Rivulet turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps, expecting a mundane passerby.
His eyes lit up just a fraction, the tension under his jaw waning the moment he saw the boy.
Whether it was a ghost, he was certain it wasn’t here to haunt him.
“Ki…
satsu?” His voice came out thin, barely reaching the boy.
“Delvey!
Are you also the new candidate for the Reco?” Kisatsu’s voice was brighter than he realized as he trotted over.
“Uh—yeah.
Hang on, you’re a candidate as well?
Since when?” Rivulet leaned forward slightly, a subtle tilt to his head.
“Uhm, well…
I’ve only been accepted just recently.
I wasn’t even an official member yet when I was first put into the Team,” Kisatsu replied, a ghost of a smile brushing his lips.
This is good.
At least I know someone is authentically stronger than me in this team.
Though, that just means I must catch up as soon as possible.
He glanced toward the gateway, then back to Rivulet.
“Do you know where the meeting place is?”
“No, hadn’t really a clue.” Rivulet followed his gaze, shaking his head.
“I wasn’t told anything specific.” He turned back to Kisatsu with a weak smile.
“Let’s head in and find it together, shall we?” His voice sounded remarkably stiff as if he’d forced himself to read a script.
They strode into the concourse, welcomed by the cool breeze where the sun refused to shine.
Tension hung in the air, thick with the memory of the training chamber.
It replayed in their heads as if a telepathic connection had threaded between them, but their mouths stayed shut.
Rivulet had chosen to carry the blame for the manikin and Kisatsu’s involvement, but Kisatsu had never thought of blaming him.
Back then, Ruvenne had told Kisatsu about Rivulet’s larceny.
Although Kisatsu felt a small, real sense of betrayal, he didn’t find any resentment in it.
However, the authorities still hadn’t told him about Rivulet’s real name, or the true nature of his punishment.
“I’m glad…
you’re still here.” Kisatsu’s voice rippled through the silence, raw, brittle.
Rivulet had left him in that chamber, and the memory still lingered.
But Kisatsu couldn’t imagine himself doing the same, had their places been sought.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have…
done anything.” The words barely broke out from Kisatsu’s lips.
“I’m a lot weaker than you and your friends, yet I’m the only one who has survived.” His head dipped slightly.
“I know I don’t deserve it.”
Rivulet’s steps faltered, losing their stiffness, yet he didn’t look back “No, Kisatsu, you…
you didn’t deserve any of that.
We’re the ones who dragged you in.” His head tilted just enough to reveal a sliver of his profile.
“I should’ve been the one to go, with my friends…
as a proper punishment for waking the killing machine.
You should’ve come out of it unscathed.”
“But it was my Rage—I was the one who fueled it.” Kisatsu looked at his hands as if judging a power that had moved through them unwanted.
“I…
I don’t know.
They said my Rage was special, and it was the reason why the manikin kept running even when it should’ve stopped already.”
“But we’re the ones who pressed the buttons, Kisatsu,” Rivulet muttered, voice low, level.
“We were the ones who wanted it in the first place.”
Kisatsu’s gaze sprang back to him, the skin around his eyes tightening.
“Realistically, I’m still liable because I fueled it.” He looked down again, hands hanging limp at his sides.
“So, even if you believe I’m not at fault, don’t say I’m innocent.
Not in that regard.”
A moment of silence.
Rivulet finally turned to meet his gaze, violet eyes misty with tears he refused to shed before flicking ahead once more.
“They’ve given me this ‘punishment’ I’m supposed to start today.
A dry, quiet snort escaped him, his eyes tracing the grooves in the asphalt.
“To be fair, I can hardly call this a punishment at all.
Most people would think it’s a bit of a result for a new student.
You’d think so too, wouldn’t you, Kisatsu?”
He cast a sidelong glance without turning fully.
“But I suppose…
I’ll just take it as my penance.
My friends are gone.
I’m on my own now.
I can choose to throw my life away whenever I fancy—I was already throwing it away, anyway.”
A pause.
His eyes hooded, brushed by a wistful thought.
A certain figure appeared in his mind, though vague.
“I’ll just try to help as many people as I can.” He continued walking, though his pace no longer carried the same tightness as before.
Kisatsu watched him silently, feeling a sense of distance as he took in the words, then followed.
Before long, they spotted a man napping by the crates out in the open.
Kisatsu glanced at Rivulet, then back to the man.
“A knight, maybe?”
Rivulet stepped forward and peered at the man’s uniform, but the thick military jacket suggested he might have only been a guard.
“Could be.
Or just a guard, for all we know.
We might’ve asked him about the overseer if he weren’t dead to the world.” Rivulet turned to Kisatsu.
“Tell you what, why don’t we split up?
I’ll have a look around the concourse.”
“There’s a riverbank around here,” Kisatsu said, gaze wandering across the airfield.
“I’ll go there.”
They parted.
The murmurs of flowing water infused the verge near the facade.
Kisatsu strolled along the bank, gazing at the distant silhouette of the city buildings on the other side, outlined against a backdrop of grey.
Several steps ahead, a boy his age was perched on an outcrop, staring at the sky with an even profound, pinned focus, elbow resting loosely on a bent knee.
The sky was as grey as it had always been, yet the boy gazed at it as if something were staring right back.
Kisatsu trod past him, but his eyes lingered longer than he’d realized.
“You after something?” the boy asked without turning, voice clipped.
Kisatsu lost his pace, then turned to face him.
“…No,” he answered, but the subtle quaver in his voice betrayed his startle.
The boy finally looked at him, tangerine eyes meeting Kisatsu’s violet ones, concealed behind stray strands of lime green hair.
Kisatsu found himself admiring those eyes as they almost seemed to be glowing.
“You’re…
a knight, right?
Sorry that I bother you.” He tried to look away, wanting to end the conversation immediately.
But before he could leave, he compelled himself to ask, looking back.
“Excuse me, but are you a member of the Reco Team?”
The boy’s eyes cloaked as he rose, facing Kisatsu fully.
“Ah.
I take it you’re one of the new lot who’s supposed to be turning up?” A faint, smug grin crept onto his lips.
“Y-Yeah.
Do you know where the overseer is?”
The boy nodded without another word, then led Kisatsu back toward the concourse.
***
“I wanted to become a knight to help people, sir.” Rivulet’s words threaded out stiff, robotic.
“As many as I can.”
The man by the crates had woken up, and Rivulet had approached to ask about the overseer.
Instead, the man had interrogated him on the spot, without so much as an introduction.
“It’s always ‘helping others’ and never ‘helping myself.’ The lot of you always give the same answer.” The man’s voice came out as a rasp, slicing the air like a saw.
“Not saying it’s rubbish, but if you all think the same way, how do you expect to stand out from the crowd?”
“But I’m just being honest,” Rivulet responded, voice carrying an indignant, exasperated tone.
Isn’t that the point of the job?”
The man’s frown deepened.
“You can help people without being a knight.
You could be a surgeon or a teacher, couldn’t you?” He raised a finger toward Rivulet’s chest.
“If your only reason for taking up the sword is to help people, you’re going to end up dead, lad.”
His voice dropped an octave.
“You won’t even look particularly clever saying it—you’re just another young pup programmed the same as the rest.”
Rivulet stared at the man’s finger as if seeing his own reflection in the nail, then looked back at the puckered face.
“What is it you want me to say, then?”
The man lowered his arm.
“Level with me.
Be honest.” His eyes thinned, voice even.
“I reckon there’s something else rattling around inside you—something that pushed you toward becoming a knight before you ever thought about ‘helping’ anyone.”
Rivulet held the man’s gaze for a pondering beat before letting his own drop to the asphalt.
“I didn’t want to be just some run-of-the-mill person.
Not when I wasn’t even given a run-of-the-mill childhood.” His voice dropped, quieter now.
“I don’t want to be a weak, helpless lad who can’t look after himself.”
But when I finally had the strength, I only ended up making a right mess of things for everyone else.
He bit his lip, then looked back up, inhaling briefly.
“That’s why if I don’t become a knight…
well, that’s a fate worse than dying as one.
I’d be empty, wouldn’t I?”
His eyes hooded, expression turning into a heavy, somber mask.
“That’s the most selfish reason I can give you.
And I suppose I’ll just have to help people along the way.”
The man’s eyes stayed pinned on Rivulet, stern, unblinking.
“What’s your name?”
“D…
Rivulet Moschastem, from the Camesarian Guild.”
The sound of footsteps arrived, drawing their gazes.
The man turned toward the boy and Kisatsu, visage remaining a puckered, unchanging map.
Rivulet and Kisatsu exchanged a knowing look as the boy with the lime-green hair marched over.
“Sir Alistare, I’ ve brought one of the new lot along.” He glanced at Rivulet before looking back at Alistare, mirroring his still countenance.
“Is he the other one?”
“Ah, Astafa.
Good lad.
I was just about to go sending this young one to look for you.” Alistare glanced between Rivulet and Kisatsu.
“So we’ve got two lads sharing the same violet eyes, have we?”
“W-Wait, so you’re the overseer?
I mean, sir,” Rivulet sputtered, giving a slight, instinctive bow.
“Beg your pardon for being so blunt earlier.”
“No, don’t sweat it.” Alistare chuckled, a shrill breath.
“I’d much rather talk to brats your sort than those lot who are all ‘yes sir, no sir’—at least you’ve got a bit of backchat in you.” He pushed himself up from the shabby chair, palms pressing against his knees.
“Right then, I’ve called you both here because I wanted a look at you—and I want a proper glimpse of what you can do, and why you lot reckon you’re worth the trouble.” He pointed a firm finger at Rivulet.
“You—I’ve heard the full story from Ruvenne.
Normally, I only take on proposals from Third Division knights and upwards.
Ruvenne’s report was more of a warning than a recommendation, so the choice to have you in was entirely my own.”
He turned to Kisatsu, shifting the finger to him.
“And you—I’d say I’m more interested in you than I’ve ever been in the likes of the other members.
Going by Harlan’s report, it sounds like you’ve got a bit of a nasty streak inside of you, eh?
Can tell just by looking at those eyes of yours.”
His eyes narrowed with an inquisitive suspicion as he leaned in, searching deeper into the boy’s violet ones.
“Reminds me of someone else I knew back in the day.”
Kisatsu swallowed, a faint popping gulp.
“W-Who is that, if I may ask?”