Chapter Text
12/19/2009, Evening
They eventually compose themselves enough to exit the theater. Mitsuru throws caution to the wind and twines her fingers with both of theirs, swinging slightly as they walk across the lobby to the main exit. It feels needlessly girlish and giddy. She never wants to stop.
The cold winter air hits them all at once when the door opens. Akihiko rearranges his scarf and Shinji snatches his beanie off Mitsuru's scalp. "S'my hat," he says to Mitsuru's affronted pout. "Get your own."
She's about to reply that it being his hat is precisely the reason why she wants it when a familiar, wholly unwanted voice rings out across the square.
"Mitsuru!"
She and her boys all turn as one to look at the speaker. She lets go of their hands. It takes a second for them to also disengage.
Elbowing his way out of the crowd is a middle-aged businessman, slightly sweaty despite the chill, and dressed in an ill-fitted gray suit. He huffs and puffs and mops sweat from his brow, sliding his thinning hair back into its part. Her stomach flops with disgust. It's her board-mandated marriage partner. I can't even remember his name. I put him in my phone as "Waste of Space." Yukari taught me that I didn't have to use real names.
"I've been calling you. where have you been?" asks her unwanted fiancé. Mitsuru scowls. The temperature plummets three degrees. Rather than shrinking back or guarding, her boys flank her and assume defensive positions. My own personal honor guard.
She puts all the incredulity and indignance she can possibly muster into her next words. "What? I have specifically not made any plans with you. If you spent even one fraction of a second reading my missives I explicitly said I did not want to meet you this month. We needed to reschedule."
"What does it matter? I'm free tonight," scoffs the man. He rubs his arms for warmth in the face of the sudden deeper chill. She can hear Akihiko's gloves creaking and Shinji's cane tapping on the ground rhythmically.
"I'm a busy man, as you know. You're just a student - work around it. Not only that, you're a woman."
She holds the boys back. That's easy bait. "No. I'm busy with my own plans," she says as evenly as she can. She cannot endanger everything her father has built just for her own vanity.
The man scoffs. "Your own plans... those don't matter. Do you know how long I spent looking for you? Don't tell me you have something more important to do than spend time with me."
Mitsuru pinches the bridge of her nose. She can feel a vein standing out at her temple and tries desperately to control her fury. For father. Civility for father.
Shinji outright growls behind her. It's pleasant.
"Why the long face? You're supposed to be my fiancee, you know. You should smile more. I thought you understood our arrangement."
Mitsuru hears Akihiko mutter "Your arrangement is bullshit" for her ears alone. She fights to control her vindictive little smile.
"If you're going to be my future wife, you'll need to learn obedience," continues her fiancé, sneering. "Why must you and your family always be so difficult?"
"Actually, I thought the terms of the arrangement were quite agreeable and lenient for your company," grits Mitsuru. Entirely too lenient. You are on the cusp of stepping too far.
"Well, at least your father's not around anymore, so that's something of a relief. I imagine you feel the same."
Cold fury blossoms in her gut. Artemisia strains in her soul and frost falls from her fingertips. Her mouth flaps open and shut with inarticulate rage. Her hands shake with the effort of holding back an ice-age level extinction event. Everything narrows to a single point of focus between this worm's beady little eyes. Her voice goes quiet.
"How. Dare. You."
He sneers and opens his mouth, but nothing makes it out before she suddenly sees Shinji surging forward. To her immense surprise, he headbutts her fiancé directly in the nose. As he staggers backwards reeling, Akihiko appears quick as lightning and delivers a flawless uppercut to his solar plexus. Her fiancé staggers, but doesn't go down.
That means her boys held back, for her. They could've turned this man into a smear on the pavement, Dark Hour or no, but they're waiting on her say-so. The devotion sends a thrill frissoning down her spine and below her belly.
"... Thank you, boys."
"What the hell was that for?!" pants Waste of Space. "I don't know who you two thugs are or what she's paying you for this, but get lost. This isn't your business. If you walk away now, I'll let this insult go. I'm kind, like that."
"She isn't paying us anything," snarls Akihiko. He stands in front of her protectively with his hands up, trying to physically shield her from the condescending words.
"I'd do that shit again for free anyway," drawls Shinji, leaning casually on his cane and scowling. "S'a nice theater. Movie came with after-show entertainment. My own personal one-clown circus, right here in the square."
"Nah, not enough makeup. I think he's more like a bad comedian," Akihiko replies. "Shame those tomatoes on the roof aren't ready yet."
Her fiancé scowls, then peers around Akihiko at her. "Come on, Mitsuru," he wheedles. "You know how this works. Corporate management is not child's play. No matter how smart you think you are, you're still going to need my knowledge and experience." A smug smile spreads across his face as he plays his trump card. "The Kirijo Group still needs the cooperation of my company, right...?
Mitsuru closes her eyes. The board said they needed stability... And absent a controlling, living President, they would need a sound partnership and visible leadership structure.
"...Right," she grits through her teeth.
"There you go. There's that intellect the board kept talking about." He smiles. It's greasy, and revolting. "Keep making assessments like that and you'll definitely earn a place on my arm at the big boys' table." He brushes past Akihiko, who only moves when he sees Mitsuru's sharp hand gesture out of the corner of his eye. She looks at the ground and crosses her arms as he walks up to her.
"Ah, you called off the dog. Good girl, Mitsuru."
The blood drains from her face. She holds back a retch. She hears Akihiko's breathing stop and Shinji snarl. She feels Artemisia writhing, begging to be set free to wreak havoc.
"I knew you would listen to reason. Let's go. I've made reservations." He puts his hand on her shoulder and pulls her behind him as he stalks off. She shakes it away violently, skin crawling and bile bubbling up her throat. But she doesn't look up, and she follows for a step or two before her boys speak up.
"Mitsuru," comes Shinji's low, soft voice. "Is this what you want?"
"Don't give in, Mitsuru," hisses Akihiko. "Remember what we said."
Their voices trigger a landslide of memories. Foreheads together over a hospital bed. Cigarettes in hand on a rooftop. Promises on a metal card. Naked bodies in her bed, hands and teeth on skin and flesh, lips on hers and sliding down. Afterward, holding each other through the Dark Hour. Back to back to back in Tartarus, creating a web of destruction with no weaknesses. Idle moments in restaurants and grocery stores and dorms and an aquarium. Firewood and food. Ozone, leather, and salt. Two little boys and one little girl trying their best to keep everyone safe, so that no one else has to die.
And not fifteen minutes ago, a girl in love swinging her hands in between the two halves of her heart.
"Fuck the board."
"Tell them to kneel before you."
Well, it's simple when you put it like that.
The doomed man in front of her starts talking again, for some reason. "Commoners like you aren't fit to breathe the same air as us. Follow and I'll call the police."
Mitsuru snaps. They worked so hard to put that air back in Shinji's lungs, back in Akihiko's. She will not tolerate any more of this. Artemisia breaks the chain and lunges.
Her body moves into action almost of its own accord. She kicks his legs out from under him with sharp blows to the backs of his knees, then grabs his skull and shoves it into the ground. She plants her heel firmly on the back of his head, standing over his body and holding him in absolute submission. In an instant her boys are at her side, fists up, cane raised, and ready for her.
"Kneel before me and listen, if you are even capable of doing such a thing." Her fiancé sputters and tries to rise, but she grinds her heel down hard at the base of his skull. He yelps and is silent. His kneeling, prostrate form goes limp all at once. She smiles, but no warmth touches her eyes.
"Don't you dare talk to them like that. You will not call the police on these men, because they are mine. The police would never answer your call unless I gave the go-ahead, because they are also mine. Everything on this island is mine. Everything the Kirijo Group owns and holds is mine, because I am the Kirijo Group." Shinji's eyes widen. Akihiko bares his teeth in a feral grin.
"My father left everything to me. He raised me to follow in his footsteps. I don't need you. I never did. He gave me everything I needed. You would be nothing but dead. Weight." Her boot bears down heavier and heavier as she speaks.
"Your knowledge and experience aren't worth a damn anyway, since you clearly didn't know how to handle a woman like me. The deal is off. Tell the board that effective immediately our partnership is dissolved and I am taking sole control of the Group's holdings, as laid out in my father's will. The emancipation paperwork cleared this morning and I am within my rights. If you don't, they'll find out from me first thing tomorrow, anyway. And if you try to leverage your holdings to retaliate for this, I will simply buy them out from under you."
Mitsuru shoves him to the side with her boot. He goes sprawling, staring up at her in abject fear. She can see frost forming on his eyelashes and hair. The sight of him so pathetic and panicked stokes a sick sense of glee within her. She turns her nose up, tosses her hair, and says, "Get out of my sight. You should go to great pains to ensure I never encounter you again. Come along, boys." She spins on her heel and makes for the train back home, then turns over her shoulder for one last jab.
"To borrow two phrases from better men than you: I've been waiting for this. Adios, asshole."
They both catch her eye with questioning glances. She pretends to consider, then nods and turns back around. Shinji's cane thwacks flesh and Akihiko's foot slams into something soft. There's a cry of pain. The smile finally reaches her eyes, and she clasps their hands again when they draw near.
They walk into the station and stand there for a moment before Mitsuru breaks the silence. "Thank you."
"Anytime," whispers Akihiko.
"Sure thing, princess," smiles Shinji. He clears his throat. "Uh. Hell of a display, back there."
Akihiko swallows and shifts. "Uh-huh."
Mitsuru rides the last bit of adrenaline in her system before they board the train. "I meant what I said. You're both mine. No one touches you but me." She squeezes tight.
"That said, I think seeing you two commit violence in my name has... awoken something in me that will not be put to rest," she says. "If you would like to kneel before me when we get home and demonstrate your fealty... I might exercise my right to touch you." Akihiko's knees visibly wobble and Shinji loses his breath.
"Yes ma'am," both of them say. She shudders and bares her teeth in a grin. The feral animal purrs.
"Good boys."
--
12/20/2009, Early Morning
Mitsuru blinks her eyes open blearily and puffs out a mouthful of brown hair. Shinji ended up the middle spoon last night, it seems. She folds herself closer to his warmth, noting with pleasure that physical therapy with Akihiko is already rebuilding the mass and tone lost to two months of immobility. He hums, and the bassy frequency resonates from his naked chest to hers.
"Mornin', princess. C'n you sleep in today?" he whispers. Akihiko shifts in his arms. She reaches over Shinji's shoulder to pet short silver hair.
"Likely not. I... have to put my money where my mouth is, as the phrase goes. There are forms that must be filed, press conferences that must be scheduled, interviews to be done..."
"Tch. Heavy hangs the head."
"Indeed." She buries her nose in the back of his neck and breathes deeply of the scent of firewood and food. "But this is a burden well worth its weight in gold."
"Now who's a softie?" She can feel his chuckle.
"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," she smiles. For a moment, they just lay there cuddling quietly, then Mitsuru has an idea.
"You know... I told Akihiko this while you were... asleep. But you should know, as well. Sometimes, when the burden does become too heavy and I feel like crumbling, I fantasize about getting on my motorcycle and just running away. Leaving it all behind. And in my fantasy... you both run away with me."
Shinji is quiet for a moment, then takes a hitching breath. In a choked voice full of feeling, he whispers, "You can run away with me anytime you want, Mitsuru."
She smiles and taps her forehead against him. "He said the same thing. Now... The issue is, my motorcycle only seats two. And I highly doubt either of you want a sidecar. So... I was thinking. If I provided the opportunity, would you both take motorcycle lessons?" She shuffles tentatively. "And... when you have time, you could take turns going on rides with me, while you learn."
Akihiko chuckles. Mitsuru startles a bit, since she had no idea he was awake.
"Dibs on the first ride-along, Mimi."
Shinji sighs. "Guess I'll make dinner while I wait."
"Neither of you have answered the lesson question," she points out. She isn't squirming nervously. She isn't.
"Of course. I've got time, now. Might as well spend it doing something worthwhile with the two of you."
"Whatever you ask, wherever you go, I'm there, Mitsuru. Same as always."
The tears finally come. She's never been this happy. Outside this room may lie a labyrinthine deathtrap of corporate drama, politics, and supernatural threats to life itself, but inside there is nothing but her, her boys, and actual plans for the future that they're finally letting themselves have.
"Akihiko, Shinji... I love you."
"I love you too," they both say in unison. She holds them as tightly as she can, and she doesn't let go. She never will, ever again.
--end