8. underground (behind every light, shadows)

Takara meets a girl with hair as white as snow, and a community under the ground that lives in the shadows.

Titus and Cross are captured, but escape comes easy. Too easy.

When Takara woke up, it was to the gentle thrumming of the rain and the soft humming of a girl beside him. 

He got up with a start, drenched in not water, but his own sweat.

He rubbed circles at his temple, catching his breath and trying to ease the headache rising. Then he took in the situation. He felt like he was forgetting something...

"Good morning."

He jolted to attention, jerking away from the girl that had been sitting on a chair beside the bed.

She didn't look that much older than Cross, and she had a head of pure white hair, hanging just above her shoulders. That was a very, very rare hair color now... but twenty years ago, a certain island was teeming with white-haired individuals.

Shikke Island.

Captain was in her lap, purring softly as the girl rubbed its back gently.

That's when Takara remembered, and quickly drew the covers away from him.

His metal arms were still scraped, along with a few joints-- but nothing was out of place. The deep, running gash at his side was gone.

Completely gone, though he could vividly remember the impact and the agony.

"What the..." he touched it lightly. It felt sort of raw, like new skin. "What the hell...?"

The girl smiled.

She was wearing dark blue, oriental clothing-- like a ninja.

That's right... Shikke was an offshoot of the country of Kiku, wasn't it?

"I see... we ended up in Shikke Island," he understood immediately. He tightened his fists, "I'm really grateful for your help."

The girl waved at him dismissively, "please, it's fine," she assured him, "I couldn't leave you out there when you were bleeding to death."

But how did she deal with his injury? This level of recovery...

"How long have I been asleep?" Takara asks. There were no windows in this room, but he could hear the rain. This is bad. If this really was Shikke Island, they have to get out of here quickly.

Shikke was not a friendly island. The bartender in Mug Island even warned him about this, and goddamn, he ended up here after all. He wondered if Titus and Cross were alright.

"For about two hours," the girl informed him. She stood up and deposited the bear in the man's hands. "You should leave the island as soon as you can. If the citizens on the mainland find you here, you will not be able to leave alive."

Takara was handed his coat, then a raincoat.

"Fortunately, it seems there are intruders in the Hurricane Hole, so there are less guards here," the girl said, and Takara's eyes widened in alarm. "We can lend you a boat. The rain hasn't quelled much, but you should be able to escape to Toroa, just a little northwest of here..."

"We can't!" Takara interrupted her.

The girl sighed.

"Those intruders on the other side of the island are probably my comrades," Takara insisted. "I need to meet up with them."

He stood up, but the girl put a hand before him, stopping his advance.

"You may not," she said, firm. "The Yuzengumi do not tolerate intruders. If you do not wish to die with your other friends, I suggest you treasure your own lives and leave right now."

Takara's fist tightened. "I regret to say this after you saved my life, but I cannot abandon my comrades like this. Let me through."

"No, I will not," and the girl flexed her fingers.

White thread spilled from her palm, thick and viscous-- and the strings pooled behind her, splashing forth against wall and shelf and table, forming a gigantic spider web to seal off the only way out of the room.

Well fuck. What the fuck is that? A Devil's Fruit?

"If you insist on leaving to your death, I believe it is logical I stop you," the girl said, "I am a Healer. I did not save you for you to go and kill yourself here."

Takara tutted.

Holding the bear close to his chest, his eyes darted around. There were no windows here, and the walls were made of stone. Wherever he was... he wouldn't be able to run easily.

This wasn't a prison cell. There was a nice bed, a messy closet, and a myriad of pillows and hammocks and fresh tea on the desk. Evidently, people have lived here.

And yet, there were no windows in this room.

"Where am I?" Takara asked instead. "If my presence here is such a nuisance... why haven't you handed me in yet?"

The girl set a hand on her hip, stepping slightly forward.

"We would gladly hand you over if we could..." she said, "but as you know, we had a civil war twenty years ago. This is the base of the citizens left over from then. We're the Rebel Army."

-

Titus and Cross were brought before an elderly man, pushed onto their knees on dojo wooden flooring.

"So these two are the intruders," the gray-haired man says. He wore long traditional garb, complete with a haori and an air of seniority. He held a long wooden walking stick, resting his hands upon them.

"Hey, Mister!" Cross greeted with all the brim and cheer unbefitting of this solemn atmosphere. "I'm Cross!" then he turns to Titus, struck with a question, "is this a Nice to Meet You or Prepare to Die?"

Titus was physically hurting from second-hand-embarrassment.

"Just... shut up, Cross," he managed.

Their hands were bound in tight rope behind them, arms folded at their elbows. It wouldn't be easy to get out.

Titus looked up. This place was the city hall, probably. Not the royal palace or anything... there were artistic paintings on the wall, ancient signatures, and even carefully maintained pottery.

From his treasure-hunting experience, Titus knew that those things had sacred historical value. Not much worth in gold, but more precious than the greatest treasures in a museum. In the right auctions, they could earn you a fortune.

If they were using this place as an interrogation room, maybe they didn't care if those things were damaged? That made no sense.

"I am Yuzen, the current ruler of this island," the old man introduced himself, apprehensively. "State your business on this island."

"Like I said, we were just seeking refuge from the storm--"

Titus was interrupted by a sharp sword knocking his side. He was shoved to the ground, and a sword planted by his head.

"Who sent you?" Elder Yuzen rephrased.

God, they were listening to absolutely no reason.

"This is a misunderstanding," Titus said, his patience waning just so slightly, "we were just desperate to leave the storm. We had no idea this was Shikke Island..."

A foot came down on his face, grinding to the ground sharply. At the same time, a blade was thrown forward, leaving a deep cut at Titus' shoulder.

He hissed in pain.

Titus glared up at the assailant. The purple-haired ninja grinded his teeth against a silver steel pick, rolling it against his tongue with a snarl.

"The facts this time?" he suggested.

Titus gritted his teeth, trying not to get angry.

"There is nothing else I can say," Titus said. He looked up-- and Cross was staring blankly at him, not an ounce of tension in his limbs.

Strange. Titus expected him to blow up already-- maybe Titus meant less to him than he thought.

Cross isn't moving at all. And those aren't seastone... Cross should be able to get out immediately and run (tag) off, untraceable in seconds. But he didn't.

Why?

"You have golden hair," Elder Yuzen observed, "and that boy has black hair. Both startlingly common colours, so I suspect either one of you is a spy, or both of you are."

What does hair colour have to do with this...

Come to think of it, everyone here has red or blue hair... Titus groaned. That's right. The Shikke used to boast of their unique black and white palettes.

White was sacred, and Black was balance. The civil war happened to decide which colour deserved to rule the country.

But all these people had neither black or white hair.

(Except the first boy that greeted them in the Hurricane Hole.)

Does that mean these people aren't the Shikke of twenty years ago? Something doesn't line up. They're expecting to be attacked? Sure, tensions are high during wartimes, but this is just ridiculous.

"We searched the ship and seized the treasure," a burgundy-haired boy came in with a report. "There's nothing else in their ship that's indicative of their affiliation with Kiku, but there is a suspicious travelogue."

Titus jerked up, "don't touch that!"

That was the wrong reaction. A glimmer of interest and realization passed through their eyes, and Elder Yuzen turned to the newcomer.

"Ibuki, bring it to the scholars. We'll decode it soon."

Titus swore in his head. These absolute asshats are just filling in the details of whatever the hell they want to believe! What's wrong with not wanting a bunch of old fools to look at his private jottings?

"Bring these two to the gallows," he ordered.

There's surprisingly little resistance from Cross, and they're thrown behind bars, arms bound and lock clasped tight against steel.

Titus breathes out another low swear as they march off, leaving them to the empty, lamp-lit hallways of jail.

Titus inspected the still-bleeding wound at his shoulder, decided he wouldn't bleed to death from it, and turned to Cross.

The kid had shifted to cross his legs over each other, sitting comfortably in the darkness, like he was waiting for instructions.

"We need to get out and find Takara and leave," Titus muttered. "Cross?"

Cross finally lifted his head, straightening to attention.

"Can you use your powers to get yourself out of the cell?" Titus asked.

Cross shook his head. "I didn't tag anywhere, so I can't tag out," he explained.

Titus raised an eyebrow. "Then why didn't you tag somewhere earlier while we were captured?"

Cross blinked up at him, "Takara said I can't use my powers without his permission."

Titus all but fell forward with exasperation. Are you kidding me? This situation and the first thing on the kid's mind is the fact that he hasn't asked for permission yet??

"Look, Takara might be dead for all we know. We need to get out and regroup, okay?" Titus tried to reason. "I'm sure Takara wouldn't mind you breaking it just this once."

Cross pouted, "I can't! It was a promise!" he whined, "promises have to be kept even when the other person can't see it! Because it's important!"

Titus had no idea why the kid was being so defensive over something so little.

He groaned.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he placated with a sigh. "Then do whatever you want, can you get us out of this cell?"

The next thing Titus knew, he heard sharp cracks, and Cross had shattered the wooden shackles on his wrists. Titus' jaw dropped.

His light blue hoodie had been taken out when they were strip-searched, so Cross was left in his tank top and shorts. Titus had also lost his weapons when they pried off his coat and left him in a miserably drenched button-up and pants.

Yet, somehow, Cross reached into his hair and retrieved his triangular blades, connected by red wires. He strapped the spindle back on his elbows, wrapping them around his forearm.

"What the fuck?" Titus asked.

Cross stared back, confused, "what's wrong?"

"Uh no, nothing," he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He raised his still-bound arms, "break these for me, please."

-

Takara was brought further underground, where he met with a crowd of people, all wearing oriental clothing.

Everyone had black hair except the Healer girl.

"Twenty years ago, a civil war happened within the Abenogumi," the girl explained. "Well, no one can clearly remember who won, because the Yuzengumi came right in and took over our land while everything was going on."

They were all young. Around their early to late twenties, at best.

"The rebel army," Takara considered that. "So you're what's left of the Abenogumi?" It made sense.

Living underground and in hiding, away from the cretins that took over the mainland. This creates social unrest, which is why Shikke is still not open to outsiders coming in or leaving.

They're twenty years in the cores of a double-layered war that just can't end until one side is completely decimated. God, they chose a shitty island to drift to.

"I am the current leader of the rebel army," the girl said, "please call me Visul."

She didn't particularly look strong.

She was the youngest person in the room, but the mere fact that she had pure white hair made her the leader of the pack.

She was flanked on each side by stern-looking men with black hair, both holding swords at their hips in case Takara tried anything.

Visul caught his gaze and put a hand on the two beside her. "These two are Yukimatsu," she gestured to the left, "and Hirotsugu. They're Commanders. Don't worry, they don't bite."

Well, they certainly are trying their best to look like they do.

Wisely, Takara stayed still and looked as harmless as he could with a pair of metal arms and a sleeping bear cub in his arms.

"I am Takara," he gulped. "Nice to meet you, I hope."

"It'll be nice if you stay down here and don't move," Yukimatsu growled at him, bristling as he took one angry step forward. "Of all the times you guys could choose to get lost in sea, you decide now? I swear if I weren't--"

Yukimatsu is dragged back by the collar. Hirotsugu sat him down with one chiding glare, "calm down already, Yuki. The storm is always nasty anyways."

"Oh, you're called Yuki?" Takara decided to test his luck, "that's cute, even though you look so constipated. Can I call you Yuki?"

"NO!" the boy snapped, then he swirled on his pal, "Hiro, he's gonna ruin everything! We spent years planning this and--"

"Ooh!" Takara interrupted, "you're Hiro? That's such a cool name. Hey, Hiro, nice to meet you," he smiled. Gesturing at the bear in his arms, "this is Captain. We named him Captain because he wanted to be called something cool."

"Really? That's cute," Hiro steps forward, right past the feral child Yuki, with all the air of friendliness, "y'know, Takara, I think you and I will absolutely get along. Let's talk over there, shall we?"

"Oh, absolutely," Takara followed him to a table, where they sat down on opposing sides, a cup of tea in each of their hands.

Yuki snapped. "HEY! Hiro! Don't get chummy with the intruder!!"

Just then, the bear woke up.

"Captain!" Takara rubbed his face gently, "good morning, you stupid bear. Please stay in the cabin when there's a storm out from now on. If you do it again you're going into stew, got it? I'll stew the heck out of you and make your skin a rug."

The bear made a grunt of affirmation, shivers running down his spine. He absolutely did not want to go on a freedom flyaway ever again.

Then Captain looked around, confused. He made a questioning rawr at Takara.

"Hm? Ah," he put the bear on the table, "we got separated from the others. This is Hiro. Say hi."

And Captain said hi, raising a paw with a cheerfully polite, "rawr!"

Immediately, the room converged on them.

"He's so cute!!"

"Is his name Captain?"

"Fluffy!"

"How old is he?"

Immediately, there's a fan club. A bunch of the other rebellion members crouch around them, getting to know the newcomers like this was the time or opportunity to make friends or something.

Yuki was right about to blow up there.

Visul giggled at the sight.

"This isn't the time to laugh, Leader," Yuki chided her, "we need to go plan our next course of action, you know that, right?"

Visul smiled. "I know, Yuki," she said, turning to the crowd. "But it's been awhile since we were this lively. Let them enjoy this."

Yuki pursed his lips. She was right, so he just sighed and watched the crowd pass the bear around in adoration.

"At least for now, that man has to stay here," Visul told him.

Her hands tightened on the table, and she looked away.

"The Yuzengumi are at an all-time alert due to their current group of intruders, so we shouldn't make any careless moves. But if this man goes and complicates things, we won't be able to go and save Nozomu," she said, under her breath, "gather the others. Hiro will make sure he stays."

And she walked away towards a room further out back, casually walking to not attract attention from the fun-loving group in the centre of the room.

Takara may not have a good nose, but he certainly has good ears.

Hiro kept him occupied with nonsense talk, and everyone seemed like an expert at making him stay in his seat.

Takara was quite impressed. So impressed, he decided to stay there.

If they were right about this, then going out now would be an ill decision for the situation. Well, Cross and Titus probably won't die if he left them outside.

But as he looked around, he felt old.

"Hey, Hiro..." he leaned forward, "how old are you?"

Hiro chuckled, "I'm twenty-five," he said. "Or it was, last time I checked. It is, right?" he turned to the girl beside him, who giggled a little. "I don't know, I just know I'm the oldest here and I can't stop getting older! Oh man, am I gonna get gray hairs?"

The crowd chuckled at that, some people teasingly calling him an old man, and someone else reminding him that Abeno recessive genes mean his hair stays black for life-- Takara laughed along, but the humour was gone.

He's twenty-five. Twenty-five and that's not that much younger than Takara himself. He's a kid. He's just a fucking kid. And yet-- yet he was here, at the core of a revolution.

Everyone here is younger than him?

That meant that all of them-- all of them were part of the generation that didn't start, but merely inherited the war.

They shouldn't have the reason to continue it.

And yet...

"Why do you fight?" he asked, and the room went silent.

All eyes on Takara were stern and scrutinizing, and it was now evident that all the previous cheer was just a carefully crafted front.

Hiro looked at him, and that smile was tinged with determination.

"It's because we have nothing else."

There were young people in the room, but there was not a single child in their midst.