“T.E.N.A.N.T.”
Author’s Notes: A few of you
(myself included) wanted to know what Cha’s back-story was, so here it is. Oh, just
to clear up any and all confusion, in the last two segments, everything in
italics is in Japanese.
The
battle had been hard-fought. A valiant attempt, thought Colonel Roche
as he walked down the line of prisoners who knelt on the stone floor with their
hands clasped behind their heads.
Glancing up at his superior, he fought a sigh. But all
for nought.
Lieutenant
Lindström was a dangerous man. He had
served under the brilliant Camui since he began his tenure with the unit
stationed at the castle. He had
single-handedly discovered the leak within the base of Automaton technology to
the rebellion about twenty years ago and eliminated all those involved –
including his own superior officer at the time, who was none other than the
infamous Camui – before he continued on to become one of the Sovereign’s most
trusted leaders. Not only that, but
after taking over Camui’s role as the base’s commander, survived a slave’s
brutal attack which almost cost him his life.
It was obvious that he was a man not to incense.
Roche
stood at attention as the Lieutenant strode along the same path in front of the
prisoners his underling had just walked.
“You,” he began and waved his hand dismissively at the kneeling men,
“are the lone survivors of your unit.
And though I admire your determination…” he trailed off when he paused
in front of a rather attractive member of the unit. Roche tilted his head, confused. The soldier looked up and the Colonel watched
his throat clench. Lindström
smirked. “You won’t get away so
easily. Not this time.”
With
surprising speed, the Lieutenant grabbed the redhead who was next in line by
his hair and tossed him to the floor. He
stood over him and after a split second of silence, began to strike the prone
man with his ever-present crop.
After
about the tenth strike, Roche looked at the prisoners, unable to stomach the
sight of the torture. But the sound and
the faces of the rebels were just as bad if not worse, he realized. They wanted to help. They wanted to stop the suffering of their
companion. They wanted to scream and
curse and take their captors to their graves.
But
they didn’t have to. Around the
fifteenth strike, one of them stood, breaking away from the man who held him
and threw himself over top of the man being flogged – much to the relief of the
bleeding man and to the fury of the Lieutenant.
With
a snarl, Lindström pulled his arm back to strike down on the rebel who shielded
his fellow but something stopped him.
“No…” Roche heard him whisper as he stared down. Dropping his arm slowly, he looked up at the
Colonel, who snapped at attention. Roche
thought he looked rather pale. “Take
this one,” he pointed to the man on top of the shivering redhead, “to the
detention block in C wing. I want a word
with him.” Roche saluted and gestured to
three of the foot soldiers, who stepped forward and dragged the rebel – who
kicked and grunted with the effort of getting away from them, but didn’t utter
a word otherwise – away and down the hall.
“Take the others to the detention block in D wing. This one,” he continued, pointing to the
attractive soldier with his crop, “I want to see in my quarters tonight at
eleven.” He looked back at the kneeling
man. “We have some unfinished business
to attend to.”
*****
Cha
stood leaning against the wall in a cut out in the dank basement cell which the
TS corpsmen had tossed the remainder of his unit. When they had lost the battle he had been
enraged. Never had the fourth suffered
such a total defeat.
But
then again, they had never been boxed in at an enemy fort before either.
Sighing,
he let his head fall back against the dark bricks. It was night, and what little starlight there
was outside filtered through the impossibly small barred window near the
ceiling, washing over the beaten and exhausted bodies of his men. Ren lay on his stomach on the one ratty cot
in the room so as not to aggravate his injuries further while Masa sat, his
back pressed against the metal frame.
As
far as he could tell, they were both asleep.
He
sensed more than saw You approach him from the other side of the cell. Up until this point the Automaton had avoided
close contact with his superior, though the reason why was still unknown to
Cha. When he felt the other’s simulated
body heat next to him, he whispered, “What is it You?”
“Am
I human now?”
The
quiet question took Cha by surprise.
Turning his head to look at the other’s backlit form, he asked, “What do
you mean?”
You
seemed to grow hesitant. “The…other
night…when we…”
The
commander felt his throat go dry. “No.”
The
other paused. “But…I…”
“It
was all pretend.” The words hurt to
say. He could feel his throat
constricting as the tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Blinking, he continued, “…You said so yourself.”
He
was silent for a time and then turned, leaving him as quickly and silently as
he had approached.
“You…”
the whispered call was all he could force from between his lips, but it had its
desired effect of making the Android pause.
“…It was never meant to be…” When
there came no reply, Cha slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his
legs and cried silently.
*****
Lieutenant
Lindström towered above the bound and seated man who stared straight into the
empty air in front of his face. Pouring
a glass of wine he offered it to the captive.
When the other made no acknowledgement to the offer, he withdrew it and
brought it to his own lips, savoring the dark liquid as it slid easily down his
throat.
Finishing
off the glass, he set it on the table and looked back down at the other. “You do realize that silence will get you
nowhere.” Stepping forward, he braced
himself against the chair, hands wrapping around both the armrest and the
prisoner’s small wrists that were tied there.
Lindström leaned in and the Japanese man turned away at the last moment,
avoiding the contact of his lips at the last second. Smirking in a triumph he knew was anything
but premature, the Lieutenant breathed against the other’s flushing skin. Nipping at his earlobe, he whispered, “It’s
been some time…my sweet…my Chachamaru.”
He heard the harsh gasp and felt the muscles in the other’s arms tighten
under his large hands. Moving his hands
from the arm rests, he slid them down the length of the rebel officer’s torso
which strained as he panted, obviously frightened. “Let’s have some fun…for old time’s
sake…”
He
heard the tears on the other’s breath and he smiled.
*****
A
stack of chipped porcelain plates sat on the table as the nine-year-old stood folding
napkins and placing them meticulously underneath the bent silverware. Looking up at the woman at the stove, he
asked, “When is
“Your
sister should be back soon – she went to go pick up a few things at the market,
seeing as you don’t like the vegetables I cook,” she stated, stirring the pot
which steamed over the burner.
“Because
they’re mooshy,” Cha responded, sticking his tongue out and sneering for
emphasis, while his mother chuckled softly.
The
moments passed by in relative silence between the two as dinner was prepared
and the table was set. It came to a
screeching halt however when the older child burst through the door. Cha and his mother jumped and looked up in
alarm at Nara who stood panting, her back pressed against the front door and
bag of vegetables still clutched in her pale fist.
Turning
off the burner, the woman quickly rushed to her daughter and placed her hands
on the girl’s shoulders in what she hoped was a reassuring action. Kissing her forehead, she said, “Darling
what’s wrong? What happened?”
“They’re
coming.”
“Who’s
coming?”
The
girl didn’t have a chance to answer before the revving of engines, the firing
of guns, and the screams from the families in the houses around theirs did it
for her. Grabbing the girl’s arm, the
mother rushed back into the kitchen and knelt at the floor. Tugging up one of the floor tiles, she
revealed a hidden door. Cha shifted,
uncertain, and slipped his hand into his sisters. Looking up at her pale face, he realized she
was shaking.
Opening
the door the mother ordered, “Get in.
I’ll get you when it’s safe to come out.” The children hesitated for a split second.
That
split second was all they needed. In that split second, they were upon
them. Men in uniforms burst in through
the doors and the windows, their guns spraying bullets.
He
couldn’t scream, he realized, as tears rolled down his cheeks.
When
the smoke cleared, they were dragged kicking and screaming from the house.
That
was the last time he saw her.
*****
Over
the years he had served them, he had observed their patterns. The fat man would come on Tuesdays Thursdays
while the sun was still up so he wouldn’t be caught by his superiors when he
sampled their goods. The man with the
moustache would come in on Monday and Friday mornings half way till noon,
during the hours that the other was doing drills. Meanwhile, every night he would be with him – the one who had killed his mother,
separated him from his sister, and stolen his last shred of innocence one year
after they had killed his mother in front of him.
The
very thought of it made Cha’s stomach turn and tears well in his eyes. Years of subordination and slavery at their
grimy hands. Years of rape day after day
and night after night.
No
more.
Not
anymore.
Looking
up into the mirror, he barely recognized himself. Those eyes that stared back were haunted, but
the fear that had grown and thrived there was gone, burned from his dark eyes
by the smoldering hate in his chest.
It ends here.
Loosening
the knot around his waist that just barely held the blue silk robe around his
scrawny frame, he turned of the light and opened the door to his last night of
servitude.
The
sight that awaited him almost made him gag, as it did every night since he was
ten. He
lay on the bed, propped up by the pillows and sipping wine, his lower half
mercifully covered by the silk sheets.
He smiled a predatory smile – one Cha had grown accustomed to – and
gestured for the standing youth in the bathroom doorway into enter the room. “Take your robe off. You don’t need it here.”
Lowering
his eyes, Cha slid the robe from his body and immediately missed what little
protection it had offered. His eyes
locked on the floor in front of his feet, he walked forward and climbed onto
the bed, sitting on his haunches as he had done for years – as they had taught
him to – and awaited further instruction.
As
he had done for years.
As
they had taught him to.
He
shivered when he felt the man’s fingers caress his cheek and neck, bringing his
eyes up to look at him. Cha kept his
emotions locked down. These men weren’t
fools – this one least of all – and anything that appeared even remotely
out-of-character would foil the entire thing.
The
man ran his hand from the youth’s pale neck down his collarbone to his
shoulder, squeezing his toned arm.
“Climb on top of me. I want to
watch you ride it.”
He
blinked once and moved slowly to straddle the man’s hips, allowing the villain
to run his hands down his sides and hips before bracing them on his
thighs. Cha let his eyes slip shut as he
felt the hard length below him brush against his entrance. You’re
making it easier for me to kill you.
As
he lowered his body and impaled himself, his lips parted slightly and he
shuddered, a sound which seemed to excite the other. His head fell against his shoulders, his hair
brushing the small of his back, in all feigning of ecstasy. Leaning forward over the other man, the youth
moaned and twisted his hands under the pillows.
Opening his eyes, he stared down at the sweating, grinning man below
him.
Sneering,
Cha moved. Before the man below him
realized what had happened, a knife was buried in his chest. Bending forward, the youth stared into the
other’s wide eyes and, tightening the muscles in his body almost painfully
around the man’s length, he whispered, “Am I tight enough for you?”
The
man gritted his teeth, his face turning red with the effort to try to throw the
thin boy off of him. Locking his legs
around the other’s hips, Cha pulled the blade from the man’s chest before
plunging it once again into him, finding the places in between his ribs.
He
brought the blade down over and over again.
Fifteen times.
The
man stopped moving after the tenth.
Withdrawing
the blade from the motionless body, the youth stared down at the mutilated
battlefield, the only sound in the room were the soft pants slipping between
his trembling lips. Covered in the
other’s blood, Cha slid off of the bed and landed on the floor with a muted
thump. Drawing his legs up to his chest,
he shivered and cried silently. He sat
there for a time, before standing and padding silently over to the bathroom to
wash the stains off of himself.
He
had to be quick now.
They’d
kill him if they could get a hold of him.
But
even death was better than slavery.
*****
Armed
with only his tormentor’s gun and the knife he had used to kill him, he
sprinted down the maze of hallways.
There were shouts somewhere behind him in another corridor.
They
had discovered his battlefield.
Chancing
a glance behind him, he collided with someone.
Falling, he trained his gun on whoever blocked his progress before he
even hit the ground. He paused for a
moment when he saw who it was.
A
woman stood before him, her hair done up.
She seemed a little confused to see him in the science quarter. In a strangely deep voice, she asked, “You’re
the one they’re after?”
He
didn’t answer. They’ll catch me. Please…don’t
let them catch me…
“Go.” He blinked in surprise. “Go.
I’ll tell them you pistol-whipped me or something. Don’t stop for anything.”
Cha
nodded, jumping back up on his feet, and bolted down the hall.
*****
Clutching
his limp arm, the youth stumbled through the brambles that infested the
forest. Collapsing to his knees, he
panted. The world was spinning. Taking a moment to survey his injuries, he
whimpered in spite of himself.
Some
lucky shot had gotten him in his thigh.
Some
other fuck had all but shattered his elbow.
He
turned away and felt the tears well in his eyes. He was lost.
He was alone.
He
was dying. He could feel his body
growing cold and his vision going dark around the edges.
No!
With
a grunt, he pushed himself back up onto his feet and continued the faltering
trek through the woods.
And
then he heard the dogs. Looking behind
him, he felt terror seize him.
The
dogs could run faster than him. He knew
it.
Apparently,
so did they.
Overwhelmed
by fear, he forgot about the blood spilling from his open wounds and pumped his
legs as fast as he could.
Away. He had to get away.
*****
The
private stood on the makeshift battlements and stared out into the woods before
him. The base was still being
constructed, so for now, everyone was on alert for any sign of suspicious activity
on the T.S. side.
For
the last twenty seven days, it had been completely and utterly silent.
With
a sigh, he pulled his heat-sensitive goggles from his belt and brought them up
to his face with the thought of, What the
Hell, why not?
When
he looked in, he almost fell from his perch ten feet in the air. “We’ve got movement!”
The
man below his station looked up at the cry and brought his gun up, ready to
fire. “Where?”
“Coming
from the North.”
“Private,
can you discern particulars?”
“It’s
smaller than a man…” he whispered to himself.
“Private,
repeat!”
The
man shook his head and called to the men forming up below him. “There’re four objects. One is in the forefront, but it looks smaller
than a man. The other three are behind
it. I can’t discern absolute size, sir,
but if the gage on this thing is correct, than they look even smaller than the
thing in the front of the pack.”
“Looks
like they set the dogs on something,” muttered one of the men with a gun.
“Whatever
they are,” replied the private as he clipped the goggles back to his belt and
jumped from his platform, “They’ll be here in a matter of seconds.”
Guns
trained on the brush before them, the men waited. The baying of dogs registered on their ears a
few seconds before a waif-like boy burst from the underbrush and fell to the
ground before them. Looking up at the
shocked soldiers in front of him, he whispered, “Help me…” one of his bloodied hands reaching out to them while he
cradled the other to his chest.
The
private stepped quickly forward, but before he could reach the prone figure on
the ground, the dogs leapt into the clearing as well. The screams of the boy on the ground echoed
around them and they shocked the men into action. In a matter of moments, the dogs were dead,
but not before doing damage to their prey.
The
rest of them ran forward, calling for the boy to respond. The private knelt beside him and heard his
commander shout for a medic and a stretcher.
Reaching down, he put gentle pressure on the boy’s hands, seeing as he
couldn’t distinguish how severe his injuries were and his hands seemed pretty
much intact. Looking down at the bruised
and bloodied face revealed to him as the arms came slowly down he was startled
by the vacant stare that met him. “Don’t
you dare die on us, now. You’re safe,”
he whispered. “No one’s going to hurt
you.” The boy coughed and flecks of
blood came fell from between his lips.
His
eyes still locked on the boy’s, the private stepped aside for the medics who lifted
the boy onto the stretcher and carried him out of the clearing.
*****
The
private strode hesitantly through the hallway that had become the uncompleted
base’s medical wing. At the moment,
there was only one occupant, so it was relatively easy to find him. Knocking gently on the door, he heard a soft,
“Come in,” before he opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit room.
“How
are you?” he asked.
The
boy on the bed was propped up against the pillows and had a book open on his
lap. He blinked and a dawning of
recognition sparked in his eyes. “You’re the one who saved me,” he
whispered.
Once
his eyes had finally adjusted to the relative darkness, the private was mildly
surprised to see how beautiful the boy really was, even battered and bruised. His arm was in a cast and he looked like a
rag doll, as patched up as he was. And
that was just the half he could see. “I
only told them you were coming.”
The
admiration that seemed to have been growing in his eyes faltered only a
bit. “What’s your name?”
“You.”
“But I asked you first. You can’t ask me what my name is before you
answer.”
“No, no…My name. My name is You.”
He
smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you, You. My
name is Cha. Can we be friends?”
A little
taken aback by the direct question, the private smiled and sat down in the
chair next to the bed. “Yes, let’s be friends.”
End
Notes: the only time you saw Robot!You in this chapter is the scene in the
prison cell