Chapter Text
Initially he makes sure everything is going fine with Slaine because it is, in a way, his duty, since he was the one who put him in prison to begin with. He is not heartless, despite what he knows many think of him.
And then he reveals to the boy why he was spared.
His eyes…
Slaine’s reaction… the desperation and the hope and the sadness as he cried and lost control in a way no cold evil dictator could possibly pull off…
It gives rise to the curiosity Inaho had regarding the one named Slaine Troyard ever since he had been nearly killed by him, and then had watched him ascend in the martian hierarchy.
Who was this boy, truly? What was his real motivation?
The feeling of wanting to know is almost a need.
*
“Why?”
Although hearing Slaine speak is surprising given his usual silence, Inaho avoids letting the question distract him from the game, and first makes his move before thinking it over. “Hm?”
“Why are you doing this?” Slaine finally says, only after moving his own piece.
It disappoints Inaho: he was hoping for something more. “I’ve told you, Asse—”
“I don’t mean that ,” Slaine snaps, and immediately Inaho’s attention goes from the chess board to his face. Not out of fear; but out of interest in his expression. “Why are you here? Why do you come again and again? I heard from the guards, I’m supposed to be dead. I am accused of trying to kill her ,” he spats bitterly, mouth lines angry, but Inaho can see the sorrow in his eyes. “If she’s fine with that, I doubt she cares if I have company.”
Inaho makes sure his expression reveals nothing. That had been an issue for him too.
She had wanted him saved and yet… was willing to ruin his image for the sake of letting the true culprits escape without more bloodshed?
It had made him question just how much power Asseylum truly held now, or how wise it had been to leave her in command.
It had been disappointing, to say the least.
He shrugs. “You are the only one foolish enough to still play chess with me.” he lies, because he doesn’t feel like voicing the real answer, for some reason.
Or maybe he doesn’t want to accept the answer he has.
There had been something about his eyes…
He expects Slaine to be angry at the jab, but instead the boy doesn’t react. “…I see,” he says simply.
It pushes Inaho to add: “…And I feel it’s my duty, since I’m the reason you’re here.”
“Asseylum is the reason I’m here, as you yourself have said. You can stop this, she doesn’t want this.”
“…You sound angry, what reason did you expect?”
Slaine blinks, looking confused, “I… had nothing in mind, I was hoping for something less ridiculous, however.” His face deadens again, and he looks to the board. “If it makes your presence lessen then—”
“You’ve tried not playing before, you know it’s futile.”
“Isn’t playing futile as well? You always win.”
“It’s a sufficient pastime.”
“…I quit.”
“You still have twenty moves left.”
“It’s pointless to struggle when losing is clear. I’m tired. I quit. You win. You always win everything.”
Inaho sees he won’t manage to push Slaine into anything more today and silently stands up and leaves.
*
He receives the silent treatment for the next few visits.
*
“Are you sure, Inaho Kaizuka? For your assistance in the war we are willing to reward you with—”
“It’s fine. I want this.”
“…Very well. We’ve also heard you’ve been… visiting a dead man quite often?”
“I captured him, it is my responsibility to ensure he remains where he is.”
It’s a lie. It shouldn’t be.
“…A noble cause. Very well, do as you wish.”
*
“Aren’t you angry with me?”
“Why should I be?” Inaho says carefully, he can tell Slaine is in one of his more destructive moods.
“Ah… I suppose that’s the real reason you still do this, to see how I spend my life, paying for my crimes?”
“No. You committed many crimes, but if punishment is to be dealt, you should not have been the only one.”
“So you pity my situation? Or do you feel guilty over helping it?”
“If I felt one of those, or both, would that trouble you?”
“I don’t want to be pitied, and don’t expect me to help lessen your guilt.”
“Pity would mean acknowledgement that your present situation is beyond what you deserved, I don’t understand why you would refuse it.”
“…If nothing else, I have my pride, and I realize I am getting my just deserves.”
“If this is justice, a trial should have occurred.”
“No trial is needed when my sins are this clear.”
“Yet you are persecuted for something you did not commit. Yet others with sins just as clear remain free and more than just pardoned; sins forgotten. And—”
“ Enough! ” Slaine snaps suddenly, a desperate light in his eyes. “You say you aren’t here to hear me suffer, yet insist on saying I should not be suffering this punishment. Why would you do this? I have nothing to live for. Nothing, even, to do but rot away in secrecy for the rest of my life under the guise of mercy.” He laughs madly. “I am so lost even her kindness scorches me. And you want to tell me I do not deserve this pain? Let me have that at least you sick bastard! ”
He throws the chessboard off the table but does nothing else; hiding his head in his arms and sobbing.
Inaho stares at his shaking frame and feels uncertain about how to proceed; he was never one for giving comfort, and he’s not sure Slaine wants that from him, anyway.
He chooses to quietly leave.
It is only much later that he realizes that, for one moment, Slaine had nearly criticized Asseylum.
*
His next visit is sooner than usual; to show Slaine he doesn’t plan on leaving.
*
“Another reason was learning more about you.” Finally, Inaho admits.
He ignores the feeling that his wording somehow plays it down.
“What?”
“Another reason for my deciding to come here. Learning more. You’re the man who shot me, who nearly managed to win Earth yet I know little.”
“Ah. There you go, was it so hard to admit you just want to examine a specimen at your disposal?”
Inaho can’t decipher it, but Slaine’s tone is strange.
“I never meant to say that I saw you as less than human. Humans being curious about other humans is normal.”
“There is a place where humans can go to observe and maybe interact with dangerous things that are locked away. It’s called a zoo. Like it or not, I am your animal, available for show. But don’t expect to receive your money’s worth anytime soon; I have nothing else to do.”
“Why must you twist everything?”
“I’m a twisted person. I’m evil; I even plotted to assassinate the Princess, haven’t you heard? There is nothing more than this ugliness to see. The faster you understand, the faster you can leave and go hunt for another circus attraction.”
“I disagree with this assessment.”
Slaine says nothing else; he deflates with a tired sigh and quietly proceeds to move his pieces until it’s time for the checkmate.
*
Slaine, Inaho decides, is like the moon. He has periods where he wanes; a shadow of what was once a formidable boy, tired and dead in his soul. But then he changes, grows and becomes full; he’s wild, angry, snappish and alive.
Inaho is interested in those moods, like he’s interested in everything else about Slaine Troyard.
*
“Nao… when will this end?”
“What?”
“It's been months. You keep refusing good assignments if they’ll put you away from him for too long. Hasn’t it been enough? Haven’t you studied him as much as you could? Aren’t you getting tired of this?”
“Not at all, sister.”
Quite the opposite, in fact.
*
Visits become more frequent.
What was monthly turns into every two weeks.
*
He is invited to a meeting of the Deucalion with the Princess.
He declines; his friends he sees when he wishes. He has nothing to say to Asseylum.
It's been almost a year and she hasn’t visited Slaine, he notes.
*
It’s summer and there’s a heat wave.
It’s hot, too hot for going outside. Too hot for moving.
Inaho wonders how Slaine is dealing with it; he doesn’t recall his cell having air-conditioning.
He finds the guards all cooped up in the one room with aircon; none of them bothered to check the cell.
He assures them they can remain as they were —and after all this time, they know him well enough to trust him— and rushes to the cell.
Slaine is a heaving, barely conscious, sweating mess on the floor.
Inaho has a rare moment of swearing out loud before trying to get the boy up. Slaine looks at him with eyes too unfocused and allows himself to be half dragged, half carried out of the cell and into the bathroom adjacent to it.
It makes Inaho realize that every time Slaine must have had to ask permission and be followed to use it. Really, was he spared no shame?
No time to think of that now, however; he half carries Slaine’s body over the bathtub and unceremoniously dumps him on the floor.
He hastily and clumsily removes his trousers and underwear without protest, but when he tries to remove the shirt Slaine suddenly composes himself enough to try and fight him.
Inaho is nonplussed the shirt would be an issue as Slaine feebly tries to push him away.
“No, please no—” he begs weakly.
There is something very horrible about ripping off the clothes of someone very, very desperately against that, but as sick as it makes him, Inaho proceeds anyway, since he isn’t sure how many changes of clothes Slaine has a right to, and doesn’t want him losing them.
It’s a struggle, but he manages to get the shirt away from Slaine—
—and it’s obvious what Slaine has a problem with.
The scars.
Slaine makes sure to hide his back from him, but Inaho had a momentary peek of it before he could, and the arms wrapping protectively over his chest don’t hide the few he has there, too.
One thing at a time , Inaho tells himself and swallows the bile he could feel coming up his throat. He stands up over the miserable crouching form that is a scared and half-fainted Slaine and turns on the cold shower water.
He gets drenched, but so does Slaine and that’s all that matters.
Body rapidly cooling down, Slaine recovers enough that he stands up.
Inaho doesn’t retreat and they stare at each other; bodies close enough Inaho can feel Slaine’s ragged breath on his face.
“…I’m fine now,” Slaine eventually says, wrenching his gaze away. He remains still.
“Turn the water off then,” Inaho points out.
“You turned it on, do it yourself,” Slaine replies.
Inaho frowns; wondering just what was the other’s objective with this childish petulance.
It dawns on him that for Slaine to turn the water off he’d have to turn his back to Inaho.
He reaches out once again, and has to bump lightly into Slaine to reach the faucet. Their height difference makes it so Inaho’s head momentarily rests on Slaine’s shoulder.
Despite the blond feeling like a furnace, Inaho is surprised to realize he’s shivering.
The water is turned off and he backs away and out of the bathtub, grabs the only towel and hands it to Slaine before turning away.
“You are seriously turning your back to me when we’re alone. Really?”
“I don’t think you’ll do anything. And I want to give you some form of privacy.”
Slaine’s answering laughter is bitter. “Privacy? I haven’t had that in ages, Inaho Kaizuka.”
Inaho has no answer to that, so remains silent.
“…Are you really not going to turn around?”
“For as long as it needs.”
“…What if I turn the water back on and decide I might as well shower?”
It’s clear he’s trying to pull off a mocking tone, but Inaho thinks he can almost hear the small slivers of hope underneath. His throat is suddenly dry.
“I will not look for as long as it takes.” The words come out slightly hoarse. “I can also leave and wait by the door—”
“That’s too much freedom and you know it,” Slaine replies, and throws the towel over Inaho’s head. As he removes it, he hears the shower being turned back on.
“Aren’t you going to ask? I thought you would,” Slaine eventually says.
There are many things Inaho wants to ask, he’s not sure which one Slaine is referring to. “About?”
“My scars.”
“…You didn’t even want me seeing them, I didn’t think you’d be willing to talk either.”
“It’s always checkmate with you, isn’t it?”
I wouldn’t have you end this way if I could , he thought, but knew better than voicing it.
Slaine finishes too quickly, and it dawns on Inaho he didn’t see any shampoo.
“Don’t they give you something for your hair?” he inquires before he can stop himself.
Behind him, Slaine chortles. “For fuck’s sake, what do you think this is, a luxury hotel?”
Inaho’s mouth goes to justify himself before his brain can stop it. “Your hair looks well kept, so I wondered—”
“Oh? Thank goodness at least one part of me looks well kept.” The sarcasm drips of his tone as much as Inaho’s soggy clothes are dripping water.
“Don’t twist them, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, I see you didn’t mean anything more than that. For someone supposedly so analytical you do and say pretty much what you feel like, don’t you?”
“You are the first person to say that.” And he isn’t wrong, though it surprises Inaho he even paid enough attention to see it, given his old friends and sister hadn’t realized it yet.
“It’s not hard to see, when you keep coming here despite there being nothing to gain from figuring me out. There’s nothing even to figure out. You’re bored so you get yourself some entertainment, rational or no.”
“This again… you are not an animal to me.”
“You sure? You manhandled me like an animal a few minutes ago.”
In disbelief, Inaho nearly breaks his promise and looks back, but manages to stop himself and continues staring straight ahead.
“If you know of any other way I could have done it, please teach it to me.”
“…You know.” There is the sound of the towel being used. “That was the part where you point out you just saved my life and then tried to give me some privacy to show me how I’m wrong.”
“So you do want to be proven wrong?”
“No,” Slaine says hastily. “I just expected you to try.”
“I didn’t do those to gain anything, so I refuse to use them as ammunition.”
“…”
The towel is again thrown at him.
“Dry yourself, I don’t want you messing up the floor when you leave; I might slip on it later.”
Obediently, he does, and notices from the corner of his eyes Slaine moving forward to grab his clothes off the ground.
“Dying from the heat… it would have been painful,” Slaine says quietly. “I lost my consciousness so slowly, and lethargy settled in so I couldn’t really move, and the heat was suffocating… That said, I will never thank you for this.”
“I understand.”
“ I doubt it. ”
Slaine’s tone clearly indicates Inaho should not try to argue, so he changes topics.
“I will speak to the warden and guards about at least turning their backs when you—” He motions to the bathroom.
Slaine snorts. “They fear and distrust me. They would never risk it.” As if to show him something, he jabs a finger at Inaho’s back.
“Then… if you wish… I can make it so you can sometimes shower with me as your guard.”
Slaine grabs his shoulder in a vice grip and spins him around to face him. He looks speechless.
“Are you… are you nuts ? What do you even think this will accomplish? My modesty is long gone you fucking idiot, and privacy isn’t coming back just because once or twice someone isn’t staring !”
Staring, he says… Do they stare at him?
“Nevertheless, would you like that arrangement?”
Slaine groans. “ Why are you doing this? Are you that desperate that you’re willing to do this to try and hear something from me?”
“…I won’t ask any questions.”
“You bastard . You lock me up in solitary confinement for life and then think being nice once or twice for small favors will mollify me? I’ve made that mistake before, I’m not doing it again and certainly not with you!”
Who treated you badly but nonetheless you obliged them?
“If I hadn’t sent you to prison, someone else would have. Had I let you go, depending on who eventually found you, your fate might have been worse. And I don’t mean death. I was pressed for time, tired, and had a very dangerous person on my hands. I did what I could and if that wasn’t the best course of action… you must realize I don’t have the power to undo it.”
“Would you really, if you could?” Slaine calmed down suddenly, staring at him intently. “It’s easy to say something pretty like you’d free me when you know you can’t. Would you really risk it and do it if you had the power? No, don’t bother answering me. You are too caught up in your pity to honestly think on it right now.”
“Pity or guilt or curiosity or even basic humanity,” Inaho raises his voice, upset. “In the end, does it matter why I’m doing something? Even if it’s a small thing, isn’t it better than nothing?”
“It does matter!”
Before Inaho can demand an explanation, the door bursts open.
The guards, having noticed Inaho was absent too long, had come after them and panicked when they found an empty cell.
Everything after is unimportant, in Inaho’s mind. He gets asked questions, he makes sure it’s clear Slaine was not at fault nor had done any wrong, is brought clean clothes, and then taken to his very worried sister.
“Inaho…” She looks at his state, but something about his expression has her not saying anything else.
He is thankful: his mind is spinning too much for any more conversations.
Those scars.
But more than that…
“Would you free me, if you could?”
The question had bothered him because he found he couldn’t be certain of the answer; he shouldn’t want to truly free Slaine; it was one thing to wish he had more comfort, had been given a fair trial, and quite another to think he should walk free.
Yet he could not say for certain he wouldn’t, if he could.