Chapter Text
For a genius, Veritas could admit that the revelation came as a surprise to him.
And the moment that realization struck was the very same moment that their lips met.
So. He felt romantically – sexually? He would have to deliberate more on that – attracted to Aventurine. Or, Kakavasha, as he had started going by after their talk.
Now, their situation was… complex, not because of their newfound feelings for each other, but because Veritas was still working with the IPC, which believed that Kakavasha was dead. And it would be better if that belief stuck, if the IPC didn’t learn that one of their Stonehearts was still alive and kicking, especially because of what happened to the aventurine stone and… well, Kakavasha deserved better than working for the IPC, revenge plot or not.
Veritas had thought that his companion would return to his usual self, hiding behind a smile and veiled eyes and mask.
(Would he be his partner now? They needed to talk about what happened at that rooftop, otherwise Veritas could admit that he would probably overthink too much and that was always a nuisance when working. His students deserved better than that.)
But, Veritas was pleasantly surprised.
They hadn’t talked much after that conversation at the rooftop. Veritas had to reconvene with Topaz once again so they could rush out a plan that would work now that the attack had left the board of directors shaking and from what little he knew, Kakavasha had been taking care of Sarai – who was still suffering from her burns and the aftereffects of the smoke she inhaled during the fire – and Daniel – who was pretty shaken up about the whole situation – and he had been dealing with his own injuries, as well as playing host to Acheron until she decided that Kakavasha would be fine without her clearly worried hovering.
They had met a few short times ever since then, to update each other on the going-ons of their respective sides and offering counsel when it was needed – after all, Kakavasha had been an elite of the IPC, had been scarily effective and competent, had been good at his job, so his advice was really helpful and welcomed. And every time, Kakavasha had behaved… the same. The same as his time as an amnesiac, that is, without… the actual amnesia. The same had happened during that conversation , that was true, and Kakavasha had said that he trusted him but… was that enough? Was that enough for him to bare his face definitely or at least try to?
Veritas felt a bit wrong-footed about it, if he was being honest. Aventurine had been all veiled eyes and fake smiles and too-sweet and slippery words, even with Veritas. And yet, when he thought back, he could recall quite a few times when that image had… shattered.
Aventurine had been cautious and not-quite-honest with him, most of the time, but there had been a few times when he showed something real to Veritas. In quiet moments of the night, when darkness hid them from the world. When they had been alone, in the company of each other. Aventurine had only offered his truth when he knew that it would only be Veritas the one hearing it, he only offered real answers if Veritas could find his way to them through a sea of clues and misdirections. An offered hand for those who would dare take it without stabbing a knife to Aventurine’s back. For those that stayed. For those that cared.
Kakavasha, of course, noticed his conundrum.
“It confuses you, doesn’t it?” he asked three days after the fire, when Veritas was visiting the apartment again to check on his and Sarai’s condition. Veritas frowned at him and his amused smile that only grew larger when he saw Veritas’ silent question. “That I’m still behaving like this.”
Veritas hummed and looked down at the chess board. He moved his knight to one side, preparing his next movement. Kakavasha followed his action with sharp eyes.
“Maybe. It’s out-of-character for you, is all,” he admitted easily enough, if only so Kakavasha would answer him in return.
“Mm, is it? Out-of-character, I mean,” pointed out Kakavasha. He moved his queen to one side. “Aren’t I behaving just like I was a few days ago?”
“Yes, but a few days ago you had no memories,” replied Veritas, staring at the board with a hand under his chin.
“Well, I’m behaving similar to a few days ago, then,” corrected Kakavasha with a light shrug. His grin was still amused and– probably genuine. “I thought you were the smart one, Doctor.”
“I do know that this is probably your ‘true self’, so to speak.” Veritas glared at Kakavasha, feeling that familiar exasperation creeping up into his voice. If he had to guess from Kakavasha’s widening grin, he had caught it too. “What I don’t understand is… why aren’t you hiding anymore?”
“Hiding, huh…” mumbled Kakavasha and his smile turned a bit bitter, a bit sad. He moved his pieces with deft fingers. For a moment, there was silence. “That’s a good way of describing it.” He didn’t try excusing himself. “But, if what you’re looking for is an explanation… Well, you’ve already seen my ‘true self’, haven’t you? What use is it for me to go back to the past?”
And that answer, just like always, was heavy with meaning and double-meaning.
Veritas peeled the answer various times and found clarity. Why would Kakavasha act like Aventurine, when Aventurine was technically dead twice over? Why would he act like before, when people already knew that it was an elaborate lie that would only crumble? Why hide, when he had decided to move forward and accept the past he had been running from?
When Veritas looked into Kakavasha’s eyes, he saw a glint there.
Yes, freedom looked good on him. Mute colors looked good on him, made his golden hair look more vibrant, so much so that the single white strand could almost be overlooked. A genuine smile looked good on him, made him look younger.
“I’m not complaining,” he clarified, just in case. “It is… nice.”
“‘Nice’. Wow.” And Kakavasha laughed loudly. “Have I broken you, Veritas?”
“Wha– No! Of course not!” he spluttered and– was this the first time Kakavasha had called him by his first name? Was it? He couldn’t remember. He hurriedly looked down to the board to hide his probably red face.
“I expected something other than ‘nice’ from you,” admitted Kakavasha, still laughing, gaze warm.
“Oh, be quiet,” grouched Veritas as he moved another piece and– “Check.”
“Ah, fuck–”
—
A fire of that magnitude could only mean one thing: deaths. 41, to be exact.
Pedro had been released from jail soon enough after the attack and he had wasted no time in throwing the police’s inaction to their faces, how he had warned them about the attack, only for them to ignore him completely. The town heard about it soon after, too, and a wave of support for the workers’ and the factories and the victims followed, culminating in numerous protests and pressure, all aimed at the board of directors and the authorities of the town and the territory and the entire planet. As for Lucas… well, he would stay a nice long time behind bars.
Topaz was taking advantage of everything. She used the protests to put more pressure on the directors, she used the attack to showcase just how horrible the state of the still-standing factories was, she offered money and resources to rebuild and invest in the production of the batteries, cutting-edge technology that would replace the past machinery corroded by this planet’s air.
“All of that leads to–” explained Topaz, a wide grin on her face as they walked.
“A safe environment to work and no more health problems,” finished for her Kakavasha, a satisfied and even impressed grin on his own face. He huffed out a laugh. “Now, that’s a job well done, Topaz of Debt Retrieval.”
“Thank you, thank you. That’s high praise from Aventurine of Stratagems himself,” she said, doing a mocking bow and pushing Numby away from a silver ring abandoned in the middle of the street on the way.
“Well, I’m not quite that guy anymore, so… you’ll just have high praise from a random guy on some random planet,” huffed Kakavasha easily enough with an amused smile.
Topaz’s grin turned rueful and embarrassed.
“A-ah, right. I forgot– yeah. Don’t mind me, then,” she said, stumbling over her words and avoiding his gaze.
Veritas hid a sigh. Topaz had started acting a bit strange, ever since the fire and the news of Kakavasha getting back his memories – he guessed it had something to do with their past conflicting ideals and methods. It seemed to be mostly one-sided, though, as Kakavasha seemed to regard Topaz the same way he had when he had been amnesiac, which was– good.
This was not his problem to deal with, though.
They reached the local church soon after. There were already various people – workers, mostly – mingling outside, a lot of them wearing black and holding flowers that must have cost a fortune, with how difficult they were to find on this planet.
They found Sarai easily with her blond hair – shorter now after a good chunk of it had been burned off – and white flowers. Her eyes were already teary, even minutes before the funeral was set to start, and she was clutching her flowers with a white-knuckled grip. She looked terribly lost in that sea of black.
They hurried to her and as soon as she saw Kakavasha, her jaw trembled.
“Come here,” mumbled Kakavasha, opening his arms immediately, and Sarai threw herself at him, clutching at his dark coat and rumpling her flowers slightly. Veritas moved closer and took them carefully from her, straightening the petals and stems with careful hands. “Daniel?”
“At home,” responded Sarai, mumbling into Kakavasha’s coat. “It’s– better this way. I–”
“I understand,” whispered Kakavasha, and he probably did, now more than ever. He remembered his sister, after all, and Veritas didn’t know much about her – not even her name – but he did know that older siblings tended to shield their younger siblings from suffering and sadness as much as they could.
They filled into the church moments later and lingered around the back, standing. People cried, they talked about all the lives that had been lost and vowed to remember them with care and love. They sang for them, raising the flowers to the sky in a sea of colors.
Veritas watched the ceremony attentively, silent and respectful, and closed his eyes as the family members that chose to step to the front and talk about their lost loved ones broke down crying at some moments, feeling his heart ache for them.
He heard Topaz move and when he looked at her, he saw her make a sign with her right hand, before bowing her head with respect.
He heard Kakavasha mutter a string of phrases in another language, quick and heavy, before raising his left hand to the air and closing his eyes.
Veritas took a deep breath.
“Requiesce in pace,” he muttered, too quiet for the others to hear.
The ceremony moved forward. Sarai led the way to the front, her flowers up in the air like a beacon, tears streaming down her face. She had lost quite a few friends, companions, and colleagues. Her coworkers followed her, singing about hope and the future and life.
They watched the stream of black sprinkled with colors for a moment.
“Have you told them?” asked Veritas, not looking away from the front.
Kakavasha breathed in. And out. His shoulders dropped slightly.
“Yeah,” he replied, voice soft. He paused with a grimace. “It was– hard. But… they understand why I need to go. This planet is no longer safe for me. It’s not like I’ll never visit– I’ll try, of course, but… living here is too risky.”
Kakavasha’s eyes never strayed from Sarai’s form and Veritas followed his gaze. He could understand. Sarai – and Daniel, too – had grown on him during the time they had known each other, after all. And Kakavasha had lived with them for months, had taken care of them, looked after them–
Mm.
Maybe he could do something to help.
He had been thinking about it ever since it was clear that their paths would need to separate, at least for a time. His heart tugged at him, pulling him to Kakavasha, as if he was following the guiding beacon of a lighthouse.
He had already let go once– he wasn’t about to let go again.
Mind made up, he hummed and reached out to take Kakavasha’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Kakavasha squeezed it back and took a deep breath, still looking forward.
Always looking forward.
—
There wasn’t a lot of space traffic on the planet. Only a few cargo ships ever touched down on the ground and a lot of those were contraband, offering exotic products too expensive for most people of the planet to afford. Yet, they were the perfect way to leave the planet undetected. And cheap.
Kakavasha decided to board the next one, nearly a week after the fire. Acheron herself had parted ways with them a few days before, saying that Kakavasha wouldn’t succumb to the pull of the Nihility – which was a relief, in more ways than one – and that she couldn’t linger too much. Kakavasha had thanked her profusely, made a point of telling her that she could ask a favor of him whenever, before offering a hand to her. She had taken it with a slight frown, confused, but graceful. She reminded Veritas of a ghost. Or maybe an ancient legend about a river and a guardian and memories–
In any case, the universe continued moving forward, so goodbyes came, even if no one wanted to say them.
They met up at the apartment the night before Kakavasha boarded the ship and finally started his wandering through the universe. Antonio made dinner, Daniel and Sarai stayed close to Kakavasha, and Topaz and Veritas tried to hide how guilty they felt about technically being the reason Kakavasha needed to leave.
“It’s not your fault, though,” he said, anyway, frowning at them, a bit like how a mother would scold her children, disappointed. “You helped this planet, really. You helped me. This is not bad.”
“I know, but I just–” Topaz gestured to Sarai’s teary eyes and Daniel’s hand clutching Kakavasha’s shirt and let out a long groan. “You shouldn’t need to leave. ”
Kakavasha only sighed and rubbed his eyes. They only had a few hours left – the ship would take off in the early morning to avoid anyone paying too much attention to them, after all. Their dinner had already lengthened until late night and it would probably continue on until they collapsed.
The mood was somber and sad and Veritas finally sighed and reached into his bag, shuffling and searching for– ah.
“What do you have there?” asked Kakavasha, leaning forward to peek at whatever Veritas was holding with curious eyes.
Veritas only offered it to him with an arched eyebrow.
Kakavasha took it with careful hands and a confused frown.
“A… phone?” he asked, looking from said phone to Veritas and back. “Why…? I can’t use this, the IPC would see the messages and calls, they would–”
Veritas only reached into his bag again and produced another phone. This one, he gave to Sarai and Daniel and he watched their eyes grow and fill with realization.
And then he looked at Kakavasha and cleared his throat.
“I modified that phone myself,” he explained. He also took out a couple of chargers – which would work perfectly with the batteries the planet would produce, by the way – and left them on the table. “The IPC won’t be able to track it or see the messages we receive from it or listen in on the calls. It’s pretty much impenetrable.” He huffed. “Honestly, for a corporation as big as the IPC, it’s terribly easy to avoid their security.” He paused. “Not that I mind.”
Kakavasha blinked and turned on the phone. He scrolled through the contacts – Veritas, Topaz and Sarai’s numbers for now, as well as the Trailblazer’s, just in case – and then paused, thoughtful. Sarai and Daniel both fawned over their new phone and rushed off to tell Antonio about it, wide smiles on their faces. Veritas watched with a deep sense of satisfaction in his chest. Ah, yes, a job well done indeed.
And then Kakavasha turned to him and– hugged him tight.
And then he raised his head and– kissed him.
That– was still new. The feel of his lips, chapped as they were, was like an electric current flowing through him. Dozens of amperes flowing through his nervous system – or cardiovascular system? Veritas still found himself breathless when it happened, a shot of adrenaline that lingered even after Kakavasha moved away with a wide smile and shining eyes.
And Nous, those eyes .
“Ha! I knew it!” came Topaz’s cheery yell and they both turned away from each other to frown at her. “I knew you had a thing going on!”
Veritas found himself at a loss. When he crossed a glance with Kakavasha, he was surprised to see that he wasn’t the only one.
“Um. Topaz. This is actually… quite new,” explained Kakavasha, words stilted for once. “Like, last week new.”
Topaz froze with a frown.
“Really? But I could swear that–” she broke off with a string of mumbles that made no sense to Veritas as she gathered Numby in her arms, clearly confused. “But– mm….”
After that, the night turned… maybe not happy, but definitely less heavy.
Antonio joked and poked at Kakavasha about his relationship with Veritas – and got demolished in chess by both of them in return.
Sarai and Daniel dragged Kakavasha into a photo marathon because they wanted to have something to remember him by – to which Kakavasha reminded them that he was not dead and that he would return.
Topaz promised to message and keep in touch with Kakavasha and, as hesitant as she was, Veritas knew her to be genuine.
The group collapsed asleep when it was only a couple of hours until Kakavasha had to set off.
Veritas helped him gather the few things he had to his name into a bag, helped him calculate the money he’d need to start off his adventure – Sarai had offered it all and Kakavasha had been firm on only getting half of it – and then… then they laid side by side on Kakavasha’s rickety bed in silence. Both of them were awake, hands intertwined on Veritas’ chest.
“You’ll be careful,” mumbled Veritas and it wasn’t a question or a request.
“I will,” said Kakavasha anyway. And then he huffed out a laugh. “I still need to kick your ass at chess, after all.”
“That’s your only motivation to see me again?” shot back Veritas, arching an eyebrow at Kakavasha.
His partner hummed.
“Well, kissing you is nice too, I suppose,” he said, nonchalant. Once again, Veritas felt his heart beat in his chest, so quick that he was sure that Kakavasha could feel it where their hands rested. There was silence between them again and then Kakavasha sighed. “Do you really wish to do this?”
“This?” asked Veritas, frowning.
“Yes, this. This… relationship. We’ll be far apart more than we’ll ever be close,” said Kakavasha. “Is it worth it–?”
Kakavasha wasn’t talking about the relationship. Not really. Veritas could see it clear as day now. He had seen behind the veil once, twice, countless times now, so tearing it open was easier than ever. And what he saw beyond it was insecurity, hesitation, a primal fear that Kakavasha and Aventurine both had been experts at hiding.
So, Veritas sat up and grabbed Kakavasha’s face with his hands, gently, so gently, and looked him right in the eye.
“You’re worth it,” he said, simply, and he hoped the message reached Kakavasha.
It probably did, if he had to guess from the expression that appeared on his face for just a moment, before it was replaced with a soft smile.
“Okay,” breathed Kakavasha. “You’re the genius here, after all. I’ll trust your judgement.”
“I’m not the only genius here,” sniffed Veritas and before Kakavasha could deny it with a nervous laugh or brush it off, he continued. “We’ll meet again, gambler.”
“Of course,” nodded Kakavasha, firm, and he reached up to clutch at Veritas’ hand.
“No gambling this time?” asked Veritas, arching an eyebrow.
Kakavasha laughed softly.
“You know I don’t really gamble too much with important things,” he said, and it sounded pointed, heavy with meaning.
Veritas could feel his face getting red again and he coughed as he moved his hands away from Kakavasha’s face. His partner only laughed and dragged him into another kiss and Veritas could do nothing but melt into his embrace.
Kakavasha would be okay.
Veritas was sure of that, now.
He was a survivor; always had been. He was a genius, a lucky gambler, a survivor that had climbed all the way up. A fighter that deserved freedom. A ruthless man born in the desert whose heart called for blood. And Veritas knew him well enough by then – had worked with him enough times – to know that he would succeed.
It was why he had told Kakavasha of a man named Boothill, had told him of how the other man had asked Veritas about Oswaldo Schneider after the Penacony disaster.
And Veritas would stand by his side, in the shadows if he had to, and support him in everything he could and at the end– they would reunite. Again and again.
Like the sun and the moon, meeting up for an eclipse.
So, when he watched Kakavasha walk up the ramp and disappear into the ship that would take him off the planet that had turned into his home, Veritas wasn’t worried or sad or angry.
He just returned to his work, made sure that this planet so important for Kakavasha would have decent schools, decent hospitals, decent working conditions.
He waited for that icon in his message app to light up with a new message.
He trusted in Kakavasha and their orbits.
And waited for the eclipse.
–
Kakavasha 🦚
Always up for a game of chess
Hey, I heard from Sarai about the scholarship you
implemented at the new school.
You better make sure that Daniel gets in.
Veritas Ratio, I swear.
Who do you take me for, gambler?
Daniel was the first recommendation letter I wrote.
He will get in.
He’s a good kid, hardworking and bright.
Good.
Let's meet up and celebrate, then!
I’ll stay around the Circonia cluster for a few more weeks.
Can you make it?
I’ll see what I can do.