Reincarnated Into A Dead Woman's Body In Another World-Chapter 258: Arc 4, Act II, - 103: When Words Speak Louder
Midnight. Back to Division Six, settled back into their tents and dropping off supplies. Another victory and yet a sombre welcome awaited them.
Nods of acknowledgement and awareness of what had occurred; the victor did not triumph flawlessly. Many of their comrades would never be the same; one more elite down and a massive blow to themselves.
No cheers, just silent smiles. After their return, some supper was prepared for them. The seven chatted a little, eating at their own pace.
_
"Here," Hotaru led Jotou by the wrist into a secluded spot—an empty tent. She did so in no hurry, nor in excitement. Leaving the rest behind, the two were granted some privacy.
The blonde beamed, "You alright?" Jotou went into the dark interior alongside her.
Hotaru’s ears flickered and her tail wagged as a grin curled up, "I bring you here all alone and that’s the question you ask?" she cocked a brow.
Jotou’s eyes softened; she chuckled, "If you wanted to do that, you’d be much closer to me, touching my skin, whisking your tail into me and would’ve kissed me anywhere by now.
Plus," Jotou got closer and took Hotaru by the chin gently, "You don’t seem alright."
The brilliant blue pools were barely visible in the little bits of light coming into the tent. They rolled and her ears fell, "Ms Howllett, you’re not a detective."
"I’m aware."
Hotaru stared into the browns of the other’s eyes, like smoky quartz. Her head slanted to the right, "I’m sorry I attacked you. I can’t believe Dread got to me; again..."
Jotou let go of her chin, "You’re scary, you know that?" Jotou turned around and moved her ponytail aside, showing the claw marks against her yellow coat.
"...That’s gonna need repairs," Hotaru observed. "Sorry."
"They were bound to be damaged, just wasn’t expecting it to be from you," Jotou turned back around. "Your spell was powerful enough to scratch it; meaning your affinity was functioning fine.
But you were still in confusion; how’d that happen? What did Dread show you? What were you thinking of?" Jotou placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder.
"I... saw you leaving me," she looked away.
"That adds up with what Dread tried to show me..."
"What did she show you?" her brows creased.
"She tried, she couldn’t; I just got out of it. But she tried to get your insecurities and use them against me somehow. It didn’t work, but I was still worried about you," Jotou replied.
"I clung onto you... I said it couldn’t be real... I clung onto the thought of you, ever since that night you almost died trying to save me, from the threat that you had to save me from again now...
I got really pissed off; I saw all of you leaving me and I clung onto the thought of all of you. It was also the first time I, I... killed someone-"
Jotou pulled the teary-eyed Hotaru into a tight hug. Hotaru tried to squirm, both her arms flailed lightly, "I don’t wanna be alone, I don’t wanna be alone...
Then she showed me my dad again; said I felt like I was free of him and I am, I am," through gritted teeth she whimpered into Jotou’s neck.
"He called me a horrible daughter... And my mom... I don’t know her in the slightest... Dread pulled out some old, vague memory of her calling me a burden...
I hate him! I hate them! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!" Hotaru cried, punching both her fists slowly into Jotou. The blonde merely soothed the back of her head.
She sobbed—sobbed her heart out whilst her body shivered and pulsed at each snivel. Her slamming fists died down, just pressing into Jotou, "I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I shouldn’t be like this right now."
"Shhh," Jotou drifted her hand down her red strands. "It’s okay, stop apologizing. Dread’s gone, we’re not, that’s what matters. The past’s the past, but if we’re gonna go counting;
You’ve saved me and healed me enough times for me to lose count. You’re not solely responsible, we all are. So if you save me, I save you," Jotou parted from Hotaru to stare into her eyes, "I’m perfectly fine with that cycle."
Hotaru stared back before her eyes darted away...
"And besides; why are we keeping count? I don’t save you because you saved me; that seems really shallow. No. I save you for the same reason you’d save me or any one of us."
The words all made sense. Of course Hotaru knew that. The redhead was merely embarrassed it took Jotou saying that to realize. There was no reason to feel bad that Jotou had to save her; she wasn’t some burden...
Jotou’s eyes waned. ’Dread really did a number on her.’ "Anything else you want to vent about?" the blonde smirked.
Hotaru faced Jotou, the tiniest fraction of a smile on the redhead. "I’ll be okay. Thanks," she leaned closer, not enough to close the distance...
Jotou moved her head forward and planted a soft kiss against her lips. A fleeting moment, not even a few seconds long; but it was like time had frozen.
The two parted. "You know," Hotaru’s tail wagged leisurely, "Initially, I was just gonna bring you in here and have some fun to try and forget. But you had to open your mouth."
"Heh~ Well, let’s not ignore issues shall we? I think you need some rest for tonight. If you wanna take a nice spot to stand, I’d be happy to open my mouth again—between your legs of course~"
Hotaru glistened her fangs, "I’d hardly call it rest if you get me worked up~"
Jotou giggled, "You let your mind go blank and I’ll just focus on you till you had enough. Remember, we gotta go back to our actual beds before they find out why we’re missing for so long~"
"Like they couldn’t put it together already."
_
Entering the tent of a dozen or sleeping soldiers, in desert camo, the emblem of Cravolta over his left breast pocket and a red plus symbol—the same plus on a helmet tied under his chin.
Feyan wearily carried a medical case of the same colouring; one in his hand and a larger one on his back. He set the case beside his bed and huffed the other off his shoulders.
The bed creaked as he sat. He took his helmet off and took a glance at it. His usually coifed hair was pressed down like a pancake; perhaps this helmet was a bit goofy.
None of the other medics seemed to be wearing one; then again, they were never really in the fray to need one. With the straps hanging, he set the helmet aside and sighed.
A lot of the injuries he had taken on had disappeared, merely leaving bits of soreness across his form. It certainly helped that he siphoned a lot of the prisoners and had some rejuvenating assistance from Hotaru.
It did not do much for him now. The seventh, maybe eighth yawn escaped since he finished supper. His soul was undoubtedly tired. He stretched his arms and felt up his pockets...
"Hm?" he reached in an pulled out an envelope. "Oh, I forgot," he muttered. He turned the letter and read the name Luciean once more on the back of the envelope.
Taking an unlit lantern, he brought it to a small desk space for the soldiers. "Pff." The flame danced up in the glass—a dim glow onto the paper.
He took a seat on the wooden chair and stared; he stared again at the seal...
...
...
His fingers grazed the edges and gently undid the adhesive till the seal detached.
"Dear brother,
I hope this letter finds you well. For I, nor any of our family truly know. Forgive the means this letter was sent to you; it may seem informal to send something like this to the royal advisor of the princess. However, I am still your brother.
You do not write, you do not call, you no longer visit; we knew of your involvement in the last stand and we heard it as a passing remark rather than from your own words.
I truly do not understand the difficulties you face. I do not know why you distance us so much. Perhaps I should not try to probe you for an answer; but if I do not, I worry how many actually will.
How are you brother? How fares the situation against the regime? How fares the company you keep? What ails you? Are there any successes you wish to convey? Have you eaten well? If there is no emergency, I would urge you to reply something.
As of writing this, we celebrated Chalan’s seventeenth birthday yesterday. It was quite enjoyable, though I believe his eighteenth and twenty-first shall be better.
It is hard to believe you are twenty-one this year; mostly because I have not seen you much this year. You joined the army before, I had little surprise when you joined this battle. I hope you do not plan on making a martyr of yourself.
Lila has been seen missing from the household more and more lately. Do not tell anyone, but I believe she is seeing a woman in secret, away from her diplomatic duties.
I am happy she has found someone, but I fear our parents may not like it if sister is away from her duties for too long. Ever since Kaveeran tied the knot a couple of years ago, mother and father have been itching to marry sister and myself off to someone...
No doubt they are searching for ’perfect’ suitors for us. I do not believe sister or I are particularly interested. Being single at twenty-six does not aid in my case either.
Oh, apologies, I seem to be rambling. Perhaps if we talked more, I could chat about these things instead of trying to fit them into a page, hoping you would read it all.
Mother and father fare well, I am sure they would send you their regards. Only sister knows about this letter I am sending. Regardless, on the behalf of our family, I wish you the very best.
If you are ever caught in a bind, I can come and assist at any point. You need only ask.
-Luciean.
P.S. If you do not mind, do say a hello to Admiral Kaveri for me."
The fire crackled. Every word was written in beautiful cursive on the beige parchment. Feyan’s fingers covered the words to the sides, exhaling while his brows unstiffened.
He glanced to the flames and to the writing utensils scattered at the end of the table. Folding back the paper, his hand reached for a pen and a paper.
He wobbled the sheet and placed it onto a stack of papers. Feyan pouted, his pen hovering over the left corner. It remained there; each second passing by with nothing but the crackle from the lantern and the snores of a few.
...
...
"Dear Luciean,
I hope this letter finds you well. I hope it finds our family well."
...
...
Feyan sighed again, dropping the point of the pen repeatedly against the side of the page. What all did he want to say? Feyan took the paper and crumpled it into a ball.
He hovered his pen above another sheet and took a deep breath,
"Dear brother,
The letter found me well; before I was unwell even. So I hope this letter finds you and our family well without such circumstances later on.
The situation against the Regime has been, debatable. While I can give news that we have defeated two strong foes, it is not without loss.
My friends are fine; at least I hope. Truth be told, I believe a few are not and the rest are well. As of writing this, it is midnight; the sixteenth going on to the seventeenth. The last stand has lasted a week so far.
We have just defeated an elite soldier known as the Psyching Dread; apparently, also one of the main perpetrators of the Velatos Case in Kria. Her speciality was bringing out our fears and negative thoughts to amplify them.
We are exhausted, sore and do not have the energy to do much at the moment. Do not worry of my diet, the princess had made sure there are adequate meals for all the soldiers. As for what ails me... I suppose a reason is in order as to why I have not written to home.
I will not lie, I probably would not have replied if you sent this letter through normal means. However, I am replying because of the circumstances surrounding the foe we just fought.
To be completely honest, I thought myself to be invisible in our family. That may explain why I joined the army in the first place; to have something of my own.
To be noticed for being a good healer; or a great martyr. I do not believe I will stray away from my path of altruism so readily, even now.
The path I took made me find the current princess, so I do not believe my path to be wrong. My intentions however, are maybe less than heroic...
I apologize for not responding. And I thank you for reaching out. I have thrown aside your concern and care, in a belief that I was inconspicuous.
I too am not fond of what our parents have in store for us. An arranged marriage with some noble they find might not best suit us. Kavee gave our parents a tad too many expectations by marrying that nobleman from Northern Cravolta.
Although, he escaped a few responsibilities by choosing to live with his husband instead of in Tel Karbalad. With you being the firstborn, I suppose you have no chance of escaping the responsibilities of father’s mantle."
Feyan chuckled to himself as he wrote. He paused, acknowledging the smile he had. It turned bittersweet as he continued to write, "I recall receiving letters like these when I first enlisted.
They only got less frequent once I became my lady’s royal advisor. I know now that I was not forgotten. And I should perhaps write home more often.
I realized something when the Psyching Dread preyed on my mind and played on my fears; more so, when I was woken up from those horrible thoughts so easily.
Perhaps I may just have this overwhelming anxiety. Truth be told, I do not believe Dread had much trauma or negative thoughts to hold onto in my mind.
Which aided in my ability to escape her influence of course, but it made me realize how many things I have to truly worry about; and how lucky I am to lead a life without too many real worries.
It may sound odd to say—’I do not have many problems in my life’—given the circumstances and the company I am with. However, that is the simple truth. I ought to be more confident than timid and nervous. Perhaps I will find my problems when I do.
I only jest. I am fortunate to say the least and I should consider taking on the burdens of others. Or rather, share them. What Dread did to our allies and the soldiers is truly despicable.
We still managed to defeat her and we spent the last few hours attempting to recuperate from an ambush against a division, and to recover the minds of several delirious soldiers. I came to such a conclusion then.
I am surprised you did not join the battle in the first place brother. The offer is considered, but you need not to. Not that any help would not be nice, but I am feeling rather, hopeful of our outcome.
Some days I miss complaining when you and sister would do something reckless whilst dragging me into it. It is a similar feeling in the company I keep in all honesty.
Also," Feyan’s pen paused... He contemplated for a second and decided to tell, "I think I am in love; and it has not gone unreciprocated.
Only time will tell where it leads. However, like other matters, I cannot help but feel hopeful as well. That is all I have to say for now; if there is anything else, I will write home promptly.
As for the admiral, if you can send this letter to me, I think you can say more than a hello to her yourself." Feyan grinned as he wrote, "Be confident with her Luciean, I am sure she would appreciate it as well. Sincerely, Feyan."
Feyan folded the paper neatly and searched for an envelope... "P.S. There are no envelopes; the hour is too late and I am too tired to go searching for one." He put it in the envelope Luciean sent and closed the seal.
_
She stood to the side of the tent, feeling the cold air against her face. Something rolled and shifted in the palm of her hand before she closed her fingers.
The brunette threw the thing in her palm forward. Her eyes followed the trajectory and she reached her hand out. Purplish-black shadows formed from the tips of Fumeko’s fingers into her palm.
The shadows warped the flung item into her palm. Fumeko smirked, opening her palm to see a purplish-bronze metal marble made of several rings.
With a thumb, she flicked it into the air. She pursed her lips and held her hands together to catch the marble in between her palms.
The marble had gathered the momentum and she could feel it start to spin in her hands. She leaned closer and smiled to the toy-
"Detective Namora."
"Huh!? Who’s you!?" Fumeko hid her hands behind her back.
Feyan’s brows knitted, "I was searching for you... But what are you doing outside at this hour?"
"I don’t know. What’s with the questions Arty?" she glared.
"I, asked one question- You know what? I will forget you were here, I just have a favour to request. Could you send this to my brother?" Feyan handed the loosely sealed envelope.
Fumeko furrowed her brows and took the letter, "You mean Luciean?"
"Yes. If you are tired, tomorrow will be fine-"
"I’m fantastic I’ll have you know. I’m just waiting for a certain paranoiac to return... and a wolf-girl..." her eyes glazed over. "Whatever, sure."
Fumeko kept her eyes wide open and held the envelope in her grasp, "Delivery Pocket," shadows escaped from the palm and wrapped tightly around the envelope. "Fwoosh!"
"Pleh, the hell..." Fumeko remarked as the letter disappeared, wincing an eye. "Ah... Ugh..."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, those are the sounds of a person who’s alright," she held the side of the tent... "Okay, that took a LOT out of me... The letter should’ve reached him."
"Oh, well... Thank you and I apologize-"
"Don’t forget my generosity, but forget I was here and forget that I expended all my magic," her reply led into a big, gaping yawn. "I’m going to bed; night."
"Goodnight Detective Namora..." Feyan eyed her in concern... Though, he was relieved with the thought that the letter had reached his brother at the very least.
