggles to survive the winter. Yet I still yearn for it, I cannot look away from it, and if I am a fool for this, I am glad to have someone equally foolish by my side. When this confession comes to light, we would have met among the statues and pagodas to swear an oath.

#chizuru nishiooji

[saturatedworld]

Checkmate

The Feast of the Exceptional Rose comes to a close again this year, and once more, there he sits in the living room wearing a cat mask.

“So...” Chizuru begins while stirring his tea, “Are you here to end my life today?”

Leonard takes off his mask, his expression sour. Instead of answering, he wolves down the macarons and tea without regard to appearance. And he still looks at the host with contempt.

“Oh, do you like that? It’s from the new bakery down the street.” Chizuru asks, noticing how fast the macarons disappear from its plate.

“Shut up. You tick me off.” Leonard snaps.

“E-Eh…? Then should I have not brought out the tea? Should we have gotten straight to the point?”

“In the first place who on earth would serve refreshments to their would be murderer? Bloody airhead.” Leonard takes another sip of his tea and grumbles, “It’s unbelievable how dear father died to make someone like you into the head of the family.”

“Ah, I know right. What a turn of event.” Chizuru places down his cup of tea, untouched.

“And you dared to throw it all away and show your face to me.”

“...I'm sorry.”

“You disgust me. My dear father deserved better. I wish I could kill you.”

He wished he could. The meaning of those words pricks Chizuru's heart.

“I knew I should’ve killed you the moment we first met again. I shouldn’t have let you loose. It’s always like this, you and your charm. People will run to side with you. Always, always, always…”

“You… should kill me anyway,” murmurs Chizuru.

“And get everyone suspicious and hate me?” Leonard hisses. “Just so you know, since I came to this city, I've rebuilt everything from scratch. I built my own rich, my own reputation, my own connections. Everything. Do you intend to steal my hard work away? Destroy it? Again? Just like what you did to my father and I back then? I hate you. I hate you so much. And I hate even more that I can’t touch you.”

“I don’t understand either,” says Chizuru weakly, casting his sight down. “I thought it was my value as the heir, then as the head of the family. But now I have nothing, there are still people who…”

Leonard stares at his cousin with a look of annoyance and contempt. "There is a limit to ignorance, did you know that? And you somehow—"

The verbal lashing Chizuru prepared himself for never came. When he looks at the young man again, the latter is staring at the door leading to the dining room.

Leonard stands from his seat. With light footsteps, he walks toward the door and opens it, revealing a scarred housemaid and a certain visitor from the surface. The three of them exchange looks.

“Chizuru-han!” The visitor suddenly shouts, “I told you to not give in to your cousin’s demands, didn’t I?! And we will find a way to keep you alive?! You are worthy, Chizuru-han! So don’t give in!”

Leonard frowns. “You have a noisy dog.”

“Who are you calling a dog?!”

“You heard him, Aleksei. Please quiet down...” says Chizuru from his seat.

Aleksei gasps. He looks as if he was about to say something, but instead he goes to seat himself right next to Chizuru, glaring at the other guest.

Leonard folds his arms, watching Aleksei go. He then asks the housemaid, “So do you have anything to say too?”

“Yeah, the master is lax and pays well. It’s hard to find employment as comfortable as this one, so I’d appreciate it if you let him live and keep paying me.” She answers, one hand resting on her hip. (“Is that how you view me, Vera? A bank?” mutters Chizuru.)  Her sight diverted from Leonard, she adds, "But more importantly, mum would be disappointed if she heard of you killing a family member. Really disappointed.”

Leonard gives no reply as he observes the people in the room; the person he hates the most and the people drawn to him. He knew that already. How much he would pay for a fraction of that innate talent. He knew, that is why—

“A checkmate.” Chizuru tilts his head. “Is that what you are thinking now?”

With a click of his tongue, Leonard replies, “That’s right! Are you happy now? I can’t kill you. It’s my loss.”

A sad smile surfaces to Chizuru’s face. “I’m sorry, Leonard.”

“I don’t need your pity,” hisses Leonard.

“That’s right, Chizuru-han!” injects Aleksei. “Be more—” He swings his fist in the air in place of words. Leonard scoffs.

A chuckle escapes from Chizuru’s mouth. “That is not needed now.” With that, he returns his attention to his cousin. “Perhaps it’s arrogant of me to say this, but I don’t wish for us to remain enemies. I’m too tired to keep up with you, too tired for another game of chess. So if you won’t kill me…”

“I won’t forgive you for what you did,” says Leonard. “Never.”

Chizuru only smiles.

Leonard takes his mask from the table and puts it back on. As he puts his hand on the door, he hears his cousin calls for him again, followed with: “Thank you, for giving me another chance.”

Something stirs inside him, something sickening. Leonard leaves without turning back even once. Laci and the Madam better be happy for his decision.

#leonard west #chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov #vera osborne

[saturatedworld]

“But that is why—”

Aleksei knows this place. This vast whiteness, contrasted by black bark. This is a dream which may not be a dream. He remembers: he ingested a certain pill from his superior before he went to sleep. Right. He steps forward. He ought to find what must be done in the woods.

———————

Not too long ago, he hinted at a long held desire in a correspondence: he wished to be stationed in the fallen city of London. He did not state his reason, but for anyone who knew his history, there was only one possibility.

He was aware this wish would not be granted easily, painfully so. Still, he worked hard for it. With each visit to the city, he would bring back more valuable, desirable information.

At last, he received a small package in his lodgings in Vienna. It contained a translucent pill, silvery liquid with a hint of emerald inside it. Alongside it was a short message: “Prove.”

———————

The wind blows; a sharp coldness bites his uncovered skin. He shivers. The path is just as barren and harsh as he remembers it, it’s almost nostalgic.

He knows this place. He has been here before. Once, in the imagined woods, he chased after and killed himself again and again. In another time, he chased after the shadow who taught him his art and put it to an end too. Each time, he would emerge from the woods as a new person, with a new fake name, new forged past, new uncertain future.

He continues walking through the snow, a single question in his mind: should the worst possible scenario happen, is there another way to solve this task?

———————

“You are not a good spy, aren’t you?” That man said in a gentle dialect, almost like a song. His position as the head of the family wasn’t just for show; if the rumours were right, this man had lived his whole life spying and spied on, all in a dutiful dance with death. It was no wonder he saw through the young agent.

After that, the man never said a word about the agent’s true identity anymore. It was the opposite: he invited the agent into his life with his words and actions. The agent learned more about the man, about the circumstances surrounding his succession, about his desire to bring change to his family and country, about the ‘Queen’ he fell in love with on the chessboard.

There was no telling which stories were true and which were false at first – feeding your enemy with false information is a tried-and-true tactic in the war of intelligence, after all. The agent raised his guard and continued to move carefully. Regardless, something about the man began to captivate him, and eventually a wish to return the man’s invitation grew.

Ah, he realised, but he had nowhere to invite the man to.

———————

“Oh, Aleksei! Never expected to see you here.”

“Chizuru-han… why are you here?”

He thought he had found his target behind the veil of snow and wind. He had approached with the intent to kill, but this was not the person he expected. No, he didn't want to expect this. He grimaces.

“I was looking for this little one since it couldn’t find its way home. I got too worried to sleep properly,” Chizuru answers. Within his cradle is a sorrow-spider the size of a cat, wrapped in a blanket.

That is just like him.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, it’s dangerous,” says Aleksei. “Come on, I will walk you home.”

“You are right. Thank you.”

This is a dream. Please let this be no more than a dream. The last thing he will do is to hurt the man by his side. Of course this ends up being the task. It should have been obvious. It must have been obvious to anyone but him. This is why he is—

“You are not a good spy, you know?” says Chizuru suddenly, his voice gentle as ever. “Why don’t you quit?”

Aleksei stares, dumbstruck. Did he read his mind? After composing himself again, he lets out a small laugh. “As if it was that easy.”

This should have been easy. There are only the two of them and a weakened sorrow-spider now. Chizuru keeps only one weapon on his person: a dagger hidden under the sleeve of his left arm, and the competence to use it. His fatal weakness is his lack of will to fight. Unfortunately for Aleksei, he can feel this very person draining away his will to fight as well.

Will it just end like this? With him unable to prove the worthiness of his wish? For now, the woods of black and white still seem vast and endless.

“You have a point, Chizuru-han,” says Aleksei, pocketing his freezing hands. “But unlike you, I don’t know anything beyond this trade.”

“I wonder.” Chizuru rushes a few steps ahead and turns around again. The wind blows, and he glows in the light reflected by snow. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to kill me?”

Aleksei sighs. “There you go speaking like that again…”

“You can’t fool me,” says Chizuru without taking his eye off Aleksei. “It’s a pale reflection, but this is still that place. And I’m not a spy now, but you are. There is only one reason why we are here.”

“Chizuru-han…”

“There is no need to hesitate. You have something you wish to see beyond the woods, don’t you? If it’s by your hand, I…”

“No,” says Aleksei with a wince. “That isn’t the answer. That isn’t it. Stop speaking like that.” His hand shivers as it grips on the folded knife in his pocket. “Please.”

Aleksei freezes in his place. If he killed Chizuru, he would lose his only human connection. If he killed himself, he would lose his current self. Either choice will cost him his chance to have a place to belong. What should he do now?

“Truly, you are not a good spy, Aleksei.” Before Aleksei noticed, Chizuru now stands right in front of him again. “But that is why I like you.” Those words, that voice, they are a lullaby to Aleksei’s ears, melting his uncertainties away.

Slowly, Aleksei brings out the folded knife from his pocket – it glints with cold light. Chizuru tilts his head as he watches. The knife falls from Aleksei’s hand, and it sinks and disappears into the snow.

“Is that your answer?” asks Chizuru.

Aleksei nods. “Sorry, we have to part ways here. But I swear I will go to your side, I will find another way.” He takes the man’s hand and declares, “So please wait for me.”

“Yes, I will,” answers Chizuru with a smile.

A harsh wind blows, once again raising the white veils in the woods. The two stand firmly as the black barks around them do. It will not be easy, but we will meet again.

“Ah, by the way,” says Aleksei before he loses sight of the other man. “You aren’t a good spy either!”

Chizuru blinks, then laughs. “No, I’m not.”

Yes, we certainly will.

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov

[saturatedworld]

Premonition

When he comes to, he finds himself in a town lit by gaslamps. Is this still London? But there are no false-stars, and it is so quiet he can hear his every step, every movement. Has the Liberation taken place? But if so, there should be no shining gaslamps to light the road.

He turns around, and only now he noticed: a slightly open door, a pleasant melody streaming like a creek, a delicious smell wafting as a wordless invitation. It would be unwise to lower his guard so easily, but perhaps that is what he needs?

The door opens with the ringing of a bell. Inside is a warmly lit dining room, the tables decorated with a vase of roses each; a restaurant? The music has stopped, but he can see a piano in one corner. Strange, the place does not seem to be abandoned, but there is no one.

“Good evening, sir.” A soft, chilly voice comes from behind him. He turns around and there stood a man behind him; since when has he been there? The man, taller than him and immaculately dressed, smiles. “Welcome to my humble place. Please allow me to take you to your seat.”

The waiter motions a gesture and takes the lead, and the guest follows despite his own bemusement. As the waiter tends to his wants and needs, he cannot help but notice how pale the waiter is. His skin is white as snow, his hair is dark as his attire, and the steel blue of his eyes is the only colour in his otherwise monochrome appearance. He looks almost like a ghost.

While enjoying the starter – a bowl of lightly flavoured soup –  he takes the time to observe his surroundings, but the roses decorating the tables caught his attention the most. The red of the roses feels familiar, has he seen it before? And they look dry, as if the petals have been plucked off and reattached to the stalks.

The ringing of a bell announces the time for the main course. The waiter shows up again with a trolley to swap the emptied bowl with the next dish. With an elegant hand, the waiter lifts the silver dome covering the dish, and there sits the severed head of a beloved person.

His memories and awareness come rushing into his mind in an instant.

He caresses the long, silky hair, just as he used to play with it. He gently touches the cheeks, as he used to in their intimate moments. He brings their lips together to his, those lips that used to whisper sweet words for him only. He embraces that fragment of his beloved tightly, as if trying to bury himself in the memories they shared together.

This is a dream. A painful reminder. In reality, he was too late. He did not even have the chance to see his beloved’s corpse before flame turned it into floating ashes. Dried rose petals and a name were the traces that the murderer left behind for him to follow. He remembers. He remembers and he will have his revenge.

“It was for the sake of our Game.” Across him now sits another person, clad in fine silk. “Soon,” they intone as blood trickles down from their mouth. “You will sink your dagger into another flesh, just like you did to me.”

Shut up.

A sneer forms on their face. “A shame about my death, but I’m glad you have grown into such a fine Nishiooji.”

You are a ghost. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“You and I are the same at the end. You are one of us, Viscount.”

When he tries to speak his mind, he awakens in his bed. No restaurant, no roses, no trace of his beloved. Only him alone with a stinging pain in his chest.

#chizuru nishiooji #fuyuki k

[saturatedworld]

He Who Was King

“Ah, Aleksei. Good to see you today.”

“Good evening, sir. I bought snack.”

“How considerate of you! Please come in.”

Another visitation day, another stack of documents to sift through. Neither of them wanted it, yet there he is, welcoming and gentle as always. The smell of freshly brewed tea wafts from inside and clings to his haori. The bandage covering where his left eye was looks clean and soft too. Chizuru Nishiooji is doing well, or at least putting on the appearance which gives the impression.

“I see, so these are the candidates they chose.” Chizuru nods to himself as he reads the documents.

“Sorry it came to this. I know you didn’t want to….”

“This is the agreement we reached. There is nothing to regret about it.” Chizuru says while writing notes on the documents.

Aleksei stirs his tea. Nothing to regret, he said? Aleksei holds no regret; this is his job. But for the person in front of him?

"You are taking this well. As expected of the Viscount of Nishiooji."

Chizuru’s pen twitches. “Am I? I’m surprised they still want to hear my opinion.” He casts his sight down. “They will educate the new heir without me; my words won’t matter."

That would be the most sensible thing to do, more efficient on their resource.

“In hindsight, wasn’t this my own fault?” Chizuru continues, “It wasn’t that I didn’t want a successor; I didn’t want one for politics. If I wasn’t so stubborn, I would have been able to raise someone with my own philosophy.”

“So you do regret something,” comments Aleksei,“I’m guessing this is why they call you the Rueful Ex-Diplomat.”

Chizuru lets out a soft chuckle. “I have many regrets, that much is true. It’s an unusual custom, isn’t it? That pseudonym thing.”

“Yes, it was unheard of before the Fall. It surely adds character, in my opinion.”

And that was the last of the document. Chizuru takes a bite of his Sachertorte slice, the gift from his guest.

“Delicious….” He says, savoring the sweet chocolate taste. “So, are you living in Vienna now? I enjoyed my stay there. The coffeehouses have lovely menu.” His voice now has a relaxed, melodic tone to it.

Hearing such relaxed tone, a sense of relief lulls Aleksei as well. “That is so.”

“I see. Maybe I should get a messenger bat then, or a raven. I would like to keep in contact with you.”

“Bats are pretty common in Vienna. I have heard they are sturdier than they look.”

“They really are, it surprised me! Nothing like the bats in the Empire.” Chizuru laughs.

Ah. He can laugh so freely right after going through something he dislikes. The hollowed eye socket must be still hurting too. Despite this, he still looks and sounds so charming.

The conversation continues carelessly as they talk about trite topics; the food, the weather, the people. Cities above and cities below.

Aleksei has observed the Nishioojis for several years, yet something about the young family head has always fascinated him. The way he wears his masks is alike yet different from the rest of his family or how spies like Aleksei use them. Before he realized, they have become close.

“You should come visit again when they have festivities going on. London’s festivals are nothing like anything on the Surface!” Chizuru says. His slice of Sachertorte is now halfway eaten.

“Yes, sir! I can’t wait for them too.”

“The Feast of the Exceptional Rose just passed recently. Honestly, it was lonely enjoying it all on my own.” He chuckles. His gaze softens, reflected on the surface of his tea.

Yes, they were close once, until the death of Nagato Konoe brought everything to an abrupt halt. Chizuru's eyes have always looked sad, but since that day, there is an emptiness in his remaining eye.

“I have heard of the Feast before. Strange, grotesque gifts with many messages. I think Konoe would have loved it,” says Aleksei. It was obvious to him what the Ex-Diplomat’s gaze meant.

“Right? He loved those things.” See? Bingo.

“Yes, so I think he would be happy to know you enjoying it as well.”

Huh? What was that familiar feeling? As if he was pricked by a pin out of nowhere.

A big spider scutters across the wall, its tiny steps audible in the silence. The smile on Chizuru’s face fades for a moment before returning in full. “Are you trying to cheer me up? How very nice of you.”

“I can’t afford to have you die of sadness on me now, after getting me relocated all the way to Vienna and this city.” Aleksei sips his tea, watching the man before him. Calm down, don’t lose sight of your purpose now.

Chizuru, meanwhile, only laughed. “Aw, I thought you liked this place. You were so enthusiastic when I met you.”

“Not enough to move in to it. The food is terrible.” And that was a mask, obviously; is Chizuru messing with him?

“Ah, well. No helping that.”

Aleksei continues observing Chizuru from behind his cup of tea. Perhaps now is the time to ask him about business again. Chizuru tilts his head, as if expecting it too. He places the cup of tea and its plate back on the table between them, then asks, “We agreed that we won’t force you back to the Surface before you finish your business, but what about after?”

“I don’t know.” Chizuru shrugs lightly. “Will you? I don’t even know if I will still be alive and strong when I find the chance to enact my plan.”

Aleksei shakes his head. “Unless there is further order from above, I will support you and your decision, whatever it will be. We are friends, aren’t we? And Konoe was my friend, too. Please do what you feel is right to honor his memory, as the person closest to him.”

Hearing that, Chizuru gives him one of his gentle, resigned smiles. “Thank you, Aleksei.”

Aleksei doesn’t like to admit it, but he and Konoe shared something in common: that they were worried about Chizuru, for spreading himself too thin. It feels heavy to admit it. Perhaps his death hit Aleksei harder than he thought.

Chizuru’s act of rebellion was selfishness, but truth be told, Aleksei was glad for it. Chizuru now is prioritising his own wishes instead of merely trying to please the whims of his family. Yes, it may feel odd to see the emptiness in Chizuru’s eye, but Aleksei can’t help but feel fascinated by the current Chizuru too. Will that emptiness be filled? What kind of person will he be then? Aleksei wants to see that, not as a pawn, but as a person who treasures someone dear.

He hopes he will be able to see that.

“I did hear that if we live long enough here then sunlight will become lethal… will you support me too then?”

“Please don’t joke about that. It was bad enough that you took out your own eye.”

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov

[saturatedworld]

Moonlight & I

“Promise me you won’t ever leave me?”

“Silly Chi. We’ve been together for as long as we can remember. Why would I leave you now?”

“...I guess you’re right.”

A conversation under the rain. My Chi, warm and fragile, breathing on my chest.

It has been a few years since Chi showed up at the Konoe family gate with a smile, a composed voice, and bloodshot eyes. The news had spread when he arrived; he finally accepted the title of the head of his family, the role he was raised for. The condition in which he accepted…

“Do you hate me now?” I remember he asked that day, “I took the easy, selfish way out.”

What was I supposed to say to that? The person who swore to never kill has finally claimed a life. His own family, nonetheless. Despite his composed tone and expression, his eyes and his clenched fists told a different emotion.

“I can't bear the thought of living without you. They will find someone else to blame now. But I…”

I pulled him into an embrace. It was inevitable. He did everything he could to stop the urge, but at the end he was no different than…

“No, you are not like them. The regret you feel now is proof to that. There, there. It was difficult, wasn't it? Don’t worry, I’m here for you.”

He is still Chi. One incident would not change who he is. My beloved Chi who would not hurt anyone on purpose.

A few weeks after the funeral, another news arrived that a certain someone has gone missing. The only son of the silk trader whose blood stained Chi's hands.

Chi didn't take that well. He always gets clingier when something is troubling his mind. He asks more questions, as if weighing the words he hears. “Am I truly different?” “Do you hate me?” “Why did I do that?” “Do you still love me?” “Will you stay?” “Why?”

Why?

“Because I love you, Chi.”

Why?

Because I have a role, too.

Every time bad news about his family arrived, in no time Chi would show up at the gate.

Our families enjoy an amicable relationship. More pragmatically, we have use for each other. As the youngest son of the Konoe family, as someone who has no chance to be chosen as the heir, a disposable pawn, the role chosen for me was to keep the heir of Nishiooji family in check. Chi is aware of this, and yet…

“Nagato? What’s wrong? You look pale.”

“Huh? No, I’m just thinking… if everything were different, would we still be together like this?”

“I don’t know.” He clutched my hand. “I don’t want to think about it.”

He wouldn’t let me go. “Of course. It’s hard to imagine if we didn’t.”

Neither of us would let it go. We don’t know when it happened. We don’t care enough to know when our game of pretend stopped being one.

Our families don’t approve our relationship, but neither do they disapprove us. Chi smiles as the face of his family and mediates conflict in it, and I keep him stable and report it to my father. The only time they come close is when they push us to get married and continue the bloodline.

Chi, for obvious reason, despises the very idea. He keeps refusing and avoiding, claiming he is busy with diplomatic works in the new capital. He doesn't want a false marriage, a false union, a false love. He, too, refuses to adopt a child for that reason.

Me? No one cares about what I do as long as I play my role and don't interfere with my father or older brothers. They look down on me, but I don't care about what they think as long as they don't harm Chi. I wish I could give a portion of this freedom to Chi; he needs it more than I do.

And yet, he refuses to walk away.

For someone who claims to hate his family, Chi strongly refuses to let them destroy themselves. It's not only once or twice he has come to visit, breaking in a sobbing mess as he laments about how he “failed”, how he couldn't “save them”, how he couldn't prevent “another loss”.

I never know what to say to him in this situation. There will be next time? There is no next time for a dead person. It was their fault they were greedy? That would be too harsh. The only thing I can do is reassure him of my trust and love for him.

“Nagato, listen. I will be leaving for Europe.”

Huh?

“Yes, it will be a while. A year… maybe more. I don’t know. I’m looking forward to it, actually. It would be nice to leave that house for a while.”

Of course. It was hardly surprising when he told me that; as always, distracting himself with work.

“I’ll miss you…”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Hey, can I come with you?”

“Eh? But this is business…”

“Hah, I know, I know. I expected you to say as much. You’re so straightlaced.”

Words flowed from my mouths thoughtlessly. How I wish I could do more for him.

“You know, Chi, I keep thinking, it would be nice if we could leave together. To somewhere else where we can be happy, just the two of us.”

How I wish…

“I - that would be great, but I can’t do that. I -”

“You have your family to attend to, right?” I wish I could hear a different answer for once. “You are too kind, but that’s why I love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I can’t do more for you. If I could, would you stay by my side always?

A few days after that, he departed, far beyond the sea. Nothing I can do but wait for him to return. This is fine, it’s just like the times when he went to the new capital for an extended period. But even longer, even further… He will send me letters, and before I know it he will be here again. I can’t wait for that day!

...That was what I thought.

I know I have said that I’m disposable, someone would come to kill me someday, but for that to happen for real… Where did you come from? Who sent you here? London? That’s where Chi was… Hah. I don’t know what will happen now. You might have released a monster, because the Nishioojis… all of them are… Chi… Chi won’t… he will know the right thing to do. I’m sure of it…

…

Ah, the full moon is shining tonight. There is no cloud in the sky, as they scattered like broken words, yet the moonlight is fading away….

#nagato konoe #chizuru nishiooji

[saturatedworld]

“CONFESS.”

February is over, and so is the Feast of the Exceptional Rose. Londoners have casted their masks aside and wrapped up gift-giving business as they return to their usual routine, until next year.

That was what Chizuru thought, until a man in a hooded cloak and cat skull mask showed up before his door. “Confess.” The masked man demanded again.

This is awkward. He needs to say something. Anything. “C-confess what?”

“Your errors.”

“E-eh…?”

Terribly awkward. What does this man want? Actually, has he met this man before? There is a sense of familiarity in how he pronounced his r.

They can’t keep standing there. Not to mention that day off is meant for rest; he still feels pain in where his eye was. Yes, that’s it. He slowly closes the door as he says, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not feeling well now, so I need to go….”

The masked man pushes the door open and barges in. Panic creeps in as well.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but—”

“Confess.” The masked man repeated again, this time in another tongue. A tongue Chizuru used to speak back in his old life, back on the Surface.

The hood slides off to reveal black hair. He knows this man. “Shiki-kun…?”

No reply. Chizuru closes the door, only the two of them together now. If this is his cousin, then it’s perhaps time to….

He puts on a warm smile. ”Please sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?” He asks, but still no answer. The panic that entered his mind earlier turns back into an awkward feeling.

When he returns with cups and a pot of tea, he is glad to see his guest has sat down—with the lack of response earlier, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see him still standing. After he has placed the cups and pot on the table between them, he asks, “Would you like to choose your cup?”

His guest, without any word, makes his choice with the gesture of one finger.

Two cups filled with tea, the aroma filling the space between them. Chizuru drinks from his cup first, then smiles as if reassuring there was nothing suspicious about the tea. Only then his guest takes off his mask.

His eyes are red. Redder than the tea he drinks. Red as wine. Red as blood.

The paining gap hidden behind his bandages throbs. Keep quiet now.

“You know why I'm here, right?”

“Shiki… no, sorry, it's Leonard now, isn't it?” Chizuru corrected himself. He glances at the door then the window. “Is Vlad here too?”

“He will not be happy when he finds out I have come to see you.” Leonard places the cup back on its saucer as he throws a sharp look at his cousin. “Please don't change the topic.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Leonard holds his mask on his lap, staring at his cousin in measured expectation. Chizuru, meanwhile, can only guess what his cousin wants from him.

His smile takes a resigned tone. “I'm sorry, I can't leave this city yet. There is still something I must do.”

No response. Is he mad? Well, he has every reason to be. With a stare that cold, what else could it be?

“Oh, don’t worry, it has nothing to do with our family in—”

“I know that.” Leonard replies, “It's hard to ignore how you conducted your investigations.”

Chizuru froze for a moment, like a child caught sneaking to steal from the cookie jar. After a while, he starts laughing. “Ahahah. I'm a mess on my own, aren't I?”

“You weren't on your own.” Leonard hisses, “You were with my husband.”

Chizuru paused again, recalling the words he has exchanged with the Romanian. When he has reassembled his thoughts, he replies, “I have told him to stay away from my business.” A sliver of regret in his tone. “But our goals overlap, so I suppose it couldn't be helped.”

Leonard’s expression hardens. “I saw you with Mrs Osborne too.”

“Oh, yes, she showed me around the University. A very kind lady, isn’t she?”

“How many more until you are satisfied?”

Those words froze Chizuru again. How many?

“You killed not insignificant number of players of the Game.” The hands holding the mask are trembling. “You killed my father.”

Chizuru casts his sight downward as he whispers one heavy word, “...Yes.”

“Do you plan to take my new family away too? I won’t let you.”

His stare is intense; it was as if burning flames gave colour to his eyes. He has yet to forgive. He may never will.

As the thought dawns on him, Chizuru’s already weak smile wavers. “You get it all wrong, Leonard. I don’t have such plan. I would never….”

“Laci—Vlad acts odd whenever he returns from seeing you. The madam too. It’s always like that. It happened to father too. They orbit you, and then….” The grip on the mask tightens.

“I never… intended any of that.” He murmurs. Memories from those days come rushing in.

“I will not let you take my family again. I refuse to go through that again, do you hear me?”

“I’m sorry.” One by one, each cutting him inside.

“Do you even know how I felt back then? Forgotten and ignored. Meanwhile you received attention from everyone, even my own father. And then you—”

“I.... I never wanted that. I never wanted any of that!” Chizuru at last raises his voice, silencing Leonard in turn. He remembers those days, when someone watched his every move. “I never wanted their attention! I never wanted to be in that position!” Those days, when they moved him like a pawn. “I never wanted to… I never wanted to kill your father.”

Oh, there he said it. The truth that he could never tell his cousin before. Leonard appears stunned by it.

Not long after, his lips twitched, followed by another barrage of words. “Why did you kill him then?! What was your problem?! What excuse do you have to make my life hell?!”

“Your father never knew boundary. He thought he could persuade me with enough promises, then threats. And I….” There was no excuse. He remembers it all; the conversation, his bloodied hands, those last words. His hands move to cover his face; he can’t face his cousin like this. “I’m sorry, Leonard. I lost myself. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect me to trust you?” Leonard asks, once again has regained control of his tone.

Chizuru shakes his head.

Leonard grits his teeth. “You—”

“I understand if you can't trust me. Even I can't trust myself either. I attract death. But please, please believe my story.” He shows his face again with his plea, to look at his cousin in the eyes. “I never wanted to hurt my own family. I’m sick of it all. If I hurt my new friends too, I would be….” Is his expression one of worry? Desperation?

“What matter does it change? You are still a murderer.”

Quiet again. Leonard is right; it doesn’t change the fact that he has taken lives. Chizuru knows he would be wary too if he was in his cousin’s position. Around him, calamity can befall one anytime, just like what happened to Nagato….

“Why did you kill players of the Game?”

The unexpected question interrupted Chizuru’s thought. Why? He tries, but he can't look at his cousin’s face again. It took a moment before he can answer, “It was an order… no, a request.”

“The Cheesemonger.” Leonard says, “I foiled her plan once. I thought the Aviary have silenced her, but….”

“I think she and I are the same—we are both sick of losing our families to the Game. And I’m sick of seeing my gentle approach failing to bring result.” A pause. Chizuru then shows his face again, revealing a pained smile. “I realized after everything was over: it’s all a lost cause, including myself.”

Leonard stands from his seat. From under the mask, he has pulled out a knife and pointed it at the neck of the man before him.

Chizuru, still smiling, tilts his head as he watches his cousin. “Can’t do now, Leonard. I have yet to avenge Nagato.”

“Why should I care?” Leonard hisses.

“You may kill me after that, if you wish so. I won’t run.”

Neither of them says anything. The knife in Leonard’s hand stays pointed at his neck. Chizuru keeps looking with a sad smile. A moment frozen by tension, as if it was eternity.

The first to break it was Chizuru. “An agent was sent by the family to bring me back.” He informs, “I refused him, but he insisted on it. So I threatened him, I will kill myself if he forced me to.”

Leonard stays still, unperturbed. Perhaps he now thinks that is exactly what his despicable, pathetic cousin should do.

Chizuru begins loosening the bandage around his head. “So to proof to him I won’t hesitate if it came to that, I showed him this.” The bandages fall off, showing a gaping hole. Red. Dark. Empty. Red. Red.

The knife wavers for a second.

“You can trust me to keep my words. You may kill me after I have finished that business.” Chizuru reassures him.

Red. The colour of the knife plunged into his shoulder. The colour of his eyes.

“Next time it will be laced with Cantigaster’s.”

Those words, too, felt as if they were coloured red. They bring a strange sort of relief.

When Chizuru notices Leonard walking toward the door to leave, he cannot help but stop his cousin by grabbing his shoulder. Leonard throws a glare at him without a second thought. Chizuru takes a step back, but he still needs to say it while he remembers.

“One last thing. It’s about your father… something I never got to tell you back then.”

Leonard, in silence, judges his words.

When he is sure he has his cousin’s attention, Chizuru continues, “Your father loved you until the end. The only names he said with his last breath were yours and your mother’s.”

For a short moment, Leonard shows a different expression than what he has had in the entire meeting. He puts his mask back on and departs immediately after.

And so it was set. He will kill the culprit responsible for the lost of his beloved’s life, and then his cousin may take his life for the same sin. The pain of his missing eye and his shoulder will be nothing. It can’t be more perfect.

Meanwhile, their tea has gone cold.

#leonard west #chizuru nishiooji

[saturatedworld]

When the Bells Toll

(These stories were written for Fallen London New Year’s Eve Competition.)

Joyful and Bright

"Oh, Leo! Here, help me cut these papers into postcards."

Leonard stares at the sight before them: colourful papers are scattered on a coffee table, joyful and bright, and with them are scissors, glues, and bottles of ink and paint. There are feathers lying about as well – either from the ravens perching by her side, or those patches of feathers growing between her hair. They turn around, muttering, "I'm leaving."

"Aw, Leo!" exclaims Meika again. "You tease! Did you get the potatoes?"

Once more, Leonard faces their friend and puts down the brown paper bag they brought among the papers and feathers. "What are you planning to do with these? Please don't tell me you are intending to…."

"I will make the most fabulous stamps," says Meika with a grin.

Are you a kid? As that question crosses Leonard's mind, they remember that yes, this woman is a kid inside her heart, excitable and reckless in her disposition. "At least," they say, knowing it's in vain, "organise your table. The ink and paint will get on the papers at this rate."

"It will be fine; it will be fine," she sings. "Say, don't you like crafts like this? Your work involves it, right?"

"I'm a scriptwriter, not a stagehand." Leonard sighs. "Never mind that… why don't you just buy the greeting cards? And will these cards even arrive before Christmas? It's now—"

Meika wags her finger. "No, no, these are New Year's cards! And it has to be handmade, else it won't be a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Yes, something unique and special for the turn of the century. Store-bought won't do; oh, they won't do. I will have my darling ravens deliver these cards so they may arrive at midnight," she explains while inspecting the potatoes, a raven watching from her shoulder. She then places one of the vegetables on a postcard and nods to herself.

Satisfied, she flashes a smile to her friend and asks again, "So, help me cut the papers, please?"

"I have no time for this, Madam," says Leonard with a huff. Childlike, indeed. Even so, perhaps her excitement would fit with all the fireworks and revels, joyful and bright. Crossing their arms, they add, "…I admit it sounds interesting, however. I shall look forward to a card from you."

***

Ice and Snow

In a daze, Leonard separates themself from a group of revellers, taking a needed break from the jolly hubbub. They stop to look down on the river from Hood's Bridge, watching the Drownies bob their wet heads between the fragile ice and snow.

They, too, were covered in ice and snow at several points in their life. They walked through cold dreams, cast in black and white, and they emerged as a new person.

They squint and check their ears; the Drownies have yet to sing their alluring, terrible song, but they can't be careless or the cost would be their dress for the evening. Shaking their head, they throw a quick glance toward where they came from, clamorous with a different kind of song.

The truth is, even as they laughed in that festivity, they never gave much thought to New Year's before. Yes, yes, the year ends and another begins, and the revels are entertaining, but then what? Nothing changes in London. Year after year, the city remains a dark place under her thin veil of hospitality, with all of the vices and depravity to indulge in.

Perhaps that is why New Year's revels appeal for the moment but never more in their heart. "New" is to change, to be reborn, and doing the same thing every year, throwing revels like any other celebrations, is no change.

"North."

The chilling word – a word from a page of their life – slips away from their mouth. They close their eyes, recalling the vast black and white they saw in their youth. Should they embark on another voyage? They cannot change the city, but perhaps they can change and be reborn once more with the ice and snow.

***

Warm and Gentle

"If we had cloves, we could make pomanders with these," says Aleksei while turning an orange over in his hand.

"Perhaps we could set some aside," replies Chizuru. "I would rather we eat them though; it's like back on the Surface again."

"Why so?"

"It's winter, the streets are snowed in, and we sit in someplace warm and eat oranges," he lists off, counting them on his rugged fingers. "Although back then we sat in a kotatsu instead of sitting by a fireplace like this."

Aleksei chuckles. "A typical winter over there, isn't it?"

Two men sit facing each other in a parlour, one drinking tea from a stained mug, and one peeling an orange – not cheap, down here in this season. On the table between them, a novel sits untouched next to a second mug and the basket of oranges. Pops and crackles come from the fireplace nearby, faint yet reassuring. Bliss.

That warm atmosphere is cracked by the sound of a sharp cough, suppressed in vain.

"Lyosha," whispers Chizuru, "perhaps we should turn in for the night."

Aleksei takes a deep breath before he replies, "It's fine. I'm fine. Just a little longer." He glances at the clock on the wall; it ticks and tocks in a steady rhythm toward midnight.

"Just a little longer then," repeats Chizuru with a resigned smile.

Another cough, and Aleksei grabs his mug for a drink; he can feel it soothing his throat, just a little. As he wipes fog off his glasses, he begins grumbling, "I was too busy last year, remember? And this year I just had to fall into the river and catch a cold."

"At least you didn't become a Drownie."

"Not when I had planned a dinner at Dante's with you. I won't let them drag me down," he says, putting his glasses back on. He stares into his mug and sighs. "But I suppose it no longer matters now."

"Ah, don't say that. I like dinner at home too," says Chizuru, leaning forward with a languid sway. "We even managed to grab some oranges while shopping for ingredients."

Aleksei pushes himself back into the sofa, as if it would bury him. "I told you, Chizuru-han. Don't get too close; you might catch my cold."

"Fine, fine."

Although he said that, Aleksei is still glad to have his husband sitting before him. Last year, an unpredicted Blemmigan propagation caught him off-guard, leaving him damp and soggy in Bugsby's Marsh even as the bells tolled in the distance. In another year, he was still on the Surface, and Chizuru had lost the light in his eye when they met again, fixated on one destructive goal.

Now his eye reflects the orange glow of the fireplace, warm and gentle.

Aleksei takes another glance at the clock; soon it will be midnight. "I hope we can spend New Year's together again next time."

"Mmhm. We will."

***

Soft and Serene

A song envelopes one nameless forest, soft and serene, ringing from a lone piano amidst the trees. As the sable-clad pianist sings through the black and white keys on his fingers, he peers into the hand mirror sitting on the desk in place of a partiture.

In the world beyond the mirror, snow covers the rooftops where the urchins run, either from upset adults or from themselves. Fireworks bloom in the dark sky, filling it with colours that it would not have known otherwise. People laugh and dance in the streets, celebrating a moment to come.

These are things that he is not allowed to partake in, for no matter how he may try, he cannot touch that world.

It brought him sadness before, in a close yet distant past. He longed to be with people again, to find company and escape from solitude, but the forest only had silence and slumbering souls blind to his true face. Even so, he persevered, and fate smiled at him once more: an encounter with a certain silver woman, carrying a similar pale and cold touch. The woman, a traveller of boundaries, spoke to him.

The song keeps on flowing with no sign of stopping, not soon. The piano is his only company now, but when the festivity beyond the mirror ends, his silver friend will return with a new book or several, and they will discuss it together over tea and cake.

He still yearns for that unreachable world, but he is glad to be allowed to wait for someone again. A small promise treated with sanctity, as befitting the tradition of the land. Until it is fulfilled, he will keep singing his soft and serene song.

***

In this time of the year, in this very moment

The end of the year comes approaching once more, and the Silver Lady, too, steps out of the mirror accordingly. Her white dress sweeps, blends with the so-called snow covering the city.

In this time of the year, she can come across those with the same cold touch as hers, delighting her with a particular sense of familiarity. Melancholy will slip into her mind when she dearly remembers only a miracle can overcome their transience, but in this time of the year, in this very moment when the city is embraced in tender coldness, she tries to forget that.

As she glides down the street, every now and then she will steal upward glances toward the towering obsidian spires, bright with fireworks and blazing sigils – the same obsidian as the mask covering her pale complexion, lit up by a joyous revel. When the bells toll for an end and a beginning, a serene whisper escapes from her blue lips, "My sweet home…."

#meika osborne #leonard west #chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov #fuyuki k #the silver lady

[saturatedworld]

Him, by the Chessboard

Today, too, Aleksei makes his way to the Moonlit Chessboard. The path forward has learned his presence, opening up before the tree branches and roots can catch the many-layered veils covering him. He departed with his usual intention: from here, where the impossible dwells, he will influence events to help his beloved.

When he arrives, the first thing to catch his sight isn't the board itself, but a familiar figure standing by it. Slicked back hair, a haori softening his silhouette. As Aleksei closes their distance, as his veils come shedding off, the smell of freshly brewed tea grows stronger. "Chizuru-han? What are you doing here?"

The figure turns around. Not him. He wears the same smell and smile, but it's not him. This Chizuru has both of his eyes. "I am me. This is where I belong. And you?" He asks, "Are you Alyosha?"

The veils thicken again. "...Chizuru-han never calls me that."

"So you are the one who came from the other side." He sits on a fallen pawn and sighs. "You have become more like my Alyosha now, and I have yet to see him in a while. Have you thought about that? How you have overstayed your welcome? What if my Alyosha never comes back?"

The hands in contact with the pawn begin to drip red. Blood? Whose blood? If this was the Chizuru he knew, Aleksei would have rushed over to make sure the man hasn't hurt himself again. Instead he asks, "Your Alyosha? What are you talking about? What are you?"

The man gives a deep stare, then a smile. "I'm Chizuru. More precisely, I'm the Chizuru repressed by the 'real' Chizuru. Tucked deep in his mind, given form in this land." He stands and climbs to the board, offering a crimson hand to his guest. "Come. You came here for a game, did you not? The pieces have yet to gather, but we can chat while we wait."

No response. Met with silence, he shrugs and walks over to E8. There, he continues, "Well, it's not that I have forgotten about me. You have seen it too, haven't you? My efficiency, or as my other self would put it, my ruthlessness. Things would be so much better if he would just embrace me."

"Do you really believe that?" asks Aleksei. He tries to look into the red-handed Chizuru's eyes, but the pieces have started to gather, obstructing his view.

The pieces chatter idly, and Chizuru joins them, measuring allegiances before the game begins. When Aleksei thinks he will not receive an answer, the red-handed speaks in a quiet voice, "Perhaps not." He admits, "But it's in my nature to wonder if the alternative could be better."

"I see," mutters Aleksei under his veils. "I suppose I will take a day off today."

"Goodbye, then."

It is still Chizuru, after all. And if this is Chizuru, then the nickname he uses...

"Yes, he wished to call you that." The red-handed answers before the question could be voiced, "And I will call you that in this dream world, in place of my earnestly awkward self."

The veils covering him begin to come off again. Before anyone sees, he turns around with a parting wish, "I hope your Alyosha will come back soon."

#aleksei guskov #chizuru nishiooji

[saturatedworld]

After a Dream of Death

As soon as the door of the townhouse was closed, the first thing that the visitor did was drop his suitcase and begin touching the host allover. “Aleksei,” calls Chizuru, the host, bemused by the sudden development. “This can count as harassment.”

“No new wound, new scar, or new broken bone.” Aleksei mumbles to himself. He holds the host’s chin and gives just enough pressure to signal him to open his mouth – the tongue was marked with ink in a strange shape. Aleksei stares inside and concludes, “At least it doesn’t grow larger.”

“It’s a tattoo, why would it?”

At once, Aleksei grabs the man’s shoulders and looks at him in the eye. “You did it, didn’t you? I heard from my intel. What you came here for.”

Chizuru at first only returns his gaze, unmoving, before answering, “I did it.” His expression softens into somberness. “I did it. I avenged Nagato.”

He did it. Those words, that confirmation, slowly sink in. “Do you…” Aleksei’s hands run down Chizuru’s arms. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, squeezing Chizuru’s hands slightly. Chizuru gives a small, quiet nod. “Let’s sit down first.” Aleksei says while guiding the other man, “Don’t worry about courtesy and such for now.”

After sitting down on the couch, Chizuru only stares down blankly. Aleksei can’t help worrying, was it a bad idea to ask about that matter? The silence was momentarily broken when a glaring housemaid showed up to bring them tea – she must have noticed Aleksei’s arrival. The master has been acting like this as of late, so the housemaid whispered to Aleksei’s ear. Worrying.

“That Cups…” Chizuru breathes. Aleksei’s ears perk up and he put down his cup of tea at once, waiting. Steam lightly floats up from Chizuru’s untouched cup. It took another silence before he continues, “It tried to bargain for its life, offered to bring Nagato back to life in exchange for mercy. I wonder if I should have accepted it. But I couldn’t. I hate it. And I couldn’t bear the thought of Nagato hating me.”

“Hate you?” A slight frown forms on Aleksei’s face. “Why would he?”

“The ‘Chi-chan’ that Nagato loved was a kind person. He did all he could to prevent anger and hatred from consuming him. He tried to save as many people as possible, no matter how much they have sinned. He never gave up, never feared, no matter how difficult…” Chizuru trails off, then mumbles, “I’m no longer any of those.”

“That is not—”

“You must have heard, Aleksei,” injects Chizuru, “If nothing else, about how I killed the spies in this city in a misguided sense of justice.” He looks down to his hands. “It was unforgivable. And I have killed even more in my revenge. At the end, I’m no better than Cups. I disposed pawns – people with their own lives and dreams – I disposed of them as I saw fit. I should be de—”

“Don’t say that!” In that single moment, Aleksei’s voice filled the room. His fists are now clenched tight. “Please.” He adds.

“Yes,” mutters Chizuru. “I don’t understand why you value my life so much. It’s not just you, too. Vlad, Robin, Vera…” He trails off again, bites his lip. “I don’t understand what is so special about myself. The resources used to keep me alive can be used to help someone else more worthwhile.”

“I think you are worthwhile, Chizuru-han.” Aleksei says, never taking his eyes off Chizuru’s. “Perhaps you are no longer exactly the same person as you were, but isn’t the fact you’re hurting and regretting now means you still have kindness in yourself? You can understand the pain of those wronged, those left behind; you can hope for and work toward something better. Would Cups have felt the same, had you let it live?”

Another silence. Chizuru fidgets with his fingers. Aleksei takes another sip of his tea as he waits.

“It would not,” mutters Chizuru at last. “It admitted no remorse. It was even prideful enough to give no apology. I hate it. It was everything I hate.”

“Do you…” Aleksei trails off for a short moment, looking for the right word to say. “...hate yourself?” Blunt, perhaps. But it suffices.

For the first time in that conversation, Chizuru is looking at Aleksei again, eye wide. Quietly, Aleksei’s hand reaches for Chizuru’s head, caressing him. Ah, there is a glimmer in Chizuru’s eye at last. That glimmer trickles down, like a falling star.

He pulls the man into an embrace, closely, tightly. “Listen to me, Chizuru-han. Ideally, I wish for you to love yourself. I wish for you to see for yourself what charms you have. I believe in you, Chizuru-han. But even if you can’t do that, even if this terrible world prevents you to, I will still love you. I will make up for that love you lack, so at the very least, please live on for my sake.”

“...Aleksei,” he whispers, “I…”

Realising what he had said, Aleksei with no warning separated himself from Chizuru. “O-Of course I mean I love you platonically!” He blabbers on, “And your friends must think similarly too! Yes! Live for us!” Ah, he has done it. He has made a mess of himself. It would be even harder cover it now. When he recovers a part of his courage to steal a look at Chizuru again, he sees Chizuru’s eye and cheeks red. His eye is no doubt red from crying, and his cheeks red from… He has never seen this face before. It’s almost adorable if not for this awkwardness.

A chuckle. Then a giggle. And, at last, a laugh. Chizuru is laughing. Aleksei, both embarrassed and glad, says nothing. “Haha. Hahaha. You made me remember, there was another reason why I couldn’t accept Cups’ bargain, though I realised it only after the fact.”

“W-What is it?” asks Aleksei, having calmed down enough to speak coherently again.

Chizuru wipes his wet eye with the sleeve of his haori. “It would have put you in a tough spot, after I invited you to live together with me.”

Nevermind, Aleksei can feel it; he will turn into a mush again now.

“Well,” says Aleksei, trying his best to keep himself together. “Neither of us made promises…”

“But I meant it.” Chizuru insists, “If I have to keep enduring everything, I want you by my side.”

Aleksei looks at Chizuru, looks away and sighs. He looks again and looks down. He scratches his head and asks with a quiet voice, “What… do you mean by that?”

“What?”

“Do you…” He can’t ask this while looking at him, no. “Do you love me too? Maybe a little beyond platonically…” Just what is he doing? He shouldn’t be doing any of this, and yet…

Chizuru doesn’t give an immediate answer, but he holds Aleksei’s hands. He holds them, and says, “Thank you, Aleksei. I don’t know if I will be able to live up to your expectations. Frankly, I still don’t know what I want to do now. Perhaps one day I will crack and fall again, but for now, thank you. Thank you for never giving up on me.”

“That’s not…” Aleksei trails off and sighs again. This time, a smile follows after. “Nevermind. You are welcome too.”

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov

[saturatedworld]

A Difficult Request

“Aleksei, listen. I think I will be able to wrap up my business here soon. After that, I can return to the surface with you, back to my homeland.”

The man called Aleksei simply stares down the bedridden man and sighs.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” Aleksei answers, “You’re all smile, but it’s clear as day.”

“Ah,” Chizuru chuckles. “How did you figure that out?”

“Chi-zu-ru-han, anyone who has been in the Neath for too long will die to sunlight. Moreover you have died and returned to life as well. It’s obvious.” Aleksei says, a finger tapping on the bedside cabinet. A packet of medicines and a piece of cloth sit on it. “Furthermore, I heard from your cousin that you have promised your life to him.”

A minute of silence passed before Chizuru’s face lightens up with realization. “Oh, yes! I did make such bargain with Leonard! How could I have forgotten? Goodness, I have so many things in my mind…”

“...He would be upset if he heard that.”

“For sure.”

Hearing Chizuru’s light tone, Aleksei sighs again. “It’s just as Konoe used to say. Give you a reason, and if there is no one to stop you, you would even jump into a pit of snakes.” He leans back, arms folded. “No, this is beyond that.”

Chizuru says nothing to it, but looks away from his friend, stares off at the wall. His smile fades. “But it’s true that I will wrap up my business soon. My purpose will be fulfilled by it, and I will have no more reason to linger here.”

“How about your child?”

“Vera has taken a great liking to Camellia. She is a dependable woman, I can trust them to her.”

“The revolutionaries you’re acquainted with?”

“They said their disapproval to my face. Cowards. I will no longer be welcome, but I’ve decided to pursue this path until the end.”

“The few friends you have made?”

“I’m sure they will understand.”

“Well, I don’t understand.”

Chizuru looks back at the man by his side. His expression is impassive, but those words spoke otherwise. His smile returns. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

The big man now scratches his head in frustration. He has no idea what to do with the man in front of him. Perhaps if that person was here, he would be able to…

“Enough about myself, Aleksei.” Chizuru says, looking at his visitor intently. “How about you? Shouldn’t you return to Vienna soon? Just as you said, you will be stuck if you linger here for too long.”

“It will be fine, I can stay for one more day before my last ship for the Canal.”

“Oh.” Chizuru looks away again. “Don’t push yourself. I will be fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You should listen to your own advice for once.”

Chizuru stares off again. His expression is calm. His eye still lightless. For all the time Aleksei has known him, there was only person he would listen to without question. Chizuru must know, that person will not return from death even if he avenged him. So why—

“Aleksei, thank you for taking care of me for all these years.”

“Huh? It’s nothing, really... “ He replies. Chizuru said that, but he doesn’t even look at Aleksei.

“I wonder,” Chizuru continues, still looking away, “Would you still care for me if I wasn’t an important person?”

“What do you mean?”

“Say, if I wasn’t a viscount. If I wasn’t a diplomat. If I didn’t have any important connection. Would you still…?”

What is he trying to say? “Of course I would. You’re an important friend.”

“But you are a spy. Should you be wasting your time on a pawn without use?”

“No, I suppose not.” Aleksei scratches his head again. “But you are—”

You are worth more than any pawn for me.

Aleksei can’t say that. He knew he shouldn’t even have thought of it. Perhaps he should arrange to receive St Joshua’s blessing that spies down here make use of. Still—

Chizuru is looking at him again now, with a smile so tender. “I just wanted to confirm.”

“Confirm… what?”

“Vera told me, you know.” He takes off his sight from the visitor. “You barely left my bedside when I passed out. You were also the one who called a doctor for me. Even now, you still wouldn’t budge.” He chuckles, then says with a quiet voice, “I just thought, what you have done for me is more than what any old friend would do.”

Ah. Did he catch on? He can feel it. Aleksei can feel something stirring inside of him. Before he knew it, his hand has grabbed Chizuru’s. It’s rough. Chizuru’s hand is rough with scars. This isn’t the hand someone of his upbringing should’ve had.

“Aleksei?”

“Please don’t die.” He whispers, looking down at the floor. It will be fine, he should be allowed to say this much.

For a moment, Chizuru merely looks at his visitor, unable to get a clear look at him. “That is a difficult request. Leonard will not accept that.”

“I will negotiate with him.” Aleksei says. “Just.. Please don’t die. Return safely. Don’t hurt yourself anymore, Chizuru-han.” Would the man listen if those words are spoken in his mother tongue? Just like how that person used to speak to him?

A gentle touch caresses Aleksei’s head. When he looks up, Chizuru is still looking at him with that tender look. A sad eye, and a resigned smile on his soft lips. Aleksei knew he shouldn’t be looking at this. This won’t be forgiven. But he can’t take his eyes off the man before him.

“Nagato used to soothe me like that when I was troubled.” Chizuru replies in the same tongue, as if returning the favour.

This is too much for Aleksei. His grip on Chizuru’s hand tightens. His heart is racing. His face must be flushing red.

“I can’t make any promises, but if… if I return alive, if Leonard give up on my life, would you like to live with me here?” Chizuru asks, and a chuckle follows. “It’s just as you said, I will keep stumbling into trouble after trouble when there is no one to keep me grounded.”

“I can’t make promises either.” Aleksei utters the most detached response he can produce.

“I understand.” Chizuru squeezes Aleksei’s hand. “Please consider it carefully.”

After that, Chizuru drifts off to sleep. Now all by himself again, Aleksei sighs once more. Really, what kind of spy grows attached to his target? Sentimentality has no room in this line of work. Perhaps he has kept watch on this man for too long. Perhaps it would be better to forget about all of this, to start fresh with St Joshua’s blessing—

A rough coughing snaps him out from his musing. It’s Chizuru, still sleeping, but blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth. Aleksei wipes it off with the cloth on the cabinet. Holding him like this, Aleksei can’t help thinking how many scars and wounds Chizuru have accumulated. If he forgot about their current relationship, that would hurt Chizuru again, wouldn’t it?

He can only hope he will receive forgiveness for this.

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov

[saturatedworld]

Price

(This was written as an entry for Memories of Fallen London Competition, Worst Idea of the Decade category.) 

The Enthusiastic Visitor doesn’t like the Neath as much as it seems. Yes, it’s full of wonders, from the Blemmigans to the Rubbery Men. Yes, the place never fails to surprise him on each visit, even if the food never meets his standards. So, what’s wrong?

“He” has taken out his own eye. It was no ruse; there is only void behind those white bandages. In the remaining eye, an emptiness.

The Visitor can’t fulfill the mission entrusted to him. “He” will die if taken back to the surface by force. For now, let’s report this and wait.

In their next meeting, “he” has a bandage on his cheek and shows signs of pain on one shoulder. His sins have caught up to him, so “he” claims.

An agreement was reached: “he” may stay in London, but the Visitor will check on him every month or so. The Visitor can’t help reminiscing the past. Sharing words and gestures, like they used to. “He” is a target, but also a friend.

Another meeting, “he” keeps coughing up blood. Apparently there is an unhealing wound on his chest.

The Visitor listens intently. The spider that is now a child. The Liberation of Night. “He” sounds happy, but the emptiness in his eye remains. Is this fine?

Later, “he” shows up with bandaged hands – burn wounds from clumsy handling of lead plaques. The Visitor can’t ignore those wounds anymore. Still, “he” only smiles.

Recently, “he” disappeared for some time. When “he” returns, his tongue has been marked, his memories fragmented.

Coming to the Neath has done nothing good for you, Chizuru-han. Is revenge that important for you? Even if you would burn into ashes at the end?

How the Visitor wished he could save him, but quiet is all he can offer.

#chizuru nishiooji #aleksei guskov