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Rien first meets Mercury on the dirty streets of Lodden.
He doesn't know his mother. His father had gambled their last bit of land away before ending his life in front of him, and having no family to turn to, Rien becomes an orphan.
An orange light nearly blinds him, and through the pitter-patter of the rain he makes out the sounds of engines rolling.
A tall man steps out of a shiny, black limousine into the rainy night with an assistant on tow. They open the umbrella as if to shield him for the filth of the streets. His pale grey eyes are detached as he glances at the grotesque sight; the value of his father's corpse equivalent to an ant or rats'.
To Rien, his father meant nothing more than it did to the stranger. He'd reached past the point of feeling grief for him. Instead, he set his eyes on the glossy luxury car, the well-tailored suit and the indifferent Mercury - which all shocked him more than his only family's death. Mercury acted like a harbinger of dawn, bringing some colour into his otherwise gloomy weird.
...
Rien does not have a good relationship with his father: Mercury.
He'd go so far as to say that their relationship was built purely on business. He was closer to Vulture—of all people—than with him.
But Rien didn't mind, in all honesty. Mercury had given him freedom aside from a few ground rules, and the lack of surveillance greatly entertained Rien's mischief. He’d adopted him intending to make him his heir, and so long as Rien complied with his orders, he’d never have to worry about money again.
Even if their relationship was cold and distant, there was an air of mutual trust and formidability in each other's company.
Mercury is the CEO of the Mercury Group and Rien is his successor. At the end of the day, they were using each other for their own selfish goals — the nature of ‘father’ and ‘son’ existed as a mere formality.
Rien had wholeheartedly accepted this fact.
…Maybe that was why Mercury's treatment shocked him more than it should have.
…
Rien didn't think being taken hostage would be anything too drastic. Being under duress isn't anything unfamiliar to him either: pretend to be afraid, present yourself as docile, wait till their guard drops and strike them at the right opportunity.
It’s the exact tactic he’d apply with the Druids, and it had worked brilliantly.
Rien sets the box he retrieved in front of Mercury, grinning wickedly. “I know why you were interested in them.”
Mercury glances between him and the box. Even as he takes the box into his hands and inspects it, his grey eyes show no emotion. He only gives away a small, satisfactory hum.
“Your decision could have unilaterally diverted our whole plan.”
Rien feels a surge of disappointment but quickly covers it with a casual smile. “But inadvertently I helped speed up your master plan. ” At the room's stillness, he adds, "Thankfully I wasn't affected by what they did. Guess I have something to thank the New Island scientists for making me the freak I am."
Even as he watches Mercury open the damned box and absorb some kind of purple mist into his eyes, Rien never fully understands what his plans are. It's been eleven years since he's known him, and Rien knows him no better than himself.
He knows the contents inside the box are related to the old god, and…
Ah. An incomprehensible feeling overtakes him, and he acts on it, even if just to see a brief flicker of emotion on Mercury's face.
“It's easier to dismiss the value of an object in permanence to a grander scheme,” he slowly begins. “But its dangers are never vanquished. Maybe you should've—”
He falls silent. Mercury stares at him as if he were an object of curious fascination, like Rien hadn't met the foolish decision of being concerned.
He shakes his head and mutters, “Never mind.” Mercury always had a plan; no matter how absurd or selfish it seemed, he would always achieve it. No one could stop him from accomplishing it.
The sun digs its heels harshly into his skin. Rien Is almost tempted to loosen his cuffs and unbutton his shirt in the stifling atmosphere, but in the growing silence, even a soft exhale sounds like a noisy disturbance.
Rien almost startles out of his skin when the box returns to the table with a thud .
“Your work is quite sufficient,” Mercury says. Rien widens his eyes, but it escapes Mercury's field of sight. His eyes are trained on the window, someplace in the distance.
It isn't until he looks at him with an eyebrow raised that Rien realizes he's remained quiet for too long—and he is gaping .
“I didn't expect you to look so surprised. Did you not comprehend my plans?”
He clicks his jaw shut. “No, nothing like that. It's just…”
Did Mercury just compliment him?
The thought is so distracting that his mind almost short-circuits; when was the last time he received a direct appraisal from the man?
He can't remember. He can't think. The personal stakes of bringing the matter up to the table are so high, that Rien abandons the gamble entirely.
(This is not like him at all. What has gotten into him?)
“...we're not invited to the peace talks tomorrow. How do we plan on getting inside?”
“Mercury Group has helped sustain peace within the Apple Federation for more than a century. The President's Office cannot disregard our presence any longer, especially in events like this.”
The implications of Mercury's words relax him, as much as they excite him. Chaos and annihilation all seem so wonderful, that his previous troubles are swept away in the ocean of discord.
(Yet, like the currents of an ocean and continuity of time, nothing ever truly disappears from this world.)
…
Rien spends most of his time in the Mystique Club at Melson, even after becoming the new president.
The place never fails to interest him; it was nothing more than a web of obscenity and vile crimes. A play against fate that he, the spider, loves to weave to his whims. Nothing escapes his ears about the happenings inside his building, not even the case of the pink-haired, lady luck being taken hostage.
The gamble lifts his spirits, especially before he meets with Mercury. After saving Lady Luck, her strange friend and a talking cat — he can never seem to be rid of those creatures — he invites them to the top of the Club.
Inside the room specifically designed for guests, Rien does what he does best: he gambles against fate.
“It’s a simple game,” Rien motions to the waiter beside them, who brings a tray containing two decks of cards. “You can either cooperate or betray. If you cooperate, the given number of decks will be split evenly between the two players. If one player chooses to betray, however, then they get to steal the remaining decks from their opponent. The players with the most cards win.”
Rien leans back on his chair and waits patiently.
Nikki goes into deep thought. But eventually, she agrees, though her companions seem less than pleased by her decision.
He smiles. “Go ahead, then. Ladies first.”
Given the first play, Nikki has the chance to win immediately by choosing to betray. Yet she doesn't. Rien is more than glad; the game wouldn't have been interesting otherwise.
The first round passes. A second. Third, fourth… Tenth.
No one concedes. Nikki chooses nothing other than cooperation and Rien huffs.
“If you thought,” Rien finally says on his chance, “that I also kept choosing cooperation to entertain your sincerity, then you are naive. I can easily secure victory in this game.”
“I do not believe so,” Nikki says firmly. “This is not a game, is it? You intended it to be a test, which at its core is just an imitation of reality, so I'll give my answers as such.” She lays her cards down, pink eyes glowing with a hazardous fire.
“All life is a gamble of cooperation and betrayal. Countless times of cooperation vanish with a single betrayal. However, in this game of life and death, I believe there is a chance for us all to win.”
Rien only shrugs. He finds it strange, looking at the determination and resilience on Nikki's face, that they're both fighting against a common enemy, Fate, and yet they both stand on opposite sides.
“I think I’ve finally found my answer,” Rien says. Nikki looks confused, but he pointedly ignores her and throws the cards into the air with a grin.
"Relax," he assures at Lady Luck's horrified expression. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? We both win." The game ends in a mutual victory.
Between dealing with a hostage situation and taking said hostage to the topmost floor for a game of cards, time flies. It’s already nightfall. Rien stands in front of the window, which covers the better part of the entire wall. He watches Nikki’s car drive out of the building. Footsteps gently approach behind him.
“Mr. Mercury’s car has entered the parking lot.”
Rien expected this.
He slowly lifts his head and looks at his reflection on the glass window. He straightens his tie and fastens the cuff on his wrists. He knows why his father was here.
…
“The waiter said something happened in the garage this afternoon. Has it been handled?”
Rien smirks. “I caught the troublemaker, got dirt on Feriel, and saved a hostage.” He observes Mercury as he scans the desks on the table before eventually taking a seat near the window. He grins, “Even a movie wouldn’t have such a perfect ending.”
“You fired two shots.”
Rien’s smile falters. His mood sours.
“It seems like you even invited them up for a chat.”
“We played a game, too.” He averts his gaze. “The one I played in class, not that you’d know. It’s not like you ever joined my school events or saw my report cards.”
“The class you got a perfect score in?”
Rien huffs, lifting the deck of cards into his hands. ”I didn’t think you’d care for such trivial matters. Want to play a few rounds?” Even before he gets a reply, Rien starts shuffling the cards. He’s confident he’s going to win; he needs some closure before Mercury breaks the news and it’s already too late.
On the other hand, Mercury looks inscrutable as ever. But there's something about him, how he straightens his back and watches him handle the cards, as if found this situation as amusing as Rien does. He looks at the clock and then back at him. “You never win.”
“I’ll win this time.”
…
The ticking of the clock weighs heavily on Rien.
Out of seven rounds, he only wins once. And the time he does, Mercury looks unfazed. Rien could never gouge an emotion from his face, and he finds himself increasingly frustrated as time runs out. For such a simple game, the number of attacks and counterattacks are varied and complicated. The tense atmosphere breaks in only a second, and unlike with Nikki, Mercury isn't up for unwanted gambles.
Mercury wins the eighth round. Rien slumps on the sofa, arms slung over the backrest. He feels angry. At this rate, he may never get the answers he wants. The resentment pushes him back to his feet.
“One more game!”
Mercury raises an eyebrow. “That’s seven, now.”
“I’ll win the next one...”
Mercury must have caught on to his desperation. He only so glances at him before gathering the decks into a neat stack. “You should start a new game.”
This time, Mercury shuffles the cards. The gesture is so welcoming and appeasing that it freezes Rien momentarily. His anger fades away, and a listless smile flickers across his face.
“I’m not used to you talking to me like this.” And Rien knows what that entails.
“You will be the new leader of the Mercury Group.” Something suspiciously close to mischief flickers in his otherwise taunting tone, and Rien struggles to grasp it. “How well the Group performs depends entirely on you. As such, you may want to reduce your absconding, or your readiness to catch an early flight to Ocean of Memories.”
Rien blinks. A genuine laugh rolls over his body, something squeezing his heart like tweezers. Even against Mercury's silence and obvious disapproval, Rien wheezes and chortles and snickers until his chest aches .
“I never thought I'd live to see you try and joke,” Rien wipes a tear away from his eye, still smiling from the aftermath at the bizarre change of topic. “We've never talked like this before," he repeats, if only to himself in realisation.
We’ve never talked like this before. This could be the last time I ever see you again.
It’s everything Rien wishes to say and confront him on. But he keeps those words to himself if only to enjoy the few lasting moments of peace between them.
The clock strikes an hour and rings. The long-awaited secretary enters and places a thick stack of papers in front of Rien.
“Sign it.”
So my premonition was true, Rien thinks distantly. Strangely, he feels nothing on the subject. Like a growing void, his mind is only filled with more and more questions. Mercury hands him a fountain pen—it’s black and shows some mottled traces of time.
He recognizes it. How can Rien not recognize it? It’s the pen Mercury that has been with him since he started his business. And now he’s passing it over to him, a torch to light the way for the future of the company.
Rien nods. He takes the pen and signs his name at the end of each document: Rien Mercury. By the time he signs the last paper, Mercury looks ready to leave.
“Then I shall leave this pen to you.” He rises from the couch and is halfway to the door when:
“Wait.”
Mercury stops in his path.
Rien presses his lips into a thin line. He knows he shouldn’t ask, but still, “Why did you make me your successor?”
If the question does catch Mercury off guard, he doesn't show it. He seems as relaxed and calm as ever, contrasting Rien’s mind which is buzzing with a dozen or so thoughts.
“None reciprocated enough trust in me to name them as my successor, and few vied for the same reasons as I did. You are at the core of this business, and you’ve built enough of a name to keep the Mercury Group stable and flourishing.”
“Oh?” Rien tries not to sound hurt. “And is that the only reason? You wish to pass me one of, if not the biggest business tycoon in Miraland out of worry of conflict? Would you not have chosen me over Feriel if not for the blatant nepotism?”
“I have raised you to become more than worthy.”
“It certainly reflects how interested you were in reviewing my report cards or attending my school events.”
Rien has pushed it. Mercury’s gaze narrows. “You are behaving like a child, Rien.”
“You are leaving,” he retorts sharply.
Mercury frowns, clearly not expecting his reply, but his calculated expression remains. “And with most of the company’s assets in your hand. You should be glad.”
But I’m not. Rien wishes to scream at him; maybe throw the wine over his pristine white suit, or face the wrath of the most influential and powerful creature across the land than continue playing cards with a brick wall. It won’t be the first time he’s rebelled against Mercury, but it would be the first time he’s ever directly opposed his orders.
Mercury stares at him for a few more seconds, and Rien swears he can hear all the gears in his brain turning before he gives a hum.
“You are upset.”
“Oh, really?” Rien scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What a shocking conclusion. I didn’t realise myself.”
“You are upset that I am not upset,” Mercury completes, looking down at Rien. It’s so clearly condescending that it enrages him to the point of exhaustion. He can’t win with Mercury. No amount of talk will ever mend their broken relationship.
“It is foolish of me to want otherwise,” Rien equivocates, exhaling softly. Then everything falls quiet because no matter how absent Mercury is from his life or how intricately Rien fabricates his lies, he could never conceal the lie as truth—not to him, at least.
“I am unaware of how to deal with mortal feelings,” Mercury confesses, sounding surprisingly… human. It doesn’t suit him. “It is not a new fact that I've been a terrible father, but I didn't take you under my wing with any intentions of acting as such in the first place.”
And perhaps that's what struck Rien most deeply. Even if they had acknowledged the relationship between them, it would only be for the greater scheme of things. It was a business first, a contract for mutual victory, but never anything familial.
Mercury would never see Rien as his son, just as Rien could never bring himself to see Mercury as a father figure.
Rien would always be an orphan.
“Maybe it is better this way,” Rien admits, shuffling the cards on the desk. He doesn't lift his eyes even as he feels a pair of grey eyes drill holes into the sides of his head. “I do not intend to persuade you to stay. You are not mine to keep.”
No more words are spoken. Rien doesn't lift his gaze as he says goodbye, and Mercury does not look back once. He leaves, just as quiet and swift as his arrival.
Rien props an elbow on the armrest and rests his head on it. The heavy rain nearly clouds the sight outside the window, but the familiar, blinking orange lights allows him to trace the movements of Mercury's car. His secretary arrives soon after the car disappears out of sight. Vulture looks at him in worry before glancing at the cards lying on the table. "Where should I put them?"
He closes his eyes. "Wherever you want. That game does not have a victor anymore."
Rien thinks he might despise Mercury for doing something he wasn't even obliged to commit to.