“T.E.N.A.N.T.”

Author’s Notes: Thank you goes to Panera for time and a place to just write and to Twisted Serious for that link of Writer’s Block activities. X3

Lindström straightened his uniform before stepping inside the interrogation room. As the foot soldier stepped aside, he crossed to stand directly in front of the pale man sitting in the wooden chair. He waved the soldier out of the room, and once the doors were tightly shut, he bent at the waist to level his head with the other’s.

He was staring directly into the eyes of a man who died about twenty years ago.

“Welcome back,” he said with just the barest traces of a sneer. He waited for a moment and smirked when the other’s eyes showed no recognition, and gave no indication of reply. Straightening, he crossed behind the seated man. “Do you know where you are?” No answer. He tried a simpler question. “Do you know who you are?”

The other nodded, but was silent.

“Are you going to speak to me?”

He shook his head vigorously.

Stepping in front of him again he asked, “Why not?”

He glanced at the door.

The Lieutenant chuckled, turning away and stepping to the window. “They told you not to, hm? They tell you why?”

“You’re a bad man.”

So he could speak. “Is that what they told you?”

“You hurt people.”

Lindström turned to regard the seated man. “I only hurt bad people,” he said, crossing back to lean against the wall in front of the other. “And if I’m bad, but I hurt bad people, then I’m not really doing bad things, am I?”

The other was silent for a moment, his eyes falling to his hands which were twisting about each other in his lap. Then, softly, “Mana wasn’t bad.”

“Oh yes he was. He never really told you anything, did he?”

He looked away from his hands.

“He didn’t tell you about the war, or the bad people…”

“They did,” he replied, gesturing to the door, “They told me. They told me you’re bad.”

“Then so are you,” he fired back. Then he added, saluting, “Camui…Sir.”

He walked away from the seated man but before he could reach the door, he heard the wooden chair topple to the floor. Turning he found himself looking into the sharp eyes of Gackt Camui. “Lindström,” he began. “Are my quarters ready?”

“Ready and waiting, Sir.” He smiled.

*****

Corporal Roche watched Camui stride up and down the line of prisoners with a mix of wariness and awe. Just yesterday the man had been in the ranks of the rebels – in fact, he’d even saved the redhead from a severe lashing at the hands of Lindström – and now it appeared he was to be their executioner. Roche’s dark eyes turned from the new commander to his own superior to find him smiling rather smugly down at the captive men.

“There’s one missing.”

Roche turned to Camui. “Sir?”

The man gestured with his gun from one end of the line to the other. “There’s one missing.” He turned to Lindström. “Where is he?”

The Corporal noted that his superior seemed to pale ever so slightly. “He’s in my quarters. I’m holding him for--”

“I know what you’re holding him for,” Camui snapped, turning on the other man. “Why isn’t he here?”

“I…I thought that perhaps we were about to rid us of these filthy rebels. I wanted to--”

“Keep him for a bit longer?” Waving over two guards from the door he ordered, “Go to Lieutenant Lindström’s quarters and retrieve the man confined there. The door code is 1540.”

The men saluted and left the room. Lindström however was agape and looked rather confused. “That’s not the door code.”

“It is now.”

Before the Lieutenant could argue too much, however, the men had returned. Roche’s mouth dropped open.

The attractive man that Lindström had detained wore nothing but a blue silk robe. He collapsed where the men dropped him, and to Roche it seemed that it was a struggle just for him to lift his head. He shook from head to toe and was covered in bruises and other…suspicious marks.

Stepping in front of the shuddering prisoner, Camui raised his gun and pressed the barrel to the man’s forehead. “You’re poorly dressed for an execution.” The prisoner’s eyes slipped shut.

And then, something Roche hadn’t expected happened.

Camui whirled about, training his gun on Lindström, and fired. The Lieutenant collapsed, sputtering. Crossing to the fallen man, he fired twice more and his body went still. Roche thought he heard him whisper, “Turn about’s fair play,” before straightening and withdrawing the cartridge, inspecting the remaining bullets. “Corporal Roche.”

The man jumped slightly and saluted, still recovering from the shock of watching his superior shot down in front of him. “Yes, Sir?”

“It appears Lieutenant Lindström has shot himself.” Camui turned to regard him with steely eyes. “Have these fine gentlemen take him to the morgue, as there's no real use for his body here. You will be assuming his place as my second-in-command. Is that clear?”

Struggling with his wide-eyed alarm, he replied, still saluting, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Have these soldiers escorted back to their holding chamber. Have these two,” he paused to point his gun at the attractive prisoner and the pale one with dark hair in turn, “taken to my quarters. This one has injuries that I will attend to personally and the other…I have some questions to ask.”

Roche thought he heard something distant and sad in his superior’s voice. “Yes, Sir,” he replied, waving over more guards. When he looked up, Camui was gone.

*****

Cha sat huddled in the niche between the wall and Gackt’s armoire, his face buried in his hands and his legs drawn up to his chest. Masa knelt opposite him and had been for the greater part of ten minutes trying to coax the shaken Lieutenant out of his cubby hole, with little – if any – success.

“Leave him be.” Masa looked up at the voice. Gackt sat on the bed, tie undone and hanging limply about his neck, and sipped at a glass of wine. The pale man had to shake his head to rid his mind of the feeling of déjà vu. Swallowing back some of the red liquor, the man on the bed added, “He needs to control his breathing. For him to do that, you can’t be touching him. He’ll be alright in a few moments. Come,” he waved Masa over towards him, “have some wine with me. It’s no good to drink alone.”

Looking back and forth between his distraught superior and Gackt, Masa sighed softly before standing and crossing to the bed to take a seat beside the other man. He was careful to leave a space between them as Gackt handed him another glass.

They drank in silence for a time, the quiet, choked sobs of the man behind the dresser the only noise in the room. Then, Gackt turned to the man beside him and asked quietly, “How is it…that you are him and yet…you are not?”

Masa coughed, sputtering a bit when the wine went down the wrong tube in reaction to the question. “What?” he asked, looking to the man at his side.

Reaching out, Gackt cupped the younger man’s cheek in his hand. His thumb gently caressed the bone below his eye. “Is it you--”

He was cut off however when there was a shuffling somewhere behind the dresser. Dropping his hand from the other’s face, he turned to find Cha struggling to stand, bracing himself against the piece of wood furniture. Feeling Masa move to stand, he beat him to it and was at Cha’s side, a strong hand on his arm. The 4^th’s Lieutenant was still shaking as he raised his head to look into Gackt’s eyes. “Why…why did you…?”

“Kill him?”

He nodded, now balancing himself against Gackt rather than the dresser.

“Because he killed me first.”

“Why didn’t you let me do it?”

Gackt noted that Cha sounded rather perturbed about that. “Do you honestly think you could hold the gun, given the state you were in?”

“Fifteen times.”

“What?”

“I…I stabbed him. Fifteen times. How did he…how…”

“I don’t know. But he won’t come back this time. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He pulled Cha against his chest and was mildly surprised that the man didn’t resist. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” He felt the shorter man nod against his chest. They stood like that for a time, quiet while he ran his hands against the other’s back and shoulders. He could feel Masa’s eyes on him, watching him.

He sighed and Cha pulled away. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit, eh?” The battered man smiled softly and nodded. “There are some clean linens in the bathroom and you’re more than welcome to take a shower – or a bath, if you prefer – should you want to wash up. There are bandages…ointments…medication on the counter.” As he spoke he walked Cha to the bathroom, his hand pressed to the small of his back as a show of concern more than anything else. Once at the threshold, the other pulled away with a quiet word of thanks before closing the door.

After a moment, Gackt turned back to the man still standing by the bed. He thought for a moment, but when his mind came up blank, he asked, “Where were we?”

“Um…” the youth began, sitting nervously back down on the bed. Pointing to the spot beside him, he muttered, “You were here,” he raised his glass of wine, “we were drinking, and you were going to ask me how I could look so much like my father.”

Your father? Gackt worried the inside of his cheek. “Ah yes…”

“Turns out I’m not really his son, I’m a lab rat.”

“He never thought of you as such, you must know that.”

Masa bit his lip and swirled the wine in the glass. “I know.”

“Do you…remember your old name?” Gackt’s voice was soft, concerned.

“I dream that my name’s Gabriel, but in all honesty, I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

“I remember…” Gackt trailed off, looking away from the man beside him to delve into his own thoughts. ‘Gabriel’ rang a bell. A very close one. He returned his eyes to Masa’s. All he could see in his minds eye was a baby with black hair and… “You.”

“Me?” After a moment, Masa sighed and shook his head, looking down into the red wine in the glass cradled between his hands. “I’m not my father.”

“No…you’re not. You’re a complete physical replica, identical down to the last skin cell. But you’re not him.” He stood and moved to the window.

“But neither are you then.”

He didn’t say anything.

“My father used himself for the MASA project. I’m a result of that. I know that now. But you…you aren’t Camui, like I’m not Matsumoto.”

He flinched at the name. Tenshi… There was a touch at his arm and he turned. He found himself trapped by all-too-familiar eyes. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and touching the soft plains of Masa’s face. “Let me stay with you,” the youth whispered.

“No.”

“Please. You need me. And a part of me…memories of me…or memories of him…need to be with you too.”

Gackt was silent for a time while his fingertips trespassed over the lines and curves of face before him. The other’s skin was soft and pale like angels’ wings. Losing himself in the youth’s dark eyes, he leaned forward and their lips met in the chastest of kisses.

*****

“What?” Roche couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

“You heard correctly, Lieutenant. Don’t bother trying to explain it away.” The man steepled his long fingers before him as he leaned his elbows on the polished wood of his desk. “The prisoners are to be released. No harm shall come to them. Let them on their way and do not follow them.” When Roche didn’t respond, Camui waved his hand in dismissal and turned away from him.

Once safely outside the room, he walked with brisk steps towards his office where his most loyal men waited just where he had told them too. “What Lieutenant Lindström had suspected is true – Camui’s grown soft during his time with the rebels. We proceed with Beta Plan.”

*****

Unarmed and defenseless in the woods, their arms held behind their back by the young Lieutenant’s unit, the remainder of the 4^th weighed their options. Ren weighed his and promptly spat on the man before them. It won him a deft kick in the stomach, dropping him unwillingly to his knees. He glared up at him and glanced quickly over at his commander.

Cha tugged against the man behind him who held his arms tight. “Gackt said we would be freed.”

Roche strode towards him and replied, “Camui has long since been…out of commission, so to say.”

“You fucker…”

The Lieutenant ignored the comment from the redhead and continued explaining himself to the 4^th’s leader as if uninterrupted. “He’s not up-to-date with many of the Sovereign’s policies. One of which being to ‘release’ prisoners is just another way of saying, ‘kill them.’”

“You’re lying.”

Steely eyes turned towards the tall Automaton who remained stiff as a rail. Striding up to him, he struck the Android’s knees with the butt of his rifle, easily dropping him. While one of his men held the robot down, he withdrew a blade from his boot.

“No!”

He turned and watched the attractive soldier pull harder at the man behind him. “Be thankful he’s the first,” he said and plunged the knife into the base of the Android’s skull and twisted. Blood and lubricants spattered his hand and the robot began to jerk and spasm underneath him. Fueled by the shrieking of the rebel’s leader and the twisting of body below, he pressed a knee into the robot’s upper back while he tore and hacked a hole at the base of his cybernetic skull. Reaching inside, he ripped a fistful of wires and metal.

That was the last thing he saw.

Ren fired two more shots into the body before spinning around and nailing the soldier who held Toshi still. Once both sides found arms, restarting their postponed battle was easy.

Cha meanwhile, released by his felled guard, crawled underneath the flying bullets to the Android’s motionless body. Tears slid down his face as he sobbed unabashedly while he pulled the limp form into his arms. He ran his shaking fingers through You’s dark hair and cradled the back of his head. How can I help? How can I help? What hurts? What hurts? Let me kiss it better. Let me kiss it better. Brushing the leaves and dirt that clung to the pale face, he traced the other’s long features. His beautiful face. His beautiful eyes. They had gone dim.

“Sir!”

Ren was calling him. Choking back his tears, Cha held onto You’s limp body tighter. The Automaton had gone cold. “…no…” Beautiful. Beautiful. Come back to me. Hold me again. Kiss me again. Love me again.

“Sir!”

“…don’t leave me…”

“Cha!” He looked up at his name. The redhead looked frantic. “We have to go!”

The tears blurred the lines of the world together. Reality was melting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t battle with the pain anymore. It was so much…too much. Fighting a whimper, he drew You closer to him and buried his face in the Android’s unmoving chest. Somewhere, he registered Ren ordering the rest of 4^th to flee across the border and head back to the base. It didn’t matter anymore.

There was a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, his arms instinctively tightening around You’s torso. His dark eyes met Ren’s. “We can’t stay, Cha,” he whispered. Cha nodded dumbly and the younger man stood and stepped back a few paces.

Pressing his lips to You’s forehead, he whispered, “I love you.” Laying the limp body on the forest floor, he stood as well. Turning, he and Ren bolted into the trees, away from the scene of the slaughter.

*****

“Sir, it appears the rebels have escaped.”

“So they’ve been released?”

“Well, they--”

“The answer you’re looking for, Private, is ‘yes.’”

“Yes, Sir,” the young man stuttered, saluting.

“Good.”

“But Sir, Corp – er, Lieutenant Roche and his squad…they’re dead, Sir.”

Gackt was silent for a moment. He risked a sidelong glace at Masa – who stood in TS uniform – and their eyes met. He thought he saw the smallest of smiles grace the younger man’s lips. “Let it be known, to all of you,” Camui stated, turning around to regard the room, “insubordination at any level will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”