-
.
Che lui a Lance avessero gusti differenti, era assodato.
A partire dal fatto che Lance fosse il più etero degli etero e invece Shiro fosse il gay™. Ma la cosa spaziava dalla musica, alla cucina, e persino a cose basilari come i film e la letteratura. Lance trovava noioso (noioso!) il Signore degli Anelli, ma parlava benissimo di quella schifezza che era il film, mentre Shiro non riusciva proprio a capire la sua passione per il western o per i film alla Fast & Furious.
Ciò, per fortuna di tutto il team, non impediva a nessuno di loro due di rimanere amici e di andare d’accordo, per cui, in fin dei conti, Shiro lasciava perdere l’argomento con un’alzata di spalle e un’occhiata di approvazione da parte di Keith, che era sempre lì pronto a sostenerlo.
Ovviamente, Shiro immaginava il momento in cui una situazione del genere avrebbe potuto portare qualche conflitto, e nel momento in cui Lance propose, in una serata di relax, di giocare a “obbligo o verità” Shiro già sapeva che molte cose sarebbero potute andare storte. Ma Lance aveva insistito e Allura e Coran si erano detti curiosi di provare un “tipico gioco terrestre” e così, accettò.
Tra un obbligo e una mezza verità, arrivò il turno di Lance, che si guardò intorno con lo sguardo di chi sa che sta per fare qualcosa che non dovrebbe fare, ma decide di farla ugualmente perché non ha alcun riguardo delle conseguenze.
“Shiro. Obbligo o verità.”
“Obbligo.”
Shiro sapeva bene che sarebbe stato meglio scegliere verità, che il rischio che Lance proponesse qualcosa di non consono fosse estremamente altro, ma la parte competitiva di Shiro aveva avuto il sopravvento e quindi non c’era stato nulla da fare, aveva detto proprio obbligo.
“Allora ti obbligo a baciare l’uomo più brutto della stanza!”
Shiro lo guardò perplesso, e così fecero tutti gli altri, increduli.
“Non lo so, Lance,” disse. “Mi sembra un pochino offensivo.”
“Non è offensivo, è oggettivo. Mica tutti possono essere belli quanto me.”
“Eh, ma se l’altra persona non volesse?” Shiro chiese ancora.
“Be’, può rifiutarsi, ma sarebbe brutto mentre stiamo giocando.”
“E va bene…”
Al fianco di Shiro, Keith fece una smorfia. Shiro gli sfiorò il braccio con la mano, mentre faceva per alzarsi dalla sua sedia.
“Dove stai andando?” chiese Lance.
“A… baciare l’uomo più brutto della stanza?” Shiro era di nuovo perplesso. “Come mi hai chiesto.”
“Sì. Che è seduto di fianco a te.” E indicò in modo fin troppo plateale Keith che, con le braccia incrociate e il piede leggermente appoggiato al tavolino, fece finta di non aver sentito.
“Oh.” Shiro si risedette immediatamente. “Scusa, per te Keith è l’uomo più brutto della stanza?”
“Ovviamente!” Esclamò Lance. “Escludiamo Pidge e Allura che sono due donne, e tu sei sempre bellissima, Allura, ci sono io, che ovviamente sono fuori scala, poi Hunk, e non vorrai intendere che è il più brutto solo perché non ha il mio figurino? No, è solo un bell’omone, e poi c’è Coran, che i suoi anni se li porta bene col fascino della mezza età.”
A quelle parole, Coran si inorgoglì e si riassettò un attimo il vestito, mentre Allura scoccava un’occhiata compassionevole a Keith.
“Quindi rimane solo Keith, non c’è altro da dire.”
“Potevi dirlo subito.”
Shiro si voltò e mise una mano sulla guancia di Keith, il quale non si sottrasse al suo tocco, e poi si chinò a baciarlo. Sentì le mani di Keith afferrargli i lembi della giacca e trascinarlo più vicino mentre rispondeva al bacio con entusiasmo.
“Ma che…” Lance mormorò.
“Mi sa che Shiro non condivide il tuo giudizio,” disse Pidge noncurante.
“Già, direi proprio di no,” aggiunse Hunk, mentre Shiro si era praticamente sdraiato sopra Keith e si interrompeva un attimo solo a riprendere fiato.
“Avevo detto solo un bacio!”
Si era sbagliato, forse i gusti sbagliati di Lance non erano una cosa negativa. -
.
“Aspetta,” disse Shiro, quando Keith aveva appena preso in mano il phon. “Posso asciugarteli io?”
Keith sbatté le palpebre due volte, poi annuì lentamente. Si sedette delicatamente sulla tazza del bagno, Shiro prese il phon e una spazzola e iniziò il lavoro. All’inizio Keith era un attimino teso, ma poi si sciolse e sorrise dolcemente, mentre Shiro gli passava la spazzola fra i capelli neri.
Erano piuttosto lunghi, scendevano ormai sotto le scapole. Capitava che Keith restasse diverso tempo senza tagliarli, mentre era da qualche parte in missione con il suo gruppo. Aveva raccontato a Shiro (che nonostante girasse l’universo lo faceva comunque a bordo dell’Atlas, che aveva tutte le comodità possibili, specialmente per il capitano) che a volte, mentre soccorrevano la gente negli angolo oscuri dell’universo, passavano diverso tempo all’addiaccio, senza nemmeno potersi lavare se non per brevi periodi. In quei casi, i capelli corti sarebbero stati estremamente comodi, ma per tradizione tendevano a non farlo, e quindi l’unica alternativa possibile era invece allungarli in modo da poterli poi stringere in capigliature che impedivano il più possibile allo sporco di penetrare.
Non diversamente dalle geisha, aveva pensato Shiro, e si era immaginato Keith in un kimono e poi aveva scordato che cosa voleva dire.
Era uno dei motivi per cui poi Keith adorava farsi lunghe docce quando tornava alla civiltà.
“Sono troppo lunghi, eh?” disse Keith, mentre Shiro continuava ad agitare contro il phon. “Scommetto che adesso ti sei pentito di esserti offerto volontario.”
“Questo mai,” rise Shiro. “Però è vero che sono lunghi. Ormai ti arrivano quasi al sedere.”
“Penso che li taglierò,” disse Keith in maniera casuale. “In realtà volevo già farlo appena tornati, con il mio coltello, ma l’ultima volta che l’ho fatto mi sono graffiato il collo ed Ezor mi ha preso per il culo per giorni, quindi ho rinunciato. Però spero che la prossima missione sia un po’ più tranquilla, e non so se ho voglia di tenerli così ancora a lungo.”
“Uuuh…”
Shiro continuò a spazzolarli, usando la mano metallica che non si stancava per tutte quelle spazzolate, ma doveva ammettere che non era proprio la cosa più semplice averli così lunghi, richiedevano un grande impegno per tenerli a posto, e Keith aveva sempre avuto dei bellissimi capelli neri come la notte.
Solo che a Shiro così lunghi piacevano da matti, e non voleva che li tagliasse. Ovviamente sapeva che era ingiusto da parte sua volere qualcosa che poteva creare a Keith uni svantaggio, e quindi non sapeva proprio come dirgli che gli piacevano.
“Oppure potrei farmi la treccia,” continuò Keith. “Ormai sono diventato un esperto, e con la treccia non sono così scomodi ad andarci in giro… ma mi scoccia farmela spesso.”
“Potresti insegnarmi,” Shiro disse immediatamente. “Potrei fartela io, quando se qui attorno almeno.”
Keith si voltò leggermente verso di lui. “Lo faresti? Guarda che non è comodo, e poi non è nemmeno così facile come sembra alla prima occhiata.”
“So pilotare una nave grande quanto un transatlantico e guidarla quando è in versione mecha, penso di potermela cavare,” Shiro rise. “Ma la tua sfiducia in me mi offende.”
“Non volevo dire questo!” esclamò Keith immediatamente, e poi si accorse che lo stava prendendo in giro e si imbronciò appena. “Guarda che però è una bella responsabilità. Se davvero vuoi che li tenga lunghi, dovrai abituarti a me che passo tantissimo tempo in doccia e ad asciugarmeli.”
Con lentezza e dolcezza, Shiro passò l’indice e il dito medio tra i capelli di Keith, partendo dalla nuca fino alla fine, poi afferrò una ciocca tra le stesse due dita, se la arrotolò nelle mani e poi la baciò, un piccolo bacio affettuoso s stampo che fece comunque arrossire Keith.
“Non è un problema.” -
.
“Al momento per stasera è tutto,” Shiro annunciò la chiusura della riunione serale alle otto spaccate. E anche con una certa soddisfazione da parte sua, perché oggi aveva fatto tutto quello che doveva fare, il che voleva dire avere la serata libera.
Una volta che tutti furono usciti dalla sala riunioni, chiamò Keith con cellulare. “Hai già cenato?”
“Non ancora.”
“Ordina qualcosa da portare in camera mia, arrivo fra cinque minuti.”
Shiro ci provava seriamente a ritagliarsi del tempo da spendere in tranquillità con Keith, soprattutto considerando che non spesso Keith era a bordo dell’Atlas, ma spesso le sue giornate erano così piene che a loro era riservato solamente una chiacchierata velocissima prima di andare a dormire. Era felice finalmente di avere un attimo di tempo per sé. Keith non gliel’aveva mai fatto pesare, e comunque era sempre molto impegnato anche lui.
Ma oggi aveva fatto tutto come si deve.
“Ti vedo felice,” commentò Keith, quando Shiro entrò in stanza. La tavola era già apparecchiata e il cibo era arrivato, spandendo un buon odore ovunque. Prima di sedersi, Shiro gli diede un bacio tra i capelli neri.
“Sì, sono felice,” rispose, prendendo la prima boccata di cibo. “Oggi è stata una giornata perfetta.”
“Raccontami,” chiese Keith, ed era una domanda davvero interessata, anche se probabilmente conosceva metà delle cose.
“Be’, abbiamo iniziato al mattino, ho dovuto fare il controllo dell’intera nave per assicurarmi che andasse tutto bene, va fatto ogni lunedì, per una volta persino Slav è riuscito nell’eroica impresa di non parlare di statistiche.”
“Lo stai addestrando.”
“E’ lui che sta addestrando me visto che mi sono messo i calzini come voleva lui. Che vuoi, almeno non mi sono fatto salire la pressione per niente.”
Keith scosse la testa e sorrise.
“Poi sono arrivati i nuovi cadetti, quelli addestrati da Lance.”
“Come sono?” si informò immediatamente Keith.
“A posto, tranquillo. Lance non ha attaccato loro nessuna mania.”
Keith tirò un sospiro di sollievo.
“Mi paiono tra l’altro tutti talentuosi, abbiamo fatto fare delle prove, poi gli MFEs hanno fatto una dimostrazione e sono stati tutti entusiasti. Sam ha mostrato le nuovi navi che stanno costruendo, sono contento dell’aiuto di tutta la coalizione.”
“Hai almeno pranzato?” Keith domandò, con una leggera alzata delle sopracciglia, notando il modo in cui Shiro parlava e si strafogava.
“Sì, sì, con Veronica mentre organizzavamo le attività della giornata. Subito dopo pranzo dovevo incontrare alcuni rappresentativi della coalizione per vedere se riusciamo a inserire anche dei loro cadetti all’interno del programma degli MFEs.”
“Sì, lo so, non vogliamo che l’universo pensi che la Terra stia creando un secondo impero Galra.”
Shiro annuì. “Mi sono sembrati tutti molto entusiasti, e credo che il progetto stia finalmente partendo attivamente, per cui ho passato il resto del pomeriggio a scrivere report e mandare comunicazioni in giro a questo riguardo.”
“E poi la riunione.”
“Sì, quella la facciamo tutti i lunedì per informare tutti i settori dei processi che stiamo svolgendo, le ricerche in corso, capire come dobbiamo procedere… ma siamo tutti abbastanza allineati. A fine settimana finalmente entreremo nel nuovo settore della galassia per cui siamo tutti un po’ eccitati.”
Keith sorrise dolcemente. “Sei felice.”
“Sì,” disse. “Sì, sono felice.”
Ed era vero: faceva quello che aveva sempre desiderato, lo faceva bene, e aveva anche superato quello che era stato il suo tallone d’Achille da sempre, la malattia degenerativa. Era felice.
“Ma anche molto stanco. Ti dispiace…?”
“No.”
Ma a letto si accorse di non avere sonno. Era ancora troppo soddisfatto della giornata appena trascorsa, del modo in cui era riuscito a organizzare le cose, della situazione che in generale poteva affrontare.
Così si sarebbe svegliato stanchissimo la mattina dopo, con l’umore nero, avrebbe bevuto troppi caffè e si sarebbe irritato e avrebbe svolto i suoi compiti più lentamente. A quanto pare anche avere delle giornate piene e soddisfatte era controproducente.
Però c’era Keith, sdraiato al suo fianco, che già dormiva respirando lentamente. Shiro lo abbracciò da dietro, cullandosi nel suono regolare del suo cuore e del suo respiro.
La felicità era anche quello, al termine di una giornata piena, dormire abbracciato alla persona che sia amava. -
.
"And I'm going to get married."
Keith said it with casualty, as it isn't something important, something that is going to change his life forever. Like it isn't something that literally breaks Shiro's heart. And despite the fact they're in a public space, sitting down at the table in a local bar, Shiro lets his emotion got him.
"What? How? With whom?"
"Her name is Maeve," Keith says, as he turns the spoon on his cup. "Allura said she's one of the best alchemists out of the colony's group and she's very favorable at out union."
So she's a woman - curious enough, Shiro trusts his gay radar and Keith doesn't give straight vibes - and and altean.
"You never talked about her," and now you'll marry her is the unsaid accusation.
"I only meet her twice, so I'm talking about her now."
Shiro blinks. "Are you going to marry someone that you met only twice?" That's too much for Shiro, this is not the Keith he knows.
"I guess we'll meet other times before the ceremony."
Sometimes Keith is too blunt for his own good. "No, I mean... do you love her?"
"No?" It's Keith's time to be surprised. "She seems nice, and probably we'll get along, I trust Allura on this. She's the one that matched us up after all. But love her... probably not."
Shiro frowns. "What a minutes... Are you telling me that you're doing an arrange marriage?"
"Yes."
"And you really agree with this?"
Keith shrugs. "You know how few alteans are left in the universe, and we need to stay together, and that involves me too, even if I'm just half-alteans. And Allura insisted so much because I have this particularly quintessence sensibility that, she said, it's important to pass to other alteans."
"I get this," Shiro says, "and I get that Allura is all for it because she takes her role as head of the remaining alteans serious, but this is your life. Don't you think you deserve to chose who to marry, and out of love?"
Keith shrugs again. "I don't think I'll get ever married, so at least with this I'm going to help."
"Not ever falling in love?" Shiro inquires more.
Keith looks at Shiro straight in his eyes. "No."
"Captain. Captain!"
Veronica has to call him twice before Shiro realizes he's calling for him. It's been two days since Keith gave him the news about his marriage and he still has problems processing it, processing that it's too late and that, after all, he has the confirmation that Keith doesn't reciprocate his feelings.
"I'm listening."
"We received a call for the guards on the tower. An unidentified object crashed a couple of kilometers from the city. Sources said it's a Galra pod."
"A Galra pod?" Shiro repeats. "A rebel? Or a blade?"
"They're waiting for you before getting near. They trust your expertise as the Black Paladin only."
"Okay, let's go."
They reaches the area in fifteen minutes, and Shiro sees the crater the crash caused, and the soldiers around that check the situation. At that point, the pilot may be as well dead. Still, Shiro greets the soldiers and climbs down the crater. He uses his metal arm to force the pod's door open and, with his bayard in his hand, he enters. The circuit of the ship are broken, but in the shadow Shiro sees the figure of the pilot, still sitting in the pilot's chair. He's immobile, but Shiro seems to see the small movement of his chest to certified he's still alive.
He drags him outside the pod. "Call the meds!" He screams to Veronica, and only then he takes off the pilot's mask to check who he is as he waits for the meds. He expects a Galra or an half Galra, absolutely not at human.
And that human.
"K-Keith?"
He isn't his Keith, of course. The scar on the right cheek, the way he has his hair a little bit longer, the clothes he's wearing are clues enough, but at first it's a big shock, and not only for Shiro.
It's Slav to confirm that the strange frequencies he capted that day were the sign of an alternative reality and that he can perceive the same from the Keith on the pod.
So, a Keith for an alternate reality.
Talking about thing that are subverting Shiro's existence.
The doctors say that Keith is overall health: the hit from the crash gave him some concussion, but nothing life dangering; Shiro suspects, if this Keith is as good as a pilot as his Keith, that the crash could have been entirely intentional, to avoid a worse crash scenario.
Since Shiro doesn't want for this Keith to wake up alone in a stranger place in a stranger reality, so he remains at his bed. Watching over Keith gives him a sense of normalcy, even if he doesn't help his broken heart to heal.
At the third day, Keith finally opens his eyes. He looks around, confused, and then his gaze fells on Shiro, and his gaze softens. "Shiro..." But then he notices something, and he frowns, and he immediately tries to stand up, suddenly startled.
Apparently, Shiro has some difference to the Shiro of the other reality.
"Please, relax," he says immediately, and makes a peaceful gesture with his hands. "I know this may be confusing for you, but I don't me any harm. You're in an alternative reality."
"Oh." Keith seems relaxing immediately, and he lays down again, even if his looks doesn't move from Shiro. "Are you sure about it?"
"Yes, our scientist elaborates your different frequencies," Shiro answers, "and I personally know the other Keith."
"I see."
"You're taking this incredible well."
"I've been in an alternative reality before," Keith says. "But it was pretty different, and you... you weren't so similar from my Shiro."
It's Shiro turns to be surprised. Despite all his adventures as a Voltron Paladin, he has never crosses another reality. "How different he is from me?"
"He doesn't have the Galra arm anymore."
Unwilling, Shiro looks down at his prosthetic and finds out he envies the alt Shiro and the fact he manages to get rid of something that, despite being useful, remembers Shiro of his prisony.
"And how was the other reality?"
"Bad. The Alteans took over the universe and enslaved everyone." Shiro thinks it't now very different by the Galra empire, but then Keith asks, "there is any change to return home?"
"Our scientist are working on it," Shiro explains. "It's been around an year and an half since they start to recognize some strange frequencies about other realities, even if the knowledge of their existence is older. We never tries to pass through realities, yet, but I'm confident your arrival may help us."
"Passing between realities isn't good and it shouldn't be done," Keith says. then frowns. "An year and a half, you said?"
"Yes."
"Ah." If he knows something, he doesn't say, and Shiro realizes he has as much walls up and the Keith he met years before, and he hopes he can climbs it a second time.
"Are you hungry? Can I bring you something?"
"That would be nice."
"I'll be back soon." He returns ten minutes later with a tray of food, and Keith starts eating slower and carefully. To avoid the embarrassment of staying him watching him eat, he adds, "what about I tell you something about this reality, so you can tell me how your reality differs from me?"
Keith nods slowly, but he isn't looking at him.
"Okay. We met - I mean me and the Keith of this reality - at the Garrison, around seven years ago. I was a young lieutenant and you were the new promise over the pilots. We were friends since there."
"So you didn't recruit me?"
"No?" Shiro is surprised by Keith's immediate response. "We only have three years difference, I was at the last year when you're at first. I did recruit you in yours?"
Keith nods. "Yes, just after I stole your car."
And incredibly, this news makes Shiro laughs. "I can see that."
even Keith seems more relaxed once Shiro's burst. "Did you go to Kerberos in this?" He asks then, with a sad gaze.
"Yes, and I ended up prisoner of the Galra, then I came back, met you again, and went back to space on a Blue Lion and started fighting a space war against Zarkon."
"Okay, this part is the same," Keith says, and he nods when Shiro lists him the paladins and the lion they piloted. "Did you disappear after Zarkon's defeat?"
It's interesting to see how similar aspects can have different outcome. "Not really. I mean, in a sort, we can say I did. My soul were separated by my body, and while I was trapped in the Black Lion's consciousness, my body was in a sort of coma."
“Oh,” Keith says. “So we know you’re still alive somewhere.”
“I guess so?” Shiro murmurs. “It was a complicated period. Allura took my place as the pilot of the Black Lion, and-” He’s cut off.
“Allura did it?”
“Yeah. She’s the princess, and the leader. It seems the obvious choice, and she did a great job. Like I said, it was a complicate period, and Zarkon’s son, Lotor, is even more cunning that his father, so the battles became harsher, difficult. She had to make difficult choices.”
Keith smiles sadly. “I wonder if thing would have been different if Black accepted Allura in my reality too.”
“Who pilot Black then?” Shiro asks, sincerely curious.
“I did.” And there is a small sadness in his eyes. “For a little while, before your return. Or at least, what we thought it was your return. Instead, it was a clone.”
“A clone?!”
“Yes.” Keith nods. “Haggar had taken much interest in Shiro, and she managed to clone him and used one of his clone to spy on us. We found out later on, when she had to use the clone to save her son Lotor.”
“Wait, Haggar’s Lotor’s mother in your reality?”
“Yes, we found out much later thought. Lotor rejected her – well, for some times Lotor was our allied against them and Zarkon, before we found out about the altean colony he’s used for drain special quintessence. But then we killed Lotor and she swore revenge upon us. She almost destroyed all the realities in the meantime.”
“Woaw, extra,” Shiro says, and without notice they’re both chuckling. Things are so similar yet so different that it’s almost comical. “In this reality, Lotor’s mother is an altean, and he was killed by Zarkon. Haggar was just another Galra who tried to be more, and she used the knowledge stolen from Lotor’s mother for it, but in the end her machines were just bad copies. Once we defeated Lotor, she surrendered. Right now we have some rebel group of Galra, but the empire is basically defeated.”
“Like us. Wait, was Earth attacked in this reality?”
“The Earth? No! It was too far… it was in your?”
“Yeah, almost destroyed because of Sendak,” Keith replies. “And we lost four years of our lives for some time travelling problems… well, that’s it. I guess you’re not the Captain of the Atlas then.”
“What’s Atlas?”
“A big ship that can turn into a mecha, it was built by Sam Holt during the Earth invasion. When we came back to Earth, I was still piloting Black, and you took the command of Atlas. Especially because the Castle of Lion were destroyed.”
“I see… No, we still have the Castle, and Allura left me my spot on the Black Lion… wait, who’s piloting Red if you’re on Black?”
“Lance. And Allura was in blue.”
“Lance in Red? Oh my God.” And then he laughs again, at Keith annoyed and amused impression.
“He was not so bad, I assure you.”
“I’m gonna believe you only because it’s you,” Shiro smiles. “But how do you find me back in your reality, if there’s no body?”
“I… manage to get in contact with your spirit in the astral plane of the Black Lion,” Keith says, but he doesn’t sound happy. “The clone died, so Allura managed to transport your soul inside the body.”
“And my hair become white?”
“Yep!”
“So it’s very similar to me,” Shiro says. “With the difference that it was you to transfer my consciousness into my body.”
“I was able to?”
“Well, you study a lot of altean alchemy and then you went to Oriante, so yes, even if I guess Allura would be able too.”
“I didn’t realize I would be able to learn altean alchemy.”
“Wait! Do you know you’re half altean, don’t you?”
“Oh, that’s it. I’m not half altean in my reality.” Then, with a little embarrassment, he says, “I’m half galra.”
“Oh.” Just when Shiro thinks he can’t be more surprised by the difference. “I guess you won’t be able to, then. But the important thing is that you still found me.”
Keith releases a sad smile. “I guess so.”
Talking with that Keith is easy, it’s like talking with his own Keith, despite all their difference. And probably the same is valid for Keith, that starts to open more and more and finally reveals that, in his reality, Allura sacrificed her life to save everyone – including their reality.
It looks like the other reality got it worse – like the scar on Keith’s cheek prove, the only thing that Keith refused to talk about. But he speaks with a lot of sweetness about his own Shiro, about how his life would be totally different without him, and about how much he misses his friendship now that he’s the Captain of the Atlas with a lot of duty.
Shiro recognizes those situation, and to reciprocicate tells him a lot about his Keith and how they were their years at Garrison, and how they were right now, and about the difference and the similarities between the two pairs.
“…Unless you’re getting married, like the Keith from here. Hey, aren’t you?”
“Uh, no,” but he seems surprised. “But you are getting married in my reality.”
That’s definitely the thing that hit Shiro the most.
It’s definitely a bizarre coincidence, a Shiro and a Keith getting married in their own reality, and a Keith and a Shiro still single in their reality. Bizzare coincidence… or a strange form of destiny? But Shiro tries to cancel that image from his mind. That Keith, the Keith that’s single, is going to return in his reality soon enough, and Shiro can’t – won’t – ask him to remain. Let’s aside the fact that he probably isn’t in love with him since he seemed pretty okay at the idea of his Shiro married.
So, yeah, Shiro isn’t going to do stupid things about it. He’s going to take care of Keith until the moment his scientist are going to manage to bring Keith back in his reality. And then he’ll learn to accept that his Keith, the man he’s in love with, will marry another person.
***
Despite the time Keith ends up spending in that reality, because apparently the scientists are taking much time than predicted to find a way back to his reality, there still a feeling of strangeness, in the way he doesn’t really belong there, and that despite all the attempt of Shiro to relax him. He’s grateful, really, but he can’t help but looking at Lance, or Hunk, or Pidge, and realizes that they’re not his Lance, Pidge and Hunk. And looking at Allura is even worse, because it remembers him that they lost Allura, while this one is still alive and well. Like it’s unfair.
He’s felling like being back at the Garrison, where he feels everyone else is a stranger. Everything but Shiro, of course. Even if he isn’t his Shiro, he’s still a Shiro, and Keith can’t help but feeling incredibly at ease with him, at the point he’s basically living with him at the moment. He’s grateful for this moments that he can’t have anymore with Shiro.
The weirder thing of all that situation is Alt Keith’s presence, of course, and the thing is definitely the same for them. They try to be civil, of course, but basically they avoid any conversation between the two of them and Keith himself prefers, when they’re together in the group, not talking with any of them, but letting Keith be the real Keith of the group, at it should be.
It’s even weird when Keith arrives with his fiancé, and they start to talk about the incoming wedding. Keith has enough with his Shiro’s wedding (and glady outsource Shiro’s party to Lance, despite being the best man), but hearing them planning the wedding of another himself is a little too strange for Keith.
But maybe is just the fact that Keith can’t see him marry someone else that isn’t Shiro, and in this reality Shiro looks single, so he doesn’t understand. He knows that he can’t judge Alt Keith’s life, he has no right, yet he doesn’t seem right for him.
Maeve is a nice altean with long blue hair and bright yellow eyes, that’s also a little but touchy for Keith’s taste. She doesn’t leave Keith’s side, and basically she grabs him every time, as to prove he’s her. Alt Keith seems to accept the situation with seraphic calm, while Shiro gets a little nervous in his behalf (Keith’s sure to be the only one to notice Shiro’s distress too).
“And as Keith’s best man, Shiro will be allowed to walk inside the cave with us, and witness to our union, and glady be at Keith’s side for the ceremony,” Maeve is saying, as she explaining how the traditional altean marriage will take place. Keith wonders if he would have chose a galra ceremony for hias own wedding.
“Speaking about this,” Lance intervenes. “Shiro’s the best man, and okay, we all expected that. But what about the stag night? Can I organize it? I know some place…” Pidge rolls his eyes, Hunk looks worried, and Shiro just shakes his head.
“It’s all yours.” He looks tired as he says that.
“Perfect! You won’t forget this, mullet!”
“Actually,” Maeve coughs a little, to lure their attention. “There won’t be any stag party.”
“What?” Lance is horrified. “Why?”
“It isn’t a altean tradition.”
“But it’s an Earth tradition,” Lance replies, “and Keith’s half Terran too. He deserves the stag party as anyone else.”
Maeve’s face becomes icy. “Queen Allura trusts us into bringing back the glory of Altea. Our union will probably create a new house of powerful alchemist. This isn’t a game, this is an essential mission for our people.”
“Okay, I understand that,” Hunk says. “But it’s just a party, you know what a party is, don’t you?”
“It’s more than a party. It’s a disrespect of our tradition,” Maeve continues. “If we want to be seen as the true new altean people, we have to respect our tradition at all, and don’t let others dirty what he’s been us and sacred for century, and what we managed to save from Zarkon’s attack. So the marriage will be held only with altean tradition.”
“This is so unfair!” Pidge protests, even if she isn’t eager for the stag party until a second ago. “You’re talking a lot about tradition and yet you’re disrespecting at all Keith’s own traditions.”
“With due all respect, Altean is far older and powerful than Earth, and so-”
Shiro interrupts them before the conversation degenerate in something they all regret. “Guys. Maybe before all this we should ask what Keith thinks about it.”
Alt Keith has been silent for all the conversation, almost trying to make himself invisible in the cushion of the sofa (a feeling Keith understand immensely), and he regrets having the attention of everyone on himself at the moment. Maeve gets nearer him, keeping his hand, basically sitting in his lap.
“What do you want, Keith?” Shiro asks, with a little smile.
“Yeah, honey, tell him what do you want,” Maeve says, and this time her tone is sweet, with a big smile on his lips.
“It’s okay if we don’t do the stag party,” Alt Keith shrugs. His voice his toneless. “I don’t really like the chaos, and I’m pretty sure Lance is going to do something big, and chaotic, and probably someone will risk to die, something I really don’t need the night before my wedding. So, thank you, but I’m fine.”
“See?” Maeve says, looking directly towards the group, and there is a brightness on her eyes, the joy of having win the argument. “Unlike you, Keith understands the importance of our traditions. Be glady to have been invited to the wedding, because it wasn’t granted.”
“Some alteans wanted to make it an only altean ceremony,” Alt Keith murmurs, “but they agree that at least the Paladins must attend it.”
“Of course,” Lance exclaims, and the crosses his arms, still angry he won’t be able to organize the stad party.
They change the argument, but Keith doesn’t notice it, his gaze still on his other self and his future wife. The scene he just witnessed hit too much close to home. He had a very similar meeting with Shiro and Curtis, the day Shiro invited them all for drinking and announcing his engagement.
They were all happy and cheering (well, everyone but Keith, even if he tried very hard to be supportive of Shiro’s decision) until the moment Shiro announced that he would resign for his position as Atlas’ captain and will retire from the Garrison.
“You can’t, you’re my hero,” Lance protested, while Pidge pointed out, “nobody can pilot the Atlas but you,” and Hunk just tried a little “are you sure?”
To answer to all those question was Curtis, while Shiro just stood it and let Curtis spoke on his behalf. Just like Maeve today. Keith had a bitter taste in his mouth that night, and he had now, like maybe they’re not bad person, they don’t realize they’re manipulative ass, but they are, and just as he didn’t understand why Shiro was fine with it, he doesn’t understand Keith’s weakness here.
“Are you really okay with this?” Keith asked to Shiro, and he only got an half smile and an half answers, “someone we need to take decision that are for the best”.
For the rest of the day, he doesn’t take his eyes off Shiro. Shiro still talks with the others, elaborates projects, sometimes he tries to put Keith in the middle of the conversation, but Keith knows that, deep down, he’s angry about what happened before with Maeve, and there’s a part of him that doesn’t accept the situation and he just holds back because he loves Keith too much.
“Can I make a personal question?” he says to Shiro, as they walks back to the apartment they share in the time Keith is passing on that reality.
“Uh, sure.” Shiro seems still a little bit distracting by the previous happening.
“You’re in love with your Keith, aren’t you?”
Shiro freezes on the spot, he stops walking, for a couple of seconds he remains there, looking at Keith with his mouth half opened, while his face becomes entirely red, ears included. Then, he releases a bitter, humorless laugh.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me this,” he says at last, shaking his head while he starts walking again, and Keith follows him. Keith fears to have offending him, but then Shiro adds, “I’ve always thought I’m pretty obvious with my crush, but apparently no one noticed it, not Keith for sure, but not even the others. Sometimes they talk about how much they envy a friendship as mine and Keith’s, and I die a little inside every time.”
“There’s a reason why I know this,” Keith whispers then, realizing that the situation is very much similar to his own. No one of his friends think he’s suffering because of Shiro’s marriage.
“And which is it?”
“You look at your Keith in the exact same way I look at my Shiro.”
Slowly, Shiro turns at him and blinks, silently asking if he understood correctly. When Keith nods a little, he doesn’t add anything. He wait for them to be inside their apartment, and he closes the door behind him, before revealing all his surprise.
“You’re in love with Shiro?”
“Yes. I’ve been for a long time now.” Keith nods a little. “It started all in the Garrison, you know. He’s bigger, and brave, and great, and he saved me. But I thought he would never look at me, not until we were together fighting with our lions. There I felt I was Shiro’s partner, that we were connecting in a way I would have with nobody else. But in the end, I fall in love and he only sees me as a friend.”
He can imagine the pain on his face, because he’s the same he sees right now on Shiro’s face.
“I heard you talking about him, but I didn’t realize…”
“Oh, well,” Keith shrugs, “You’re not the only one.” Sometimes Keith wonders if Shiro is just obvious of his feeling or he’s ignoring him to not hurt Keith more.
“Sorry,” Shiro still says, with an apologetic smile. “The same is for me, you know. I met Keith when he’s already a second year cadet, and he blew out all my flight records. I didn’t envy him, I admire his talent, that’s why I wanted to be his friend. And he was so easy falling for him, in the way he speak and act and think, and he’s so beautiful too…”
It hurts, Keith realizes, hearing this Shiro talking in this way, in the way Keith hopes his Shiro would have, one day, talked. He says it out loud.
“God, how much I wish you are my Shiro.”
Shiro stops his blabbering, and looks at him intensely. Then, he kisses him.
In a second, they are on Shiro’s bed, kissing, touching, and trying to undress themselves and the others, Shiro upon him with a hand on his hair to caresses him.
“You appeared him my life just a couple of day later after Keith announced me his arranged marriage,” Shiro says, looking at Keith’s half naked body with red cheeks. “Maybe it was destiny. Maybe we were mean to be…”
He’s bend over to kiss Keith again, but this time Keith rejects him pushing him away with the palm of his hand. “What do you mean, arrange marriage?” His mind starts to work clearly again.
“Oh, well, he’s marring Maeve to populate Altea again, Allura matched them, or so Keith said.” Shiro blinks, not understanding.
“You are so stupid!” Keith burst out. He knows, he knows that in any universe he can love someone else than Shiro. “You’re giving up on him, and he’s not even marrying out of love, unlike my Shiro!”
“What can I do,” Shiro protests, “he wouldn’t may if he’s in love with me, would he? And I tried to told him that an arrange marriage isn’t the solution, but he told me he was fine.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s because he’s scared to lose you,” Keith replies.
“Well, I’m scared to lose him too!” Shiro screams back. “What if he doesn’t love me and by confessing I’m going to make thing akwards between us? He never show me something more than friendship, and I’m fucking scared to lose him that I’m ready to see him marrying another person if it means he’ll be still my friend.”
Ouch, how much Keith can understand that discourse.
“You know a thing? Once we stargazing together, we lyed down together on the grass, and I was half asleep, and then Keith was upon me, checking up on me, and joked about how an old man I am because I couldn’t stay up late, and then he bent towards me and I was so sure he was going to kiss me that I close my eyes… and he hugged me saying how much he’s happy to be my friend. So, yeah.”
He stops his monologue with a snort and Keith releases a small “damn”. That scene is awfully familiar, it’s the moment Shiro wakes up after healing from the clone’s body, and Keith leaned towards him, just after Shiro had revealed to dream about him, and Shiro rested freeze, closed his eyes a little, Keith remembered that well… and then Keith hugged him. Because his mother was there, because he was just a fucking cowards.
“We are stupid,” he murmurs, “all four of us.”
“Well, now I feel a little bit better. Or maybe not, because apparently there isn’t a reality when things work between us.”
“It may be this reality,” Keith says. “Listen well. I… I did the same thing of your Keith. I had an almost kiss with my Shiro… and I didn’t because I was afraid. And then things went shit between us, at the point we almost speak to each other right now.”
Shiro holds a gasp. “Because he’s in love with you and he thinks you aren’t.”
“Maybe, maybe not, not important now,” Keith waves his hand. “The important thing is that probably Keith loves you just I love my Shiro, but he’s feeling you’re not reciprocicating his feelings, so he accepted an arrange marriage for the sake of his people. I know, because I would do the same thing.”
“And what will happen if I confess?”
“I’ll cry, then I’ll kiss you and tell you how much I love you.”
With his head low, Shiro releases a small laugh. “Okay. I’ll do it. But only if you confess too, once you’re back.”
“My Shiro isn’t doing an arranged marriage.”
“No, but he’s marrying someone to forget he’s in love with his best friend. Because that what I would do in his place.” And then he looks at Keith, and smiles, and says, “I wasn’t wrong, our meeting was destiny.”
And Keith believes him, and believes in the fact that he’s going to see this Shiro confesses to his Keith, and be happy, and he believes that he’s going to return to his reality, and confesses to his Shiro, and be happy.
That’s destiny after all. -
.
“At the moment, the most important thing you have to do is here,” Pidge screamed to him and the cell phone. “So move your ass and come here.”
“And wear a Garrison Uniform!” Hunk added fast. “Not yours, the one officers have! You’ll understand.”
So Keith leaves his idea of visiting the planet Auili, says goodbye to the ambassador and takes back his ship to return to the Atlas, that at the moment is holding some Voltron Coalition Meetings in the Andromeda Galaxy, a part of the space the Blades already explored.
It’s been a while since he’s back, yet the soldiers doesn’t seem very impressed by his presence, since they are used to his suddenly arrival. Some of them look at him curiously because of his uniform, but none of them ask something. Rules change fast inside the coalition, and even faster for the former paladins of Voltron.
“Here I am,” Keith announces himself as he enters in Pidge’s personal office. “Did something explodes? Lance needs me for killing another tharhutea spider?”
“Hey, that thing were gigantic, you know,” Hunk defends his best friend.
“No, this time is something worse.” Pidge seems to reflect a little. “Or better. I don’t know. You’ll see.”
To be honest, Keith is a little curious about it. Pidge and Lance seem to call him for very mundane things, being around the Atlas all time, but Hunk is very busy around the universe with his job as culinary ambassador, so his presence on the Atlas indicates the situation may be serious.
“Hunk and I are working at an Allura’s tracker,” Pidge explains, as they walk in the hallway towards the offices area. “I found some strange frequency around the universe and they may be the lions, and the lions know where Allura is. Hunk is helping me with that.”
“Oh,” Keith comments. He doesn’t know that.
“Don’t tell Lance,” Hunk says immediately. “We don’t want to give him false hope.”
“Anyway, the machine works like a reality breaker. Not enough stronger to bring us to another reality, but strong enough to pierce it. If Allura is blocked inside two reality, of course. Or more than that.”
“But we make a mistake,” Hunk adds. “We thought that with that frequency we were piercing reality, but in truth we were piercing the space-time continuity. Probably because Allura used that to restore Altea and Daibazaal.”
“Okay…” Keith is starting to get confused.
Pidge stops in front of a glass window. “Long story short, we accidentally brought a person from the past here.”
Keith looks in the glass: there is a small room, with a table and two chair on the opposite side. One of them is occupied by Shiro. But not the Shiro he knows. This one looks younger, younger even that the Shiro Keith met when he was fourteen. His jaws is still childish, still a little bit round, and he looks smaller in that orange cadet uniform.
“We thought you wanted to talk to him,” Hunk murmurs.
“To say him what?” Keith replies. “I didn’t know this Shiro, and he doesn’t know me.”
The two of them throws a look to each other. “We still think it’s better if you speak with him,” she says, at last. “We need to understand where he came from, to be able to send him back before the continuum get wrecked.”
“And it’s better if you don’t talk too much about the future, too,” Hunk adds. “We don’t know much about time-travel, but it’s not good for a person to know what he’s going to happen to him.”
“He’ll have his memory when he’ll go back?” Keith asks.
Pidge shrugs. “I don’t know. To be fair, I don’t want him to have – even this small accident can cause a big problem, so I’ll work into a memory loss of some sort, but if I don’t make it, it’s better he knows nothing about his future.” She passes Keith earphones. “If we need you to make some specific question.”
“What I need him to say?” Keith asks, as he puts them on.
“Everything may be useful, but especially where he was, when he was, something like that.”
After a small nod, Keith enters in the room. Shiro spots him and immediately jumps still, on standing. Keith is surprise by the gesture when he remembers he has the officer uniform on.
“Sir.”
Even his voice is a little bit different. But he’s already as taller as Keith.
“At ease, cadet.” Keith takes place in the chair in front of him, and Shiro sits down back. His grey eyes are studying Keith intensely. He doesn’t know Keith, of course, but Garrison has bases anywhere. Surely Shiro is asking himself why a Officer from another base wants to talk with him.
Maybe it would have been better if Iverson speaks with him. But Iverson is older, and probably Shiro would have been scarier about it.
“Am I in trouble?” Shiro asks.
“No, cadet. Why do you think that?”
Shiro presses his lips together. “I was doing an authorized session inside the flight simulator, sir.”
A smiles erupts on Keith’s face: Shiro told him so in the past, and when Keith was a cadet they used to sneak inside as much as possible.
“Ask his name,” Pidge says.
“What’s your name, cadet?”
“Takashi Shirogane, sir.”
“And how old are you?”
“I became eighteen years old three month ago.”
Eighteen… the age Keith became a paladin. It was so strange, that entire situation.
“So you’re about to graduate?”
“Correct, sir. I’m going to become a lieutenant in two months. Or at least I hope so.”
“We need to know where he was and what happened to him,” Hunk says.
Keith nods. “Now, tell me what happened today. You said you were in the flight simulator?”
“Yes, Sir. I… wanted to test my skill a little more. I’m doing the F-45 simulator, when the screen become black. I think someone found me and disconnected it, but then I heard a tremble, like a earthquake, and a light explodes inside the simulator. I run to hide behind the chair, and waited for it to stop.”
Keith gestures at him to continue.
“It last a couple of minutes, then it stopped as it never happened. I stood up, and I realized I wasn’t in the simulator anymore, so I opened the door. And I met Matthew Holt. Or at least I thought it was Matt. He looked like him.”
And he lifts his gaze a little, to search in Keith’s eyes the answer of his doubts, but Keith doesn’t give him any.
“Then a soldier accompanied me here.”
“I see.” Keith waits to see if Pidge and Hunk has something to add, but all he can ears is their whispering, as probably they’re doing some calculations of their own. “You’re not in trouble, I assure you,” he says then. “But you ended up into a scientific experiment without notice, and now we’re looking how to remedy that.”
“A secret one?”
“Sort of,” Keith smiles. “Shiro, you’re in the future. Ten years from your time, more or less.”
Shiro’s eyes widen. “What?”
“I wish I could joke, but no. That light you saw brought you here. Don’t worry, my colleagues are already working into bringing you back, but I’m not sure how much time it’ll take.”
“This is so strange… ten years, you said?” He forgot completely the sir, too overwhelming by the news. “I…”
“I need you to understand a very important thing,” Keith says. “You can’t know anything about the future. Knowing it may risk to change the timeline.”
“Sure. I… understand.”
Keith nods. “Just a second.” He stands up and leaves the room, finding Pidge and Hunk sitting down on the ground, their datapads in their hand, lost in calculations.
Without lifting her head, Pidge says, “You shouldn’t have told him about his situation. Even that knowledge may cause some problems in the timeline.”
“I’ll try to avoid it as much as I can,” Keith replies, “but I guess him being here is already a timeline rupture?”
Not happy, Pidge nods. “That’s why I’m working on the memory loss device. No memory, no problems.”
“So, since we agree on this, I’ll take Shiro in my room. He’ll be safe here, and far away from things he shouldn’t know,” he clarify, when the two of them look at him intensely. “Tell me when you’re over with your researches.”
“But you can’t making him wandering around!” Pidge protests.
“I’m not letting Shiro in that room, especially if you need so much time to resolve the situation.”
Then he whistles a little, and the giant figure of the space wolf compares at his side, and both Hunk and Pidge understand. He re-enters in the room, and Shiro stands up again.
“Come with me.”
“Yes, sir.” Shiro reaches for him and, with a little bit of uncertainty, he takes his hand.
A second later, they are in Keith’s room, the one in the Atlas is assigned to. Shiro seems a loss to words, he looks around at the space with big eyes and when he spots the wolf he swallows visibility.
“This is space wolf,” Keith explains. “He can teleported, that’s how I moved you here. Now, you can caress him if you’d like, he’s friendly.”
Shiro’s eyes are still big, yet he smiles and leans his hand in front. The wolf presses his muzzle against him and Shiro giggles. “He has a name?”
“He hasn’t told me yet,” Keith answers. Then, at Shiro’s curious look, he adds, “but most people call him Kosmo.”
“Kosmo,” Shiro repeats, and he rubs his hands on the wolf’s head.
“Calypso may be around sometimes too,” Keith adds. “She’s Sh- the captain’s cat, but she’s a cat from planet Hirs, so not a normal cat too.”
“We found alien for of life in just ten years?” Shiro’s eyes are brighter of happiness and desire, and Keith regrets the impossibility of bringing him around, showing you what he’ll do in just ten years.
“This is my room,” he says then. “You have to remain here until we are able to bring your back in your time. I know it’s going to be boring, but it’s necessary. I’ll try to find you something to spend time in the meantime.”
“Okay.” Shiro nods a little, his hand still in the wolf’s fur.
“Any questions?”
“One,” Shiro says, with his head low. “If you can answer, sir.”
“Call me Keith, please.”
“Keith.” Shiro sags the name on his lips. “Do… do you know me?”
“Why are you asking this?” Keith hopes to not have revealing much of the entire situation.
“Because I’d like to know… if I’m still alive today.”
Keith frowns. “You have a degenerative muscles disease. It’s not really lethal, especially with our technology. In ten years, the faster thing that can happened to you is to be on a wheelchair.”
He’s been blunt, he realizes, and Shiro is taken the information with rage more than sadness.
“So am I on a wheelchair.”
“I haven’t said that,” Keith replies, realizing. For Shiro probably dying doing something he loves it’s better than leaving a life fighting against his disease. And in some way he’s prepared to that. “You’re still alive, Shiro, and you’re not in a wheelchair. But I’m afraid I can’t say you more.”
“Okay. Thanks.” There’s now relieve on Shiro’s face, and Keith smiles.
“Be my guest, here. I’ll be back soon.”
He spends the rest of the afternoon looking for everything Shiro may like – his favorites books, his favorite movies or videogames – to bring it back in the room so Shiro won’t get too bored while Pidge and Hunk work on their machine. He returns to the room only in the evening.
“I bring dinner,” he announces. “Mac and cheese and chocolate pudding.”
“My favorite!” Shiro exclaims happy, the frowns. “How did you know.”
“Lucky guess?” Keith tries to minimize, as they sits down on the table.
“We know each other, don’t we?” Shiro asks, as he takes his plates and starts eating. “Uh, the quality of this hasn’t changed in ten years. It’s amazing.”
Keith doesn’t answer, and he hopes the food is enough to distract Shiro long enough. But he isn’t so lucky, because after the third bite, Shiro looks at him directly, and asks, “how old are you?” At that point, he lost any for of respect for gerarchy.
“Watch your mouth, cadet,” he says, and he laughs at Shiro’s embarrassed blush. “I’m twenty-five.” And as he pronounces that, he realizes now he has the same age difference Shiro has with him when he came to his school.
“So you are thirteen in my timeline,” Shiro says.
“Yes, I’m not in the Garrison yet.”
Shiro seems to be interested in more, but then he moves his gaze away. “Nice room.”
As a Paladin of Voltron, and since the fact they live on Atlas more than on Earth, Keith’s room looks like a little apartment, with a spacious dinner room with a personal kitchenette, a separate bedroom with a queen size bed and a big wardrobe, and a personal bathroom, even if he refused the bathtub because he prefers the shower.
“Thanks.”
“No personal objects around.”
“You’re thinking it’s because of you, but it’s not,” Keith replies. “I don’t spend much time here, I’m usually around. My spaceship is better finite that this one.”
“You have a spaceship? Like, a persona one? And you pilot it?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.”
“Oooh.” Then, from excited his gaze become sad. “And I guess I can’t take a ride.”
“Unfortunately, no.” Keith realizes how much he’d like to bring Shiro around, since the old Shiro doesn’t have time anymore. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You take the bed, I can sleep on the sofa.”
The next morning, Shiro wakes up in the soft sheet of Keith’s bed. Kosmo sleeps curled next to him, and Shiro blinks, trying to collect back the event of the previous day.
Everything was fucking weird. Traveling in time it’s definitely not something he’d expect to do in his life, yet here he is. He passes a hand on Kosmo’s fur, thinking about all the things that are outside and he can’t see, no matter how curious he is. What’s the point of time-traveling, if you can’t see anything?
He looks at the half-opened door and wonders where Keith is.
Keith. He’s quite a mystery, for Shiro. He’s convinced Keith knows him, at least the future version of his, and even if he understand why Keith can’t talk, Shiro wants to know more, about how and when they met and how their relationship is.
He doesn’t take long for him to understand that is curiosity come from a very material thing: Keith is fucking gorgeous. Shiro hopes with all his heart that his gay moment wasn’t too obvious the moment Keith walked in the interrogation room. But, damn if Shiro is still looking at his memory of the scene with a beating heart.
Just for checking, he looks below the sheet: no morning erection. That would be definitely weird.
The problem is that Keith is now older than him, and probably not interest into a kid like Shiro at all – let’s aside the fact Shiro comes from the past, and that’s another kind of a problem – and in his present Keith is still a child, and they’re probably going to meet at Garrison when Shiro is much older than him, and he would be a cadet… damn, how it’s possible that their timeline doesn’t collide?
But Shiro hasn’t felt about a person for all his life. Sure, he had crushes in the past, and he can admit that Lieutenant Adam West is pretty nice and he may invite him to dinner once he’s a lieutenant too, but he never get such a violent reaction from his body.
“Get a grip on yourself, Shirogane,” Shiro says to himself. He has bigger problem than a crush for a man he basically doesn’t exist. He gets off from the bed, with a whines from Kosmo, and opens the bathroom’s door. He’s invested by a warm air and the sound of a shower.
Keith is there, protected only by a glass that doesn’t hide anything of his body. He has his back at Shiro, so he doesn’t notice him at first. But Shiro notices him – very well. Especially he notices his incredible perfect ass – because Shiro has a preference for asses and of course Keith’s best part is his ass, so round, and muscled, and Shiro is sure that’s hard under the touch…
“Oh, Shiro,” Keith turns and smiles at him, apparently not ashamed at them. “Did I wake you up?”
“No, no, sorry. I’ll wait you outside.” And he basically escapes from the room, with the imagine of Keith’s ass still in his mind.
When Keith comes outside, only a towel around his hips, Shiro has difficult to look at him in the eyes.
Boredom hits Shiro hard, at the point the almost forgot about Keith’s gorgeous body and the way the water drop on his skin. He appreciates the movies and the videogames and the books, but there’s only a small amount of time he can spend with that before getting restless. Probably is because of his disease, but he isn’t the type to stay put.
Suddenly, Kosmo pofs out of existence, startling Shiro. “Great, even the wolf is getting bored.” And he groans and envies him because he can escape from this room. He looks at the close door, and he’s sure Keith hasn’t locked him inside, but Shiro is a good boy and he isn’t going to trust Keith’s faith.
With a sigh, he starts reading again.
Kosmo is back an hour later, and he places his forepaws on Shiro’s knees.
“Did you have fun?” Shiro asks, faking annoyance as he moves the datapads away and lets Kosmo licks his face. “I wish I can leaving too…”
A second later, his butt crashes on the hard ground. “Own, Kosmo,” he protests, but he finds himself in a completely different place than Keith’s room, a place he doesn’t recognize and that looks like a garner, but with plants he has never seen before.
“Kosmo, bad wolf. Bring me back immediately,” Shiro protests, but Kosmo teleporters away of few meters, barking as he expects Shiro to take on him as they’re joking as hide and seek. “No, Kosmo, bring me back now, this isn’t a game.”
In that moment, Kosmo rushes outside the door and, by the time Shiro stands back and follows him, he disappears. With a sigh, Shiro thinks fast about what to do. Finding Kosmo – a wold that can teleported – seems harder than finding back Keith’s room, so probably he won’t create too much distress if he asks information to someone.
Since the garden looks empty, Shiro leaves the room and carefully he follows the hallway. They definitely aren’t at the Garrison, that much was clear, but only then he realizes they aren’t probably in a normal building too. After all, Keith never let Shiro opening the window on his room.
And then he realizes: we’re probably in a space ship. Keith nominated a ‘captain’ last night. We’re in space. He tries to take his excitation under control.
Finally, he reaches a more wide space that looks like a cafeteria. There are people there, people with his orange uniform and officer, but also… aliens. Shiro remains for a second on the door, incredulous. He can see people with purple or blue fur, or people with pointed hair like elfs, and also people that doesn’t look human at all. Some of them wears the Garrison uniform and that surprise Shiro even more than their presence.
The future looks awesome. Shiro wishes, so much, with all his heart, to be a part of that crew somehow, even only for a little while.
“Ehi, move,” someone says behind him, and pushes him a little far from the door.
“Oh,” Shiro whispers. He wears a uniform too, so nobody suspect he comes from the future. He can sits down with someone, tries to speak to them and finding out something about his future. But then Keith – beautiful, kind Keith – comes back in his mind and he decides to not risk it.
He gets near a table where they are mostly human. “Do you know where I can find the officers’ rooms?” he asks.
“Why?” a woman with blonde hair asks.
“And which officer? There’s different quarters for them,” adds another one.
“And all of them off limits, unless you have a permit,” another one clarifies.
“I guess I have,” Shiro says. “I have to go to…” and he realizes he doesn’t know his family name, “Keith’s room. Do you know him?”
“You mean Commander Koh?” the last one asks.
“Tall, gorgeous blue eyes, long dark hair…” the blonde woman tries to describe him.
And a great ass, Shiro’s mind supply. “Yes, it’s him.”
“And why you have to go to Commander Koh’s room?”
“It’s classified.”
The woman narrows her eyes at him. “It’s better if we ask the Commander himself. Nothing against you, but there are been… incident before.”
“Okay, fine by me.”
He hopes to return to the room without Keith noticing his disappearance, but he understands the others’ distress. And he’s a little curious about what incident they talked about: he wondered how many people have a crush on Keith on the ship.
“Come with me,” the woman says. “I think he’s probably in the Captain’s office.”
They crosses even more hallway, in which Shiro has the definitive confirmation they’re on a ship, and then the woman deliver him to a superior office that accompany him on the upper deck.
“Wait here.”
The officer opens a door and enters. Since the door remains opened, Shiro peeps a little bit inside. He looks like a meeting, a lot of officer and aliens (without the uniform) sit inside, looking at a screen at the end of the room. The officer that accompanied Shiro approached a man next to the screen: definitely not Keith, he’s taller and broader.
The Captain? Damn, maybe now Shiro’s in trouble.
When they seem to move, Shiro returns immediately to the hallway and looks on the ground.
“Who’s looking for Keith?”
The man in front of Shiro is imposing, with a uniform that remains the Garrison one but made just for him, like he’s too special for a normal one. He doesn’t have the right arm, but a technological, big, floating white and light blue prosthetic. The white hair and the scar on his nose can’t hide the fact that the man definitely looks like an older version of Shiro.
Well, at least he looks as shocked as Shiro himself.
When Keith returns in hurry into his room, he finds only the present Shiro (the old, reassuring Captain Shirogane) in his sofa. He doesn’t look angry, but he’s definitely tries to hide his shock behind his usual mask of softness.
“You could have warning me,” he murmurs, standing up.
“Sorry. I was absolutely sure Pidge and Hunk told you, since they’re making dangerous scientific experiment on your ship,” Keith answers. “Or maybe they didn’t inform you about this too. In that case, pretend I didn’t tell you anything.”
Shiro laughs. “No, they told me about that. Not about the consequences though...” He nods a little towards the closes door of the bedroom. “At least, he was as shocked as me.” He smiles. “I don’t realize I’m so scarier.”
“You aren’t.” Keith rolls his eyes. “But I have to admit, if I would meet the myself of the present… I would be pretty shocked too.”
“Yeah, understandable.” Shiro sighs. “What about now?”
“I’m going to speak with Pidge, but from what she told me at the beginning of all this, she’ll probably have to cancel his memory. Any information about the future could change the time line and we don’t want that, do we?”
“Not sure. Is the storyline changed better? I’m still going to have my beautiful dark hair? You know, I kinda miss them now.”
Keith gives him a little, playful punch. “Stop it, you’re beautiful as you are.”
“Ouch, stop pestering a disable man,” Shiro laughs, and Keith rolls his eyes a little, but he’s smiling.
Then, he returns serious. “First, Pidge didn’t want you with him,” he nods at the door, “because he doesn’t have to see you, but now he does, so maybe you’d like to take care of him?”
Shiro seems to think about it. “No, I feel it’s better if you stay with him. Atlas needs me a lot, and you took some free time for this.” He smirks. “Also, I don’t need a constant remainder I’m an old timer.”
“You were an old timer in the past too,” Keith jokes. “But fine, it’s not like he’s a problem for me.”
“I’m just sorry you got distracted from your job.”
“Not a big deal,” he shrugs. “Acxa can take care of it for a little while.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Shiro places a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “And I’m going to envy my past self a lot, for all the time he’ll spend with you.”
“We will amend that,” Keith promises.
Shiro nods, but there’s a little, sad smile on his face. He leaves the room without adding anything else. Keith looks at the main door of the room for a couple of second, thinking back at how much he misses Shiro and his company and that’s the real reason he doesn’t even thing about when he accepted to take care of the past Shiro.
Then, with a last sigh, he opens the door of the bedroom.
Past Shiro sits on the bed, and he looks pretty upset, a rare sight in Shiro’s face since he definitely prefers to hide thing. And, in fact, as soon as he sees Keith, he tries to smile and put up a brave face. Kosmo – the little shit – is still nowhere to be seen, but instead Calypso is there, and she’s letting Shiro petting her withe, short fury, As an Hirs cat, she’s bigger than Terrar cat, her tail is longer and he has two pointing ending, as well as two pointing ears and red eyes. She seems at ease with Shiro as much as Shiro seems at ease with her, but she makes a huffing sound when Keith comes near and leaves the room, disappearing thanks to her chameleonic abilities.
It’s not like she doesn’t like Keith, it’s more that she knows that Keith prefers remaining alone with Shiro if possible, and she respects that. She’s a lot more considerate than more humans.
“Hey,” he whispers, sitting down next to Shiro in the bed. “I heard you have quite the adventure.”
He nods. “I’m sorry.”
“It was the wolf’s fault. But probably he thinks he’s helping.” He chuckles a little. “He’s a very smart wolf, you know.”
“Yeah, but it would have nice if he would warn me about… me being like that.” There’s something in Shiro’s voice that Keith can’t pin up exactly.
“What did you scared the most?” he asks. “The white air? The captain’s title?”
After a biting of his lips, Shiro answers, “the prosthetic.” And then he covers his face with his hands. “I’m horrible, am I?”
Keith passes an arm on Shiro’s shoulders. It’s strange, consoling him like that. It’s not like he hasn’t ever be a support for Shiro in moment of distress, or that he takes him in his arms, but this is different. Their relationship is different because this Shiro is unknown to Keith, in a sort. But it’s still Shiro, so he’s going to give him all the support.
“Why did it scare you?”
“I… don’t know?” Shiro answers, at last. “I mean, I fear all my life the moment my body will fail me, and I was prepared to that.” He grabs his right arm. “But seeing it, seeing the effect of it… was terrible. And yet, even with that prosthetic, he’s the Captain of this huge ship, he did what I want to do in my life… and he seems such a different person from me that I thought that I’m not able to become like him… the future is really scaring me a lot right now.”
“Listen,” Keith hugs Shiro a little more. “The future is scaring for everyone. The Shiro you saw… he went thought a lot. And a lot of shitty things, to say at least. He became what he is because of them. Of course you’re not like him, for now. But right here,” and he points at Shiro’s heart. “You have everything you need. I know, I’ve see it.”
Shiro releases a little smile, he seems more at ease now. “So I was right about the fact you know me.”
“I thought it was pretty obvious at this point.”
“Yeah, but… you two sounded pretty closed.” He blushes a little. “How did we meet?” And then, at Keith frowns, he adds “What? I heard you. You’re going to cancel my memory, so at this point there is no difference in what I know, right?”
“Fair enough,” Keith smiles. “We met because I stole your car.”
“What?”
“Yep.” Keith is pretty satisfied of that genuine surprise on Shiro’s face, and the way it’s probably going to distract him a little about how Shiro became the man he is today. “But I feel you will be more interesting in this, instead of old stories…”
He leaves the bed and presses a button next to the window. The rolling shutter lifts up, revealing all the beauty of the space right behind it. The colors, the star, the endless void of the universe. Shiro releases a small gasp, and walks towards the window with careful, calculated steps. Then, he places his hand on the window and all his composure faded, mouth and eyes wide opened like a child in front of a sweet shop.
“I don’t recognize the stars,” he whispers a lot.
“Because we’re very far from Earth,” Keith replies. “That’s how far you’ll go, Shiro.”
With the authorization of the woman named Pidge (despite her complains about having more work to do now that definitely they will have to cancel Shiro’s memory) Shiro can wander around the ship – whose name is Atlas, he found out.
He can’t do it alone, more because Keith and the others want to avoid him to be bothered by the crew, who was informed about his presence and it was definitely interested at meeting a young captain, especially the alien part of the crew. But they respect the captain’s order to stay away.
Pidge and the other people called “the paladins” are is usually chauffeur. He likes Pidge, she remembers a lot her brother, and he likes Hunk, who’s kind and he cooks pretty well, even if he doesn’t approve Shiro’s taste (“you haven’t change in that”). He does like Lance too, but sometimes he’s too extra for Shiro to bear with him (“I can’t believe, you used to be my hero, you know? Now I can be your hero”).
He also meet some other people like the MFEs pilot, Slav (he doesn’t like it a little bit, and decides that he’s going to fire him as first thing), Acxa and the Holt family.
Keith is obvious the person Shiro spends more time, and he enjoys less talking about the past an more about the universe and the races they met. Shiro doesn’t press much about his relationship with his future self, even if he’s dying of curiosity. But he can refrain himself, being happy that he’s friend with the gorgeous man.
Yet, the more he talks with other, the more he realizes that maybe Keith doesn’t want to talk about Shiro because they’re too much involved. Every single person around talks about Shiro and Keith like an inseparable pair. Pidge and Hunk reveals him things about their period as Paladins (apparently, they fought into a interplanetary war that makes Star Trek looks like child play), and Shiro and Keith’s names are always together.
Future Shiro is almost never around, apparently he has a lot of things to do because he’s also an Earth Ambassador, but Shiro notices the way he speaks with other and the way he speaks with Keith, the way he touches him as many time as possible, the prosthetic arm that wanders like a shadow against Keith’s back, as scared of that touch.
At first, Shiro is a little bit jealous, because of course a man like Keith isn’t single, and of course he isn’t going to look at a kid like Shiro, who, by the way, came from the past. But then he realizes is basically jealous of himself, and that is stupid.
Then it starts the dreams, in which Shiro imagines his future self as he touches the naked body of Keith (who Shiro has seen in details, and the dream are pretty vividly about it), especially in the way the metal finger dig in Keith’s ass, they caresses and presses the butt cheeks and the way Keith moans under that touch.
Some days is very hard to look at Keith or future Shiro.
And one day that Lance is even more chatty than usual, blabbering about the beautiful alien princess he was in love with, and how they were in love, and how she sacrificed herself to save the galaxy, Shiro dares to ask, “and what about Shiro and Keith?”
Lance blinks. “Shiro and Keith what?” he asks. “Keith is too serious for a love story.”
“But…” Shiro mutters, surprised. “Aren’t they together?”
“Shiro and Keith?” Lance laughs. “God, no. They’re like, best friends, brothers-in-arm, thing like that.”
He seems so sure, Shiro doesn’t correct him about the fact that often in the past brothers in arm is something about being in the closed.
“Now I’m never going to leave the imagine from my head,” Lance complains. “Keith and Shiro together!”
Yet, Shiro doesn’t believe to be wrong. He may have changed, and future Shiro surely faced things Shiro can’t even imagine, but the way he speaks and acts with Keith… Shiro isn’t sure he’s going to look like that with someone he’s not in love with.
“Also, Shiro is engaged and he’s going to get married very soon.”
The day before Shiro’s return in his timeline, Keith brought Shiro on a trip with his space ship. It has been beautiful, and Shiro is enthusiastic. Keith is happy in seeing that face, and he wonders how much different Shiro’s life will be if he Keith, somehow, changes his past to avoid him any suffering. But he knows very well that Shiro doesn’t like to be protected in that way, and he swore to never do that.
“Have fun?”
“Yes,” and his eyes are brighten.
“I’m glad. But now we have to return, because Pidge will kill us if tomorrow will be late.”
Shiro nods, and remains silent in all the way to Keith’s room. Then, once there, he ignores the wolf’s ask for cuddling, and says, very serious, “why aren’t you and this Shiro together?”
“Why…” Keith blinks. “Why we should be together?”
“Because you’re made for each other! I heard people talking about you, the way they did… you’re a perfect match.”
Shiro’s words are re-opening a wound on Keith’s heart he isn’t going to face, so he decides to attack back, since he notices sometimes the way Shiro looks at him. Keith used to look at Shiro in that way back at the Garrison, little a little puppy with a big crush.
Well, at least there’s a Shiro with a little crush on him.
“It’s sweet of you, but are you sure you’re not telling me this because you like me a little bit?”
Shiro’s face redness entirely and he swallows. “No,” he manages to say at last. “I’m telling about what people told me. Like the way you kept searching for Shiro in the entire universe when everyone else thought he was dead, and then you found him.”
Again, Keith believes to have accepted it, but it still hurts like a bitch. “Shiro is the most important person in the universe, but it doesn’t mean we have to be together.”
“But you love him.”
“I do,” Keith admits. “But he doesn’t, so…” He shrugs. “His friendship is enough for me.”
Shiro frowns. “Why are you sure he doesn’t?”
“Well, he’s engaged with another person, it looks like a big clue for me. I’m definitely not his type, too. He goes more for dark skinned man who are taller and buffer than me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Listen, Shiro…” He really doesn’t have the strength to face any bit of hope.
“No. I know myself, and I can’t be changed so much. You’re gorgeous, Keith. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Damn, I’m having erotic dreams about you and your wonderful ass since the first day I arrived here.” He blushes, and then shrugs, even if he looks on the ground. “After all, I’m going to forget all this, even the second hand embarrassment I’m feeling right now.”
As much as he knows it’s wrong, Keith can’t help but feeling happy. He doesn’t even dare to wish that Shiro will say those things to him and yet here he is. Sure, a smaller, younger version of him, but at that point Keith is ready to take everything.
“And would you like to taste it?” Keith asks, and Shiro’s eyes bulges, and his cheeks become even redder, but a grin appears on his lips.
“Yes.”
“Even if you won’t remember it?”
“I will remember it, I swear,” Shiro replies. “I will forget anything but not this.”
Keith may even believe it, for a second.
The day of his departure, Shiro wakes up before Keith. He smiles at his naked, sleeping body, as his gaze slips around the curve of his back and ends up with the juicy ass, and Shiro can still feel the sensation of that incredible meat under the pressure of his finger. Despite everything, he’s sure he’s not going to forget it.
He stands up, he washes fast, trying to avoid waking up Keith, and leaves the room. At this point, he knows the Atlas well enough that can walk around and find the place he’s interesting it, in this case the captain’s office. Captain Shirogane’s there, of course: he isn’t early, and he usually he starts working before seven.
“Oh, hey,” he greets Shiro, with an embarrassed smile. It’s clear a problem for him to face his past self. “Can I help you for something? Pidge has problems with her machine?”
“Not that I know,” Shiro replies gently. “But I wanted to tell you something before leaving.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” Future Shiro says, with a soft, encouraging smile, even if there is a little bit of surprise behind his grey eyes.
“I think Keith’s gorgeous and he has an incredible pretty ass.”
“Okay…”
“And I ate his ass all night yesterday.”
This time, he doesn’t wait for a reply, he turns around and leaves, faster than he wants to, but he said what he wanted and he doesn’t need Future Shiro to stop him and complain. When he reaches Pidge’s laboratory, he’s ready.
“Here you are!” Keith is already there. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
Shiro blushes a little, and he wonders if Keith is better at hiding his feelins. “Sorry, I had to do something alone. Can we start?”
“Of course.” Pidge calls for him. Shiro notices Hunk behind the machine, focused on calibrate some caves together. “Please, enters inside the machine. Now, if everything go according to plan, and it will, you’ll wake up back on the flight simulator with no memories of your time here.”
“What if it doesn’t happen?” Keith asks.
“Well, the time line will be completely destroyed and we probably won’t be here having this conversation.”
“It won’t happen,” Hunk assures them.
“It’ll be fine,” Shiro says. He’s already inside the machine, and he’s still looking directly to Keith. “But I won’t forget you, I promise.”
Keith gives him a small, soft smile, as the door of the machine closes. Then the machine trembles, and a light invests Shiro. He falls on the ground, scared, he lost consciousness, and then he hears a voice calling him…
“Shiro!”
He blinks, and he sees Adam’s face upon him. He looks around, a little confused, and he realizes he’s in a bed in the Garrison’s infirmary.
“What happened?” he asks Adam.
“Lieutenant Fokker found you inside the flight simulator, passing out,” Adam explains. “Iverson wanted to be mad at him for breaking the rules, but he was more worried because you didn’t wake up. The nurse thinks you’re stressed out about your promotion… are you okay?”
“Yes…” Shiro presses a hand on his head and tries to remember. Yes, he went to the flight simulator, he tries it, and… he doesn’t remember much, but he has a clear vision of a naked body, even if he can’t see the face, and doesn’t recognize it… but he has an incredible nice ass, that is for sure.
Well, Shiro isn’t going to tell Adam that the only thing that remembers about his passing out is an erotic dream.
“Did you have sex with my past self?”
Of all the things Keith expect Shiro to ask him, that isn’t one of them. And Keith isn’t very good at lying normally, and he’s sure the surprise has already reveal everything Shiro needs to know. Still, he asks.
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Because my past self told me this morning,” Shiro says, and this time Keith can see the hint of amusement in his gaze. “He said, and I’m quoting, that you have a wonderful ass and he ate it all night.”
The truth of it hits Keith hard, and he’s sure he’s blushing hard right now, still he minimizes. “We can agree he’s been a lot with me. Maybe he got a little bit jealous? You’re not an easy man to be confronted to.”
“You said he lied?” Shiro raises an eyebrow.
“No, I’m asking why you believed him.”
“Because he’s me, and I would have done the same thing,” Shiro confesses with a smirk. “And you should know, too, that I’m not as kind as all people made me to be, and I get a lot competitive. Maybe love and sex is not something I’m used to compete for, but yeah. I can see it.”
Despite everything, Keith laughs. “Sorry, but I’ve never thought to see you get competitive with a younger version of you about my ass. You have to admit, it’s pretty weird.”
“Do you think what’s weirder?” There is a malevoulus grin on Shiro’s face, as he comes closer. Keith isn’t scared (he could never, he wasn’t even when Shiro was about to kill him), so he tilts his head a little, curious by his act. “That I now remembers your ass. I guess Pidge’s machine worked, but my younger self managed to retain what he thought it was the most memorable thing, and now I know about it because the time line aligned. I remember your ass, and I remember wondering if it was only a dream or I’m going to meet someone with that ass.”
And then he grabs Keith’s hips, with the finger that sink in the softness of Keith’s ass, and the gesture takes Keith’s breath away, in a way that he releases a soft, slow moan and he leans more towards Shiro.
“It’s more weirder that I have to sleep with a younger you for you to find out this.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” Shiro says, but he’s distracted, he’s opening Keith’s belt. “I didn’t sleep with you when you were eighteen.”
“And that was your loss,” Keith answers, his finger digging inside Shiro’s white hair. “I would have glady fuck you when I was eighteen.”
“Damn,” Shiro mutters under his breath. “I can’t believe my younger self has to sleep with you for me to finally doing this.”
Keith laughs and moans together as Shiro’s hand rubs his dick a little. “I can’t believe this either. And I can’t believe you don’t ever remember it.”
“I’m going to amend this right now.”
And Keith finds himself against the wall of his room, hands on the wall next to his face, his pants at his ankles, as Shiro kneels in front of his back, his hands that keeps him firm, both thumb dug in Keith’s butt cheeks as he kisses and sucks it.
“You…” Keith moans. “You’re engaged…”
“Not anymore,” Shiro replies, snapping a little his tongue before kissing a butt cheek again. “I left Curtis this morning. I couldn’t risk forget about this again.”
At this, Keith is left speechless, and can’t do nothing but focus on Shiro’s movements. Different from his younger self, that was eager and fast, Shiro takes all his time, putting Keith at the edge without letting him come, and yet stimulating his inside his ass with just his mouth and tongue. In the end, Keith comes just against the wall of his room with a loud scream.
“Damn,” Shiro breathes again. “My younger self, was right, your ass is amazing, I want to worship it all my life.”
Keith blushes hard again. It’s an ass able to destroy the time line and also a memory loss. “It looks like a proposition,” he tries to joke.
“It is,” Shiro says, this time serious.
“Damn,” Keith fells, on the ground next to him, still half naked. “I would never believe I have to say that, what an ass!” -
.
When she was a child, her mother brought her often to see the stars.
From their little shack in the desert, it was easy to look at an endless blue sky, without the light of the city, and she pointed to Allura all the constellation that she knew.
“Your father is right there,” she said, pointing to a casual point in the scar.
As a child, Allura thought she meant he was an angel, or an astronaut, a great space explorer, that would come back with his space ship to brinng Allura together with him ina space adventures. It was only when she started the school that she realized that what her mother truly meant was that his father had died.
But apparently reality was even worse: his father left them both.
Yet, she was always lured by the star, by the endless bright points so far and so bright upon her, maybe because the child fantasy about his father has pushed her in that direction.
From that point of view, the Galaxy Garrision has been the obvious choice as high school for Allura.
Apparently, not for her mother: after talking so much about the star, suddendly she looks scared about the actual possibility of Allura going to space. They fought, she begged her and screamed about it, but Allura was stubborn.
“You brought me there,” she accused her mother. “You made me believe my father was a space explored. But I won’t leave you like he did.”
In the end, his mother agreed, but “only if you managed to get a scolarship”.
She did. She got the best grade in the entire first year and she’s welcomed like a new promise of the Garrison together with a nice boy named James Griffin.
It was only when she entered in class for the first lesson that she realized: I’m going to become a pilot and I’m going to go to space.
She didn’t know yet how much right she is.
Galaxy Garrison isn’t bad for a school. Teachers are strict and they pretend a lot for students, but Allura isn’t scared by their methods. She studies hard, and she always gets on their right side. She’s pretty popular with both students and professors, even if sometimes she’s so harsh on herself that the others admires her only by far.
Her rivaly with Griffin is an amicable one, and she suspects in many occasion he may likes her. After all, she realizes pretty soon biys like her a lot (he has expecially an obxius suitor named Serrano than isn’t even on his class, even if apparently he declares himself James’ rival), but she’s too focused on her career to care about dating at the moment. For some reasons, all the boys around look too immature for her, and that caused him some problems with both boys and girls jealous of her popularity.
Allura is popular but alone. She has some friends – James, Ina, Hunk – but overall she is so focused on her dream she doesn’t spend much time with them.
Then, the Kerberos accident happens.
Allura doesn’t know well the people that died in that accident – he knows by name Takashi Shirogane, of course, everyone know him in the Galaxy Garrison, and he also attended some of her flight lessons, and they spoke something, just nice words about Allura’s talent as a pilot and how to cultive it.
Yet, the entire accident shakes the Garrison on the ground. “Pilot error,” they called it, and they makes it aver more scarier. If even the best pilot the Garrison has ever seen can make error, and can die, in the space alone, how can they succeed?
For the first time in his life, Allura is scared by space.
Luckily for her, the month after the Kerberos accident is also the moment Pidge Gungerson enters in her life. She doesn’t like him in a romantic sense, but Pidge turns out to be like her – a loner. She sees her in classes, in the way he fails the test when he looks instead so focus in something else entirely, and without even realizing she becomes her friend.
Pidge is diffident at first, but it’s clear he needs friends too, allied. That’s the reason he reveals her, once, the fact that he’s investigating on the Kerberos’ accident, because he doesn’t believe it was a pilot error at all. He isn’t sure they were aliens abducting the crew or something else, but they may be still alive.
It’s not like Allura truly believe her, he’s been there once as a child and he stopped, but she finds herself interested on her investigation, they give her a sort of normalcy, a hope that maybe being a pilot isn’t so dangerous a sit seems, t ogive her back her dreams.
She was wrong, of course, being a pilot is fucking dangerous, especially if you pilot in a space war against an evil empire that wants to conquer the universe.
It’s only then, when Allura finds herself there, following a space prince with magic in his hands, a piloting a Red Lion that can combined with other four, alongside with the only and one Takashi Shirogane and even his annoyed suitor Serrano, that Allura finds out that Pidge is actually a girl.
But this is a story for another time, because in space Allura finds something that, after all, has been searched for long: the truth about his father.
She’s right alla long after all: he was a space explorer.
Allura considers helself a smart girl. Not spar as Pidge, of course, maybe not even as Hunk, but smart enough to realize that two if Ulaz said that the symbol on his sword is the symbol of the Blades of Marmora, and she has a knife very similar to his with the same symbol, well, that knife must be a Galra’s one.
Why she has it, that’s the problem.
It’s a present from his father, the only thing he left behind. With a shiver, Allura realizes a valid hypotesis is that is father is Galra (the good side of Galra, at least) and he went to Earth for… looking for the Blue Lion, maybe? Yes, and the he left again to tell his comrades about it. By Shiro’s telling, Ulaz knew about the Blue Lion, so it can be.
But there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want to believe she’s truly part alien, and even worse part alien of a group of space nazi. So maybe his father was killed by the Galra, or maybe he was kidnapped by the Galra, and the knife wasn’t his own, it was of one of the people that attacked him, and he managed to disarm them.
It’s definitely another valid explanation.
Yet, she can’t negate, not even to herself, that the knife is Galra, and that may be the reason Zarkon is finding them so easily recently. Pidge proposed the Black Lion, and prince Keith himself: Allura can’t bring herself to confess, but deep inside she’s scared to be guilty.
She needs to prove it first. So one night she put on her paladin armor, takes something or her belongings, and goes to the hangar to take one of the pods.
She’s about to get on, when a voice from behind calls for her.
“Allura? What are you doing here?”
She falls behind, slipping outside the pod for the surprise. Two arms appears between her and the ground, stopping her fall.
“Prince Keith…” She blushes a little and she jumps from his arms. “What are you doing here?”
He licks his lips, his glare serious as usual. “I have to verify I’m not the only one Zarkon’s tracking,” he admits. “Kolivan wouldn’t let me do this, but I have.”
Allura understands him very well. “Then let me come with you.”
“You?”
“Why not?” she smiles. “It must be lonely around in space, with the fear of Zarkon appearing at every moments. And I’m a good pilot, I can help.”
“That’s true,” he admits. He narrows his eyes to look at her: in that moment, he doesn’t have the Terran aspect he takes from time to time to put them at ease, and his violet eyes seems able to look directly at her soul. “You were about to do the same thing.”
“Me?” She’s about to lie, to try to find an excuse, but at what point? “Yes. I fear I may be the one Zarkon’s tracking.”
“Why?” He blinks. “You’re just a Terran like the others.”
She knows he doesn’t mean to look insulting, so she just sighes. “Well, this only Terran kept up with Zarkon one to one while we’re saving you last time.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says immediately. “Just, I can’t find a good reason why you should be the track towards Zarkon.”
“It’s just a feeling, okay? Call it a woman’s intuition.” She turns and throws her bag on the pod. “We want to lose much time more, or we’re leaving.”
“Let’s go.”
He lets her drive, something Allura appreciates because she gives her a sense of power, a sense she has a hand on the situation and that she isn’t prey of the events. It’s night when they leave, so they have some hours before the others notice their disappearance.
They remain in silence for a while: Prince Keith, she knows, he’s prefectly fine with the quiet. She saw them sometimes in the dark of the deck, sometimes alone, sometimes with Kolivan or Shiro, without talking, just look at the space around them.
But she’s tensed, and she needs to vent that tension somehow.
“What do you think about the Blade of Marmora?” she asks.
Kolivan has been pretty critical about them (it doesn’t seem they manage to do much, since Zarkon is always stronger), and he also fears that trusting a Galra may led to something dangerous, just like the fact that Krolia trusted Zarkon brought demise on Altea. Prince Keith was a little more caution, trusting a little more Shiro’s intuition in that, but he doesn’t seem he likes the Blade at all.
“I really would prefer not counting on them,” he says, after a moment of personal reflection, at the point Allura thought he hasn’t hear the question. “But the truth is that we need allies to defeat Zarkon. Voltron may be the only hope of the universe, but the Castle and all its informations are centuries old, and I’m pretty sure Galra’s technology developed during this time. Let’s aside the fact that, except Shiro, you all don’t have any real experience in fighting or piloting, so there’s that.”
She restrains a bad answers about them being unesperience. Again, she’s pretty sure Keith doesn’t mean it in a bad way, but it’s pretty pratical in his thought, and he made clear since moment one that there was a reason the Lions choose them, but that doesn’t change the fact they’re just cadets, with no knowledge of the universe. And it is true after all.
“So, the Blades may be our chance,” Keith finishes, “because they should have what we lack: knowledge of Zarkon’s empire. I don’t like them, but we all need to put aside out problems for the greater good.”
“You don’t like them because they’re Galra?”
He doesn’t answer.
“You don’t think there could be good Galra?” she presses. She has to know if he will see her differently.
“That’s not it,” he says. He takes a long breath. “I know, deep down, that they’re good people. They are fighting against their own, because they think it’s right. It’s probably hard for them.”
“And Ulaz sacrificed his life for us.”
“That too.” A shadow passes on his eyes. “But I can’t help it, every time I saw a Galra I think back at what I lost, my mother, my people… my home. It’s not their fault, but I can’t see them.”
She doesn’t find the word to reassure him.
They both get a talk when they’re back. Allura has never seen Kolivan so angry, and he definitely has a very scary face in that moment. Prince Keith looks a little bit regretful, but Kolivan’s attitude brought him to answer back and efendi their choice. It’s only when Shiro speaks about it, that he finally gives up and accepts he’s been a reckless thing, even if it’s the same decision that confirmed that not Allura neither him are what Zarkon’s tracking.
Allura just apologizes for the decision. She’s tired, she piloted a lot and she even remained in the space floating until Red came in his aid, so she didn’t want to argue more, especially not with Shiro. She just wants to sleep a little.
“Allura,” Lance calls her for behind when she’s about to enter in her room.
“What?” she snaps. She’s harsh, but she’s tired and she definitely doesn’t find about beraring Lance’s shameless bad flirting, or not even his jealousy because she went alone with Prince Keith (apparently, Lance took it like a romantic trip, like she has time to be romantic during a space war, when she hasn’t even had a boyfriend back at Garrison.
Instead, he looks at her serious. “What’s the problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s something wrong to you, since the day we met Ulaz,” Lance continues. “It may sounds a little creepy, but I look at you a lot.”
“It’s creepy,” she confirms, even if she’s a little impressed he has enough sensibility to see her discomfort during those past days.
“But I’m not the only one that noticed that,” Lance continues, even if his cheeks become a little pink, sign he was embarassed by his attics. “Pidge is worried too. You two… well, you used to be closed at Garrison, and she even revealed you about her researches, but now she felt you’re getting far from her, and she doesn’t under stand the reason.”
“She told you that?”
“Pidge is also my friend, you know. But the point is that we’re worried about you. Maybe Shiro doesn’t notice because he’s too focused on Prince Charming, but we did.”
She takes a deep breath. “Come inside.” His face brightens suddendly, and she feels the need to glare at him and clarifies, “don’t get strange ideas.”
“I won’t. Of course I won’t!”
Inside the room, he’s dark, and Lance jumps around, not sure how to settle down. Allura turns on the light and sits down on the bed. Then, she rummages below her pillow, and takes off the knife.
“You sleep with a knife behind your pillow? Sexy.”
She ignores him. “It was my father’s. I never met him.”
“Oh, I’m really sorry…”
“It’s okay.” She shrugs. “The problem is the symbol.” She taps on the hilt of the knife, and Lance comes closer to observe it. He frowns, so she tells him, “Ulaz has a blade with the same symbol.”
“You mean…” Lance’s eyes widen. “It’s a Galra blade?”
“I think so. And it may not be the only Galra thing around.”
This time, Lance is faster to read between the lines. “Oh, no. No way.”
“But why not? I didn’t know my father, and to be honest, by the way my mother spoke about him, he could be an alien. And he had a Galra knife.”
“Yeah, but Galra are like…” He makes a gesture with his arms to indicate broadness, “big, furry and scary. You’re beautiful.”
“When Prince Keith turned into a Galra at the facility, he wasn’t so furry, and he looks a lot more human that some other Galra like Sendak.” She ignores his snort at Keith’s mention. “So that may be the reason why I look entirely human.”
“Maybe,” he agrees. “But Allura… you know this doesn’t change anything, right?”
She doesn’t believe it, but smiles, appreacing the thought. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“But…”
“For now. Please.”
She can’t really say why she decided to tell Lance about her secret, maybe it was the need to tell someone before exploding, and Lance was there in the right moment, or maybe since his obvious overexageratting crush on her, he wouldn’t judge her. Or maybe he would stop to pester her if he knows she’s Galra.
Whatever her reasons was, it turns out to be a good idea. Since that moment, Lance stops with his flirting, and tries to be good friend, including her in his attacks alonside with Hunk, and tries to return her a little bit of normalcy with Pidge.
And, she finds out, she has a good allies in him.
“I think you should bring Allura with you,” Lance says, once the Blade of Marmora ordered that only two people can access to their bases. “Out of our four, she’s the best pilot.” And he throws a look at Prince Keith, like to challenge him to answer.
He doesn’t, but Allura suspects it’s because he knows that Kolivan wouldn’t never allow him to enter only with Shiro in a Galra base, even Galra allies.
“It’s a good idea,” Shiro says. “We’ll be careful.”
So they take the Red Lion, and Allura pilots them inside the base, who is not only hide between two black hole, but even behind the ground of the asteroid, in a underground secret bases. They were welcomed by all masse guard just like Ulaz.
“Welcome, welcome!” A man with a cheerful voice exclaims to them. He taks off his mask, revealing a long orange fur, who looks like two mustaches under his nose. “I’m Coran, the leader of the Blade of Marmora.”
“Nice to meet you,” Shiro says. “I’m Shiro and this is Allura, we’re Voltron Paladins.”
“We know about you. It’s a pleasure for me.” He shakes both of his hand vigorously.
“You also know it was Ulaz that brought us here,” Shiro says, a little overwhelming.
“Oh, yes, I know.” Coral murmurs with grieve voice. “A dear loss for us. He will be missed. But I’m glad he brought you here.”
“We’re glad too,” Shiro says, a little sad. “For this reason, I hope we can become allies in this war against Zarkon.”
“We can talk about this later,” Coran says, and his smile looks a little bit menacing now. “But first, we need to settle something.” And he turns towards Allura. “You don’t have anything to say, young lady?”
She feels the gaze of everyone, including Shiro, upon her. With tremule hand, she puts her hand on her back and takes off the knife. Shiro frowns at the sight, while the others around start whispering to themselves.
“It’s one of our blades,” a voice says.
Coran takes the knife out of Allura’s blade and esamines it, passing it around his hands and looking at it from various angles. “This is definitely one of our blades,” he confirms. “Where did you steal it, young lady?”
“I didn’t,” she says immediately. “It was my father.”
“And where did he steal it?”
“He-” she starts, but then stopped. He has no idea where his father took the knife, so she has no chance to defend him, and to be honest his father didn’t ear her defence. “I don’t know. I never met him.”
“You may under stand, young lady, that this is a big violation of our trust,” Coran murmurs. “We asked you to come unarmed, and you’re here with a knife, and one of our own.”
She hasn’t the courage to look at Shiro. “Yes, and I apologize for this. But I need answers. I need to know why my father had one of your knife, and why it was on Earth.”
“She’s lying,” the same voice of previous says.
“Come on, let’s not jump to conclusion.” Coran hums to himself. “Surely we can give a Voltron Paladin the benefit of the doubts. But we don’t have answers for you, young lady.”
“Oh.” She’s disappointed.
“The Blades of Marmora have only a way to get answers, the Trial of Marmora. Knowledge or death.”
At that sentence, Shiro intervenes for the first time. “No. Allura, let it go. We’re here for an alliance, and you’re a paladin, you can’t risk your life for this.”
“You’re right, Shiro,” she says, “but I need to know. I can’t go on without knowing the truth.”
At the end, Shiro agrees. “But I’m going to stop it if it become too dangerous,” he warns her.
She doesn’t know if Shiro ever does that, or if the trial ends naturally and she wins or she loses.
The trial is confusiong, and she doesn’t know if she takes the right decisions, or if she’s just falling into despair. She doesn’t know even what he’s searching exactly.
At first, she fights the other blades, because she thinks that surronding the blade isn’t the right thing to do. The fights become harder and harder, and she’s so tired than at a certain point she almost decide sto give up the blade and resign, but then she sees an escaping room and she finds it.
Then, in the next room, she sees James Griffin. She’s so tired at that point that she doesn’t even ask herself what the hell he’s doing into a rebel Galra base. He looks like he remebers him, with his cadet uniform and the shit-eat grin. But he’s here to remember her what she lost – the popularity of being the best pilot of the Garrison, the popular girl everyone envy and everyone want to imitate.
“You can be that girl again,” James says. “Do you really want to know about your ancestors? What good could you bring?”
“I need answers.”
“For what?” James says. “To give you a reason for becoming that? You’re better than thatm, better than a woman that thinks he can save the universe alone. Not knowing is the best answer.”
“Because you won’t like the answer,” Allura realizes. Being a Galra isn’t a mark of pride, those time, and she definitely won’t be the popular girl anymore. Better be the orphan that the daughter of a Galra. “But I don’t care about it. I’ll keep do what I believe even if I’m Galra.”
“I wonder if they let you,” is James’ last remark before disappearing.
And then Allura is back at home, in his shackles, with his mother. She has to know about his father, after all she met him! She saw him!
And then she realizes she left her mother. Her mother didn’t want for her to go to Garrison because she feared Allura would have followed his father’s step, and, even if unwillingly, she did. She’s now in the space, and her mother doesn’t know.
“Welcome back, Allura,” her mother smiles at her.
“Mom… I’m so sorry,” Allura murmurs. “Leaving you… has never been my intention.”
“I know. Of course I know.” Rationally, Allura should under stand that woman isn’t really her mother, yet she can’t feel to recognize so. “You’re just like your father.”
“I need answers, mom. Who was my father? Was he Galra?”
Her mother shakes her head. “You already know that.”
“I don’t. I have suspects, but… please tell me.”
“I tell you and then what? You’ll just leaving, following him,” her mother says. “And I’ll be alone.”
She closes her eyes. “I’m sorry, mom. But you’re right. If my father is a rebel Galra fighting the Galra empire, then I won’t mindto be like him.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“Then I’ll make my own path,” Allura says. “My father won’t create my path.”
“Then the answer is yes. Your father was Galra.”
She knows Shiro’s there helping her standing up.
“Did I make it?” she murmurs, as her vision put Shiro’s face into focus.
“I think so? It has been all very confusing,” Shiro smiles. “But you’re safe and at the moment it’s the only thing that matters.”
“Congratulations, young lady!” Coran’s high-pitch voice arrive at her ears. “You made it. You should habe your knowledge now.”
“I have?” She nods. “I guess it’s right my father was Galra.”
“Is,” Coran corrects her. “He was still alive the last time I checked. At the moment, he’s undercovering in the last quadrant of the universe.”
“You know my father?”
Coran smiles softly, then he tilts his head to gesture at her. She looks down, and she sees that now, in her hands, instead of a knife there’s a fully blade, very similar to Ulaz’s one.
“You awoke the blade, something only people with Galra’s blood can do,” Coran says, “but even without it, I recognized that blade. I apologize for not having telling you before, but the Trial was essential for you to accept it.”
She stands up with fatigue, Shiro still helping him. “So who is my father?”
“Alfor is his name,” Coran says, and the other blades bow their head as a sign of respect. “My best friend. He helped me to create the Blade, and he’s a blade himself.”
“Can I meet him?”
“Like I said, he’s undercover, and we can’t contact him. But when we defeca Zarkon, we may.”
Allura nods, a little sad, but ready to accept it. “Do you know I was his daugher?”
“No, and it saddens me.” Coran shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t tell me to protect you, and he’ll probably sad you ended up in thsi war anyway. But I’m pretty sure he’ll be also very proud of you.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. “But I’m not doing this for you.”
“Of course,” Coran smiles. “But now that it’s settled, weren’t you here to talk about an alliance?”
They return to the base with Coran and another Blade named Merla. The others are waiting for them at the hangar, eager to under stand what happened in the base. Allura doesn’t miss the small started gaze Prince Keith does when Coran spots him and immediately kneels in front of him, Merla at his side doing the same thing. Kolivan moves a little bit next to him, as he’s afraid that despite the gesture, the two Galra may attack at every moment.
“Prince Keith,” Coran says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Legends said you are still alive, and we searched for you so long. Now that you and Voltron are back, we have a way to defeca Zarkon.”
Prince Keith’s face lightens up. “For real?”
“Yes. We spend centuries to analize Zarkon’s power and possibilities, and we know we can’t take him down alone, but we have a plan that may, and it involves all of you.”
“So you’re going to help you.”
“Absolutely.” Coran stands up and gestures at Allura with his arm. “I would have done it anyway, but it’s even better now that I know Alfor’s daughter with you.”
Allura finds herself at the center of the attention of everyone, and she feels the need to explain, after a brief look with Shiro, “My father is a Galra Blade working with Coran. He’s not here right now.”
She helds her breath, her eyes fixed on Prince Keith. Kolivan hasn’t move or say anything, but he’s a man with no emotion on his face. Prince Keith is blunt both in his words and his reactions, and in that moment he’s looking at Allura with wide, shocked eyes.
“Do you have a problem with it?” Lance is the first one to move, and he puts himself between Allura and Prince Keith, as to protect her somehow. “This is our Allura, under stand? It doesn’t change anything, and you better accept it.”
Prince Keith frowns. “I think Allura can speak for herself.”
“Yeah, he can, but…”
“Lance, is okay,” Allura says.
“But…” he sighes. “I just want you to know that you’re still my beautiful Allura, okay? It doesn’t change anything.”
“She’s not yours.” Pidge rolls her eyes. “But he’s right. You’re still Allura for us.”
“You were worried about that?” Hunk adds. “I’m glad it’s just that. I mean, it’s weird, true… it’s weird, right?” has asks, around, a sto have some help. “But we love you, Allura.”
She nods, face down, overwhelming for such affection. Then, she finds the courage to look at Prince Keith again. “We talked about it,” she says. “And I hope that sometimes, in the future, you may see me stilla s Allura and not one of my ancestors. I won’t follow their path.”
Prince Keith looks at him intently. “I hope so too, Allura.”
But he turns his head and starts talking with Shiro, and Allura knows that in someway, she can’t escape to what her ancestors are. She has to accept it and prove herself to be different. -
.
At a first look, Shiro seems to be fine. Yes, he's a little pale and the scar on his nose stands even more, a dark red line that cut Shiro's perfect face. But Keith knows better, and it's the strange clothes Shiro's wearing, or the metal arm he has now in place of his human one, and not even the fact that he came back in a strange alien pod. And not even the fact that Shiro, who has always been tall and big, he now seems even taller and bigger, all muscles under that thin purple bluise.
No, it's the small turn of Shiro's smile, the way he murmurs "I'm fine" when clearly he isn't, the way his eyes wander a little before answering, as they are unable to focus on the actual situation.
What all that means, Keith isn't sure.
"I don't have much," he says, as he rasps in the old wardrobe. "But my pa's clothes should be around your size."
With a spuff of clothes, he comes near the bed Shiro still lays down, a little smile on his face.
"Are you sure I can use them?" Shiro asks. "They are your father's...."
"They aren't my size, my pa was bigger than you." Keith shrugs. "Nobody is using them anymore, you know. It's either this or I'm going to throw him out sooner or later."
Shiro doesn't seem convinced by it - and he's right since Keith didn't throw the clothes until now, he didn't throw anything that was his father. Yet, Shiro decides to not argue about it anymore, probably realizing that he would only force Keith to lie more.
"Thank you," he says, and he stands up and he takes the clothes.
For a second, they look at each other as none of them know how to act. There has been more intimacy between them before (not the intimacy Keith wanted, but a simple way to touch and see each other) and now there isn't anymore. Shiro doesn't want to show it, but Keith notices he doesn't want to stay too near.
"Well, I wait you outside," Keith says in the end, with a little smile, and he turns to go out without Shiro stopping him. He closes the door behind him and ignores the look that the others three reserve him.
As the time passes, it seems that Shiro regains some sort of normalcy, gave by the fact he sees himself back with other Terrans, doing something he wants to and he's not prisoner anymore. The touch with Keith returns, and even increases from before, like Shiro is more touch-starved than before. And by the way he lets others touching him too, he's definitely taking a better grip on his body.
Yet, there is only a thing that doesn't improve: Shiro doesn't want to change in front of others. The first time it happened, Keith was more focused on Pidge acting like that, and it was easily explained by the fact she didn't want to reveal her true identity yet. Once she did, her way to stay apart when they wear the paladin armor become normal. Shiro still hasn't a justification for that.
But, even better than Pidge, he's pretty careful to not end up in situation where he has to change in front of others. He still remains with the armor since the morning, ready to pilot if the situation needs it.
Keith doesn't ask.
They are piloting their lions against one of Haggar's robeast. This one isn't strong by itself, but it has a small laser that drains their energy, so sometimes they have to pull down to recover, and this let the robeast time to recover too.
"We don't have a choice," Shiro says. "We need to let it suck our energy, only in that way we may be able to hit him, being so near."
"I don't want to look pessimistc," Hunk says, "but can we hit it if we don't have anymore energy?"
"You are pessimistic," Lance protests.
"I can make a brief calculation," Pidge intervenes. "If I see that our levens decrease over a certain point, I'll warn you so we can pull if off in time."
"Good job. Let's go, then. Keith, are you ready?"
"Always."
Keith presses his bayard inside the lion and the sword appears on Voltron's hand. Voltron flies towards the robeast and immediately they feels they energy being drained from it.
"Don't stop!" Shiro orders, and they don't.
Keith grits his teeth and doesn't falter, one hand still on his bayard and another one on his control panel, as he pushes and pushes. He feels like a pulling, something that tries to make him leave his spot, and he pushes even more, until he feels the sword passing through the robeastt's metal body and then exploding in the space in thousand piece.
As the others around cheer for their victory, Keith legs himself relaxing to the seat. He looks at the window and instead of the usual space he see from it, he sees the Red Lion, turned into an arm, sword still in its mouth or hand.
But it can't be possible, because he's supposed to be in the Red Lion, not looking from outside. He looks around and realizes he isn't holding the bayard anymore, and his control panel hasn't the red light anymore but a dark shade of purple.
"Guys, I think I have a problem," he says, and he freezes immediately as that's Shiro's voice that comes off his own mouth. The control panel shuts down immediately, as the Black Lion recognizes it isn't Shiro anymore in his cockpit,
"What problem?" Hunk asks immediately.
"I think Keith is right," his own voice comes throught the comms, but of course it isn't Keith speaking.
"Are you talking now in third person, mullet?" Lance asks.
"I'm not Keith," Keith's voice replies.
"Yeah, and I'm an altean prince."
"I'm serious, I'm Shiro."
"And I'm Keith," Keith adds, with Shiro's voice.
"Okay, we definitely have a problem," Pidge comments.
In someway, the Red and the Black Lion are trained by the others inside the Castle. When Keith exits from the cockpit, he finds the others already waiting for him. There's Shiro too. Or Shiro in his body, he guesses? This is so confusing!
Shiro's body is hard to move, he realizes. He's taller and broader than Keith, which means Keith isn't used to see things from that heigh, and also the distance between him and everything else are different. When he lifts his arms to take off the helmet, he notices the metal arm, heavy at his side. He wonders if Shiro is getting used to it better.
"So let make this clear," Lance says. "You're Shiro," and he points at Keith's body, "and you're Keith?"
"Yes, Lance, it's exactly like that," Shiro says tired, and in someway with Keith's voice he sounds even more annoyed about Lance's attict.
"This is so weird..."
"How do you think it could have been happened, Allura?" Pidge asks.
"The only explanation I have," she starts, crosses her arm, "is that the robeast was about to take of all their quintessences and, when it got destroyed, the confusion mixed up them, and they ended up in the wrong body."
"Why only them?" Lance asks. And then he shivers, "I mean, I'm happy it doesn't happy because just imagining the idea of my beautiful soul inside mullet's body..." he stops, as he has a sudden thought. "Or even worse, if Keith ends up in my handsome body...!"
"I guess it's because their two lions were nearer the source of the quintessence stealing machine," Allura says at last, trying to ignore Lance, who is still complain g about other people ending up in his body, and apparently only Shiro's soul will be worthy of it, a sentence with Shiro's answer with a little, embarassed snort that Keith doesn't miss.
So he asks, "It's reversible?"
"It should be, if we create something able to extract and move back the quintessence. But to be truth I haven't see anything like that. I may try to check in my father's researches if I find something about it."
"Please do. This is so weird." Lance throws a look around.
"It's me and Shiro in this situation," Keith says, "the why are you the one freaked out?"
"I'm not freaked out," Lance is outraged by the accusation, "I'm just describing the situation correctly. And I don't want you in. Shiro's body for so long."
"Pidge, do you still have all the calculations from the robeast's signature?" Hunk asks. "Studying them may give us some information about how to recreate a similar machine."
She nods. "I have, but I need time to check them and out an order to them."
"Okay, listen," Shiro says, and it's the first time he speak after the accident. "We're all tired from the battle and a little weirded out about this situation, but we already sees strange things in space. My suggestion is that we all take a break and then tomorrow Allura can check in his papers and Hunk and Pidge can work on built something."
It's incredible how much weigh Shiro can have even if he's speaking inside Keith's body. Everyone listen to him and nod together, agreeing with him.
"This is so strange," Lance repeats. " I've never thought I would have seen mullet gives orders around."
"Well, adapted to it," Shiro replies dry, and he seems a little bit upstanding about the situation than before.
"I'll let you at your rest, then, Paladin," Allura says, and she turns towards Coran, who nods.
"I'll procure you the documents you will need, princess."
They leave for another direction, since their quarters are in a different area than the paladins, while they move towards their room: Lance first, still mumbling under his breath, then Hunk and Pidge, who are already talking about how to out up a machine for the quintessence that may be useful, then Shiro and Keith. Shiro is throwing looks to Keith, from time to time, hoping Keith won't notice; a difficult task, since Keith really keeps his eyes on him.
"It is a little strange," Shiro says, with a little amused smile. "Just like when I thing everything strange that can happen already happened to me."
"I'm really sorry, Shiro."
"It's not your fault," Shiro says immediately, "and between all the bodies, I think I feel mostly comfortable in yours, so, yeah." He smiles again, and this time Keith recognizes his way to hide problems under the rug. "I wonder if with the body we also gain the ability. I wish I can pilot like you for once."
"Shiro-"
"Okay, guys, I'm here and I tell you goodbye," Lance comments, pointing at the door of his room. "Please, wake me up tomorrow when you have make things right, I'll be happy to avoid this weirdness as possible. Also, I'll be busy with my beauty treatment. Bye."
Pidge rolls her eyes. "Can we use him as a cavia?"
"You may, but I'm not sure anyone here will be ready to exchange his body with Lance's" Keith says.
"Ugh," Pidge comments.
"I'm pretty sure also the only body Lance will accept will be Allura's and you know how it'll end up," Hunk says. And, at Pidge's confused look, he adds, "he's probably gonna touch her breast."
"Ugh," she repeats. "No offense, guys, but I'm happy it happened to you two. You can handle this, in your shoes I would have freaked out more. Especially with Lance in the mix."
Strange enough, Shiro doesn't answer to that. Usually, he'll be the first to try and amend their behavior towards Lance. Instead, he just stands here, a little embarrassed. It's Keith then that intervenes, "this situation is strange for everyone. The soon will amend it, the better."
At that point, Shiro nods. "Go to bed."
"You're not my mother," Pidge complains.
"No, but I know you well enough to understand you would like to study your records right now." He smiles at Pidges's annoyed look. "Rest. The records will be there tomorrow, and we will need your brain at 100% for them."
She seems convinced, and both she and Hunk waves their hands before disappearing inside their respective rooms. Keith looks at Shiro.
"So, what we do now?" He asks. "Do you want to sleep in your room? It's not very different from me, I don't have nothing with me..."
"If you don't mind, I prefer sleeping in your room," Shiro says. "I know it should be the contrary but we have a lot of mess in our heads and I feel letting the body correspond to the object can help us out."
"Sure, no problem," Keith says. "After all, it's not like I can put on my clothes now, right?"
He's about to enter in the room, when Shiro stops him again. "Would you like me to help taking off the armor?" He asks. "You aren't used to by body and the arms, so maybe it'll be easy if I give you a hand."
Keith reflects for a little: it's true the metal arm is a big weight on his right side, and the balance of things still a little off because if the height difference, but he's pretty sure he can handle himself. Yet, he looks at Shiro's, at the way he can recognize Shiro's expression on his own face, and he nods.
"That may be a good idea."
Shiro visibly relaxes, and he follows Keith inside the room.
"So, how do you want to do it?" Keith asks. "Maybe I should sit down?"
"No, standing is fine..." his voice trailes off as he realizes that in that condition is definitely too short for that. "Ops, ignore it, sit down please."
Keith obeys and sits on the edge of his bed, and remains silent as Shiro begins his work. His hands move sicure on Keith's body, taking off the armor piece by piece and putting them in order on the ground. Keith really hopes that being in Shiro's body avoid it to have very inappropriate reactions. But luckily the fact that Shiro is in his own body is so strange that Keith can't really think to every thing else.
He stares at Shiro's movement, looking literally at his body as he acts, and he realizes that he dreams about it, he dreams at the idea of taking care of Shiro after a battle, letting Shiro check his wound and everything. But Shiro never allows him, or anyone else for that matter, he just says good bye to everyone and jumps in his room, his armor dirty. And then he comes off with Keith's dad's clothes, or with the clean armor, and he does everything without the help of anyone.
Yet, here he is, helping Keith taking off his armor. Keith doesn't say anything, but it's clear Shiro has a motif behind this course of action, and Keith would feel a little used if this wasn't Shiro, and surely the motive is a right one, or a least one Keith may agree with.
"Turn a little," Shiro says, once he takes off all the armor. "Unless you'd prefer to sleep with you under suit..."
"Not really," Keith says, and he turns a little on the side, his back in Shiro's direction.
"I should inform you I don't have a pajama."
"Me neither. I'm used to sleep with my normal clothes on."
"Oh, okay!" And he seems a little bit happy of that simple knowledge.
He puts down the zip and reveals the skin of the neck and then the bare back, and Keith doubts he's going to have the same desire of kissing that neck. Slowly, he takes off the sleeves, on more side.
"Stay put," he orders, as he stands up to grab the clothes. "Hands up." He let slide first he t-shirt, then the jacket, without even asking Keith for it.
"I think I can do that alone," Keith says, when Shiro moves to take off the under suit from his legs. It's a compromising position even in that condition. Shiro seems a little bit fine with this, an just nods a little. He still takes the pants to pass to Keith once he manages to pull off the under suit. It isn't such a big problem, the way he has to bend down and and pull it off by the edges. Shiro looks at the operation intently, so Keith does it fast as possible.
"Thanks," he says, taking the pants from Shiro's hand. He puts it on and suddenly Shiro seems even more relaxed than before.
"Well, that's it." Even so, Shiro doesn't seem eager to leave. But in the end he says, "goodnight."
"Don't you want a hand too?" Keith asks then."My body is a little bit comfortable, but maybe you can have a nice way to adapt to it?"
Shiro seems to consider the offer for a second, but then nods. "No, thanks, I think I'm fine. Don't worry," he adds with a smile, "I'm going to take nice care of your body." And he winks in a way that make Keith groans inside. He's pretty sure Shiro doesn't mean anything sexual, yet - God, Keith realizes just in that moment that he's really in Shiro's body, he could touch it and caresses it and looks at it in a way he desires for a long time.
But it's not Lance, so it's not going to do that. When Shiro leaves the room with a last goodbye, Keith lies down, cover himself with the sheet and tries to smile,
Of course, the sleep isn't prone to arrive. Keith turns a lot inside the small bed, changes positions, tried to count wold and sheeps, and in the end he resigns at the idea that the body is definitely too different from himself and his own soul is feeling like he had something weighty upon his normal body.
Keith knows he has to sleep because probably he will need all his energy tomorrow, both from Pidge and Hunk's experiments and because they need to be ready if Zarkon attacks again. Yet, he also knows himself good enough to realize if he'll be able to sleep, even with fatigue. This is not the case.
The metal arm emerges from the sheet and Keith, in the dim light if the room, tries to look closer at it. It weights, Keith notices the slow pull it brings to Keith's right shoulder, yet it isn't as heavy as a normal metal arm should be. Keith turns the hand back and forth, and tries to bend the finger, impressed by how much they respond to his movements. Until that moment, he thought it's Shiro able to use it at best.
And as his thoughts go to Shiro immediately, he wonder how it was for Shiro to have that arm all day. There is probably a feeling like Keith's one, to be in a stranger body, to not recognize themselves. Shiro doesn't remember how he gets that arm, but considering it's a weapon and he was a gladiator, it isn't so far fetcher making an hypothesis about it.
Keith also suspects that Shiro may remember it, and just not talking about it, because Shiro is like that he doesn't want other people to see him like a liability, or pity him. Like Keith is scared that people will leave him, Shiro is scared that people will stop him by doing things. Keith just hopes that soon or later, Shiro will realize he can count on Keith just as Keith counts on him.
The urge to pee is becoming unbearable, and Keith realizes that his plan to not pee at all so he won't have to look at Shiro's dick is impossible. With a sigh, he stands up and reaches the bathroom, he turns on the light and takes a look at the water. The metal arm has no sensibility, so maybe it'll be a little different if he touches the dick with it.
With a last sigh he takes down his pants and sits down in the water. For once he forgets about the entire situation thanking the relief he's feeling, and between all the strange thing the alteans invented, the automatic cleaning from the water is something he appreciates, so he doesn't have to clean Shiro's dick.
It's when he stands up to wash his hands, that he notices that Shiro's bathroom doesn't have a mirror. In Keith's one, there is a mirror just over the sink, and another one, bigger and taller, on the opposite side of the shower - apparently alteans love to look at their naked, wet body, or at least Coran said so.
At a first thought, Keith doesn't really pay attention, thinking that maybe Shiro took the unlucky room without mirrors, but a better look reveals the truth. The mirrors were broken. On the metal wall of the ship Keith can still see the boobs of a fist, and it't not hard to imagine the entire scene.
Keith has no doubt Shiro is the one to do that. In his mind, the scene plays in a way Shiro throws the punch with his metal arm, no different how he did with Sendak's pod, the way the mirror cracks like a spider's net, and then Shiro that meticulous takes off every piece and breaks them more, and then throws them in the water, his empty gaze as he flushes the toilet.
At this point, Keith realizes he won't be able to sleep before discovering what Shiro is hiding this time. His action will be a huge violation of Shiro's privacy, but Keith did already something like that when he spied on his private conversation with Sanda and Sam, and he knows sometimes Shiro needed to be push a little bit before being able to confide in others.
In the hallway, there are more rooms than the ones the paladins used. Empty rooms, Keith peeps outside the door of his own, and when he's sure nobody is around, he jumps inside an empty one. It's exactly like the others, only the position the bed is different, and Keith finds the mirrors in the bathroom as they should be.
In the light, he looks at Shiro's facial features. He changed since the Garrison time, the jaws is even more harsh, the scar gives him a badass look, but the little white lock of his hair contributes a restore Shiro's cute appearance. The eyes are still the same, though. Slowly, Keith caresses the mouth and the jaws with the point of his human finger point.
Shiro probably sees himself differently now, but for Keith is always beautiful.
With a deep sigh, Keith takes off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He needs to know what Shiro's trying to hide by not undressing in front of others.
And, there, in the light of the bathroom, he knows.
Shiro's chest is covered in scars.
The most evidently one is the one on the right arm, right where the metal arm is attached. There are whites stripes there, erupting from the metal like sunrise. Keith rubs a little the edge of the metal arm that start a little under the shirt, and wonder how they were made.
But there are others than that. There is a curvilinear serie of point around the left shoulder that looks like a bite of some animals with fangs; one long half moon one on the left hips, definitely a cut or a slash, another one under the chest, a circular one below the abdomen who looks like something that pierced the directly the skin; three horizontal point under the collarbone, like the sign of a trident.
And they are only the most evident ones. The skin is marked basically everything by cuts a bruises,
Some older and fading away, almost invisible, yet Keith doesn't miss them. With a tremble hand, he caresses one of them, sagging the way the skin is little different there, softer.
In Keith's eyes, Shiro is still beautiful. It's Shiro gorgeous self that lures Keith first, and all those scars for Keith are the symbol of Shiro's strength, of Shiro's survival, the way he returned back to Keith.
Yet, it's not hard to imagine how much different those scars are for Shiro, and how much differently he looks at them, and why he doesn't want anyone else looking at him.
Without any look at the mirror, Keith put on the clothes back and returns in his room.
It's Shiro that wakes him up the next morning, and it does surprise Keith more than the fact he actually managed to sleep.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Shiro jokes. "I take it that my body is comfortable?"
"It's soft," Keith agrees. "Why are you here?"
"To help you dressing up," Shiro says. Keith notices he already wears the paladin armor. "I guess you didn't adapt to my body in your sleep, correct?"
"Guess no."
It's an excuse, and a poor one, Keith realizes now. But it isn't going to let Shiro down in that moment, he just nods a legs Shiro doings his things. Shiro does everything until the under suit, then he lets Keith helping him with the rest of the armor.
"I don't consider you unable," he says. "It's just a strange situation, and we need to help each other."
"Sure." Keith appreciates a lot that Shiro is still trying to make him feel better, or at least trying to avoid that his behavior is misinterpret by Keith in a bad way.
They join the other at the breakfast, where Pidge and Hunk are discussing deeply about the way to create the machine, and they seem in disagreement about the design of it. Lance is grumbling on himself, sad that he's excluded by the conversation, and at the same time Shiro and Keith's presence, in the situation they're in, are not comfort.
Allura comes to bring him out his misery. "Okay, Paladins. I made some researches and finds out something like that happened in the past. It wasn't caused by a robeast, of course, but there is the calculation for building a similar machine. If we do it with Pidge's calculation we should be able to revert the effect in no time."
"Finally!" Lance exclaims. "What are we waiting for?"
He does a lot to effort to help Pidge and Hunk to build the machine, and even if Keith thinks that his efforts are slowler down the work than help it, he doesn't say that to avoid conflict.
"It's ready," Pidge announces, proud and happy. "Please enters in the pod."
Keith nods and steps in, Shiro enters in the pod next to him and throws him a little smile.
"Get ready!" Pidge says, and claps his hands. "It should be painful... or at least I think so."
The machine starts, and a light brights inside the pod. Keith feels the same pull he'd felt inside the Red Lion, and he closes his eyes without notices.
"Keith?" Hunk's voice calls.
"Yes?" Keith answers, and he realizes immediately that it doesn't work by the sound of his own voice.
A cheer of disappointment welcomes that news, while Shiro just smile at him and shrugs a little. They step out their pod.
"I don't understand," Pidge complains. "My calculations were correct!"
"Maybe they have to be inside the lions?" Hunk proposes. "We can use them like a vector for thr machine instead of the pods."
"Guess it's worthy an attemp," Allura sighs.
"But in which lion?" Lance intervenes, and for the first time he does an interesting comment at the situation. "Shiro in Keith's body in Black or Red?"
Allura reflects serious to the question, and in the end she says, "let's try first in how they was at the moment of the happening."
But no matter how many attempts they did, how many times they change the lions or the position, or even the attempt they make in the utter space, they don't manage to switch Shiro and Keith in their own body. Even worse, they understand Keith and Shiro are unable to pilot their lion, and even the other's lion, because apparently the messing up of their bodies messes up also with the way the lions perceive them.
Pidge enters in the 'I have to understand this even if it cost me my life' and they have to literally force her to stop and go to dinner (luckily she's small).
"There should be some mistakes in the matching ups between alteans one and the robeast," Pidge still grumbls under her breath. "I have to recalculate everything now."
"You're not doing anything right now," Shiro admonish her. "You're too tired, you did math all day. You're going to rest, Keith and I can resist another day."
"It's so quiznack weird when you talk like it in Keith's body."
"Finally someone else says that!" Lance exults. "That's my problem since yesterday."
"Maybe Shiro may write down what he wants to say and Keith can say it on his behalf." Hunk proposes. "So we won't freak out."
"No."
"You're no fun, man," Lance protests.
"It'll be a loss of time," Keith says, "and we don't have any. If Zarkon attacks now, we won't be able to defend ourself with two lions down. Wasting time is the last thing we need to do."
"I was joking, Keith," Hunk says softly.
"Oh."
Shiro places a hand on Keith's shoulder. "Keith is just tired of bringing along my old bones."
"That's no true," Keith says immediately. "I can take it. I can take everything of you."
Shiro blushes a little and it's very strange to see it on his own face. Lance, on the other side, whistles a little.
"I hooe you realized how what you said sounds."
But the problem is that Keith means it, every shade of it.
In the evening, Shiro becomes more and more agitated. Of course nobody else but Keith realizes that, and they consider his urge to go to bed his way to make them rest after a tiresome day. But Keith knows better, and he also realizes Shiro is trying very hard to make up another excuse to help Keith undressing, now that an entire day passed and Keith proved in more occasions to be at ease inside it.
"Would you like a hand?" He still asks, "my body is still a little big uncomfortable, all that muscles..." he chuckles a little, nervous.
Keith gestures at him to enter, because he doesn't want to have that conversation in the hallway, even if it's empty because the other are back in their rooms. But once the door closes behind them, Keith turns on him, serious.
"Do you trust me, Shiro?"
"Of course I do."
"Then, please, you don't have to make up excuses. If you want something from me, justbecause you're feeling bad, or you're uncomfortable with something, please tell me. You know I'm doing everything to help you."
It's so strange doing that discourse with Shiro's own voice, but the surprise on Shiro's eyes it isn't for that. At a certain point, Shiro's lips turn a little into a sad smile, and he lowers his gaze.
"I didn't want to lie to you."
"I know."
There is another moment of silence, then Shiro sighs. "I don't want you to look at me. The thing I did, the thing I became... It's all on my body. And I don't want anyone to look at me, not even you."
"I understand." Keith nods. "You know I'm not going to judge you, right?"
"I know," Shiro says, "but I will do. I will judge myself."
Keith wants to hug him, to kiss every single one of that scars, and culling him telling him that everything is going to be okay, but he can't, Shiro won't allow it. So he just nods and sits down on the bed. He can't promise he won't look, because he already did it, and now he regrets it a little, but at least he can let Shiro relax by not looking as he undresses him.
And then Pidge enters in the room. "I have it! The solution!" She exclaims. Then, she blinks, "what are you guys doing? Did I interrupt something?"
"No, I was just helping Keith with the armor."
"Shiro's big, you know."
"Well, stop because you will need that armor. I find the mistake in the calculations, this time I'll bring you back in your body."
And she is right. Returning back in his own body is strange, for Keith, and he can't help but thinking back about Shiro's skin, about how it is alla scarred and marked by what happened to him. From Shiro's part there aren't any improvements. He still keeps changing alone and avoid every time people could see at him.
Keith waits until he's ready.
Keith's the first to reach the ship, after Black transported it inside the Castle. He opens the door and Shiro stumbles in his arm, panting hard. He's paled, he looks hungry, and he has long, messy hair but he's there, he's real and he's alive.
"Relax, you're safe," Keith whispers. "Now Allura will bring you to the pod-"
"No," Shiro says immediately, his voice raspy. "Don't let them see me."
There is panic in his voice, so Keith nods. "Sure. Let's go."
The others are already there, even if they wait a little bit far from the pod, so Keith turns his head a little and shakes it. Lance, who is about to scream and jumps on Shiro, stops immediately. They watch, in awe and relieved, when Keith and Shiro walks over them. Shiro walks slowly, totally leaned against Keith's shoulder, and he doesn't seem to have noticed their presence. He pants hard, surely for the recently lack of oxygen. Keith tries to adeguate his step to Shiro's and then, since his room is near, he opens that door instead of Shiro's own room.
"Okay," he murmurs, as he lets Shiro sits very delicately. In a rush, he takes some clothes from Shiro's room an places it on the bed.
"I'm going to bring you some water and food, okay?"
"Yes, please."
Keith nods. "Don't worry, you just... make yourself comfortable and rest."
He makes as fast as he can; Hunk foresaw it and he already made a little tray for him to bring to Shiro. When he goes back, he find Shiro in the same exact position he left him. He gives Shiro a little bit of time to change without being seen, yet Shiro doesn't move.
"Are you okay?"
"Not really."
But he doesn't add anything and he just grabs the tray Keith has in his hand. He eats something with his own hands, stuffing his mouth as much as he can, then drinks all the water. He then pushes back the tray, with half of the food still there.
"I'm tired."
"Okay. Yes. Just rest, we'll talk later."
"Wait," Shiro calls, just when Keith is about to leave the room. "Would you help me change, please?" And he point out at his astronaut suit.
The request takes Keith by surprise. He did everything to give Shiro his space, and until that moment nothing has changed about Shiro's preference of changing alone.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
There isn't doubt in Shiro's eyes, so Keith nods. Shiro gives him his back and let Keith opens the zip and then pushing down the suit. Behind it, Shiro is wearing a soft suit that doesn't correspond exactly like the prisoner suit. Keith put the suit on the ground and Shiro kicks it away, without moving.
Then, slowly, he lifts the arm to suggest Keith to continues. Keith takes off the upper part of the shirt, revealing the bare skin below. When Keith was in Shiro's body, he only gave a good look at his chest, now he can see that even the back is covered in scars.
There's a big stain that looks like a burn in the rein, another deep slash just below the shoulder, and three parallel cuts that looks like a whip sign. Keith resists barely at the idea of touching one of them, and takes a step backwards.
"Do you know what's the worst thing?" Shiro says, startling Keith a little.
"What?"
"About the scars, I mean," Shiro explains. "The wrong thing is that I remember every single one of them. I remember how I got it, if I think deep enough I can even remember the pain, the blood, the cheer of the crowd."
"Shiro..."
"You see the burn?" Shiro continues, as he hasn't even listen to him. "It happen to me to my second fight. It isn't Myzak, but another beast that fight with a torch. He was stronger, stronger than me, and I was hungry, and my illness is getting worse, so he managed to pin me in the ground with his torch. I was there, on the ground, the fire that ate my skin... and he did the mistake to come too near my arms with his legs. I made him tripping, then I pushes his own torch in his mouth." There is a guttural sound, like a small laugh. "I went out with a scar, he died."
"Shiro," Keith says, with more conviction. "You're tired. You need to rest, not thinking about it."
"It's strange," Shiro says. "I remember everything vividly. I remember the day I fought the Galra with the trident, I remember the day I faint on the arena because of the wound of the abdomen, I remember the day I woke up with the metal arm... but I can't feel anything. Like they didn't even happened to me."
"Maybe you're gettin better," Keith tries. "It's been a while."
"Maybe. And maybe I can't hide these scars anymore. After all, they're the proof I fought. I survived. I'm still here."
At that point, Keith don't hesitate. He throws himself against Shiro's back, he presses all his body against him, and hugs him from behind, the forehead against Shiro's skin.
"You're beautiful," Keith whispers. "You're not those scars. But if they're part of you, I'm going to love every single one of them. You don't have to hide them from me."
"You're right," Shiro whispers. "That's what I am."
Even if, by the way Shiro told it, it doesn't seem he likes what he is very much.
Thinking back later, Keith could have understand he wasn't the real Shiro by the way he reacted to the scars. But they were frantic days, and they became worse after Keith left the team, and Keith started to gain his own scars.
Once Shiro is back for real, he turns back to his old attics, but Keith has no reason to think he isn't trusting him on that. At that point, he knows Keith saw all of them. He still prefers to change alone, and Keith respects it.
When Keith returns in the room they shared on the Atlas, Shiro is already it, laying on the bed and reading something on his datapad, his pajama on.
"Hi, baby," Shiro welcomes him, with a bright smile. "How was the meeting?"
"Terrible." He takes off the red jacket of the uniform and throw it on the chair. "Also, you're the captain here. How is it you has been hesonerated to the meeting and even finished work before me?"
Shiro laughs. "It's not my fault the embassy asked specifically for the pilot of the Black Lion and decided that the Atlas' captain isn't so important to them."
"Their loss," Keith grumbles on himself. He takes off his pants and places uncerimously on the jacket. The boot has been abandoned near the door, and Keith uses his own feet to takes off the logs. The shirt is the last thing to leave his body, until Keith remains completely naked but for his small black pants.
When he turns, he notices Shiro has abandoned the datapad and he's looking at Keith, almost scrutinized him.
"Do you look what you're seeing?"
"Not really," Shiro answers, serious, but at first Keith takes it for a joke, and snorts.
"Don't worry, I'll free you from my presence."
He reaches the bathroom, and he washes his face a little to wash off also the annoyed and terrible part of the meeting. But his pajamas is in the room, so he returns in the room. Shiro has places the datapad on the bedtable, and he was looking at the bathroom's door. His eyes follow Keith as he gets to the bed and dig under the pillow to find his pajamas.
"I didn't mean to offend you before," Shiro says. "You're gorgeous, you know."
"I wasn't offended," Keith assures you.
"I was just thinking..." Shiro's voice become lower, sweet. "You have no problem showing me your body, and I still can't stay with you without my shirt off."
Keith stops his research. "Shiro, it's not a problem for me."
"It is for me." Shiro makes an annoyed sound. "You're here, with me, and have no problem whatsoever when I was the one scarring you like that."
"It wasn't you, it was Haggar."
there's a discourse they make a lot of time, and Keith is tired to repeat the same things every time, and tries more to understand Shiro's point to view, and he gets how hard it is accepting the fact that he ends up hurting something he loves. He ignores the pajamas and crawls on the bed next to Shiro.
"It's just a scar," Keith says. "If you think that this scar is going to stop me by staying with you, you're wrong. So find a better excuse for break up with me."
There's a moment of fear passing on Shiro's eyes. "I don't want to break up with you!"
Keith chuckles a little. "Once I was the one not understanding jokes."
"Be kind with me, I'm only six," Shiro pouts. He slides the hand over Keith back neck, and he pushes Keith nearer to kiss him. It's a slower kiss, soft and sweet.
"For real," Shiro whispers, "how do you manage to look at the mirror and not thinking about it?"
"I don't Keith replies. "I think about it every time, but it's not a bad memory for me. You're here with me now, and everything that happened back there is proof it it. I didn't regret any of I did there, and I don't really mind the scar."
"I see," Shiro murmurs.
"Things are differently for you," Keith continues. "I understand your situation. I won't never forced you to take off your shirt, not if you're not ready."
"I'm not," Shiro confirms. "But I wish I am."
"It's okay. I mean, I wish to see you naked too. I wish to see your gorgeous body, I wish to touch him and kiss him and everything."
Shiro coughs a little, embarrassed.
"But I won't give up on you just because of this. I will never give up on you."
There is a brief silence between them. Then Shiro takes one of Keith's hand and guides it slowly under his shirt. Keith can feel the roughness of the skin, and his fingers move a little and recognizes a couple of the scars he saw time ago.
"That's the maximum I can do for now," Shiro murmurs. "I don't think I'm ready for something else."
"You don't have to force yourself for me." Still, Keith doesn't move his hand from there.
"I'm not doing it for you. Not only for you," he amends himself. "I'm doing it for me. I'm tired to be disgusted of my body, at the point I can't even change in front of my boyfriend."
The word makes Keith's heart moving faster.
"I'm tired of not be able to look myself at the mirror because I hate what I am."
Keith crawls a little bit near and places his head in the curve of Shiro's neck. Shiro's breath is harsh, faster, only because Keith's hand is on his bare chest, even if Keith can't see it.
"You'll do it, Shiro, I'm sure of it," he murmurs. "You survive for things that everyone else would have be killed by. And I'll be there for you when you'll do. I'll be here for all the time you will need to do that."
There's now a little smile on Shiro's face. He closes his eyes and keeps Keith closer. -
.
He’s running.
The hallway of the museum is dark, and empty, and Shiro’s running alone. He’s following someone, but in the dark he can’t see much. The walls of the museum are full of painting, and they come to life: monster and humans alike flash out their frames, their arms and hands stretch to catch Shiro’s ankles.
In the far, a dim light appears. It’s a glass door window, that reflect the moon light from outside. With a relieved smile, Shiro runs faster, and just a second before the monsters are able to take him, he opens the windows.
But he brakes immediately, because the balcony of the windows is completely broken, with not even a railing to protect it. With a hand on the wall, Shiro puts his body back, avoiding at the last minute to fall in the dark canal below him.
“Careful, Detective.”
An amused voice come from above him, and Red the thief his there, with his tight purple suit and his red mantle and his mask that covers the entire upper part of his face, and his top hat. He floats above the canal, in front of Shiro, hung at a group of multicolor balloons. A smirk is on his face.
The wall Shiro is grasping to crumbles to piece, and he starts fall down, fast, to the canal, as the thief’s low laugh resounds in his ears. He stretches the arm to try to catch him…
And then he wakes up.
He finds himself in his bed, sweat sticking his hair to the face, painting hard.
The investigation about the thieving of the famous thief Red are disturbing their sleep, and as much as Shiro loves his job, it’s time to put an end on this and returning at the normalcy of his jobs. And his nights, where he doesn’t dream about museums, paintings or failing in the canals.
The cellphone on the bedside table lights up and rings, communicating a new message. With a grunt, Shiro leans his hand and takes the phone.
James has send him a brief communication: Iverson wants to see you, and Sanda is here too
There is no doubt in Shiro’s mind about the tone and the argument of his future conversation with Sanda and Iverson. Iverson has plenty of faith in him, but Sanda, as the mayor of Venice, has the public opinion at his back, if they don’t catch Red before he steals again.
With a sigh, Shiro takes a brief shower, dress himself and leaves his apartment. He’s been luckily to have it in the center of Venice, at the upper store of a building. It’s small and humid, but it’s his, and it allows him to walk towards the police station by walk, enjoying the small calle the tourist don’t bother with.
Once he enters the police station, James and Ryan stands up from their respective desk and looks at him with a worried look.
“Where are they?” Shiro asks, with a small nod as a greeting.
“Iverson’s office.”
Shiro nods: he surpasses them and knocks at the door of his superior office. A second later, comes a gruff respond. “Come in.” Iverson is at his desk, Sanda sits down in front of him. On the desk, there are all the newspaper of the day, that announces with amusement the police defeat against Red of the night before.
As usual, journalists aren’t kind with them.
“Do you want to see me, Sir?” Shiro asks, polite.
“Sit down, Shirogane. We have to talk.”
And with that, he means Sanda has something to say, and that they both aren’t going to like it. Still, Shiro pretends not to know and sits down next to Sanda, obedient.
“Major Sanda here,” Iverson begins, “isn’t happy about the result of our investigations. I tried to explain her the difficult of our work, but she isn’t satisfied.”
“It’s not just me,” Sanda points out. “I received a call both from the governor and the Home secretary. Like all of us, we’re worried about the raids of the thief named Red. And, until now, this force hasn’t been able to stop him.”
“So what do you suggest?” Iverson asks.
“Maybe we should leave the investigation at someone more competent. Or better, more expert about this kind of investigations.”
“Are you insinuating am I not competent enough?” Shiro inquires.
“You too has to accept that Red isn’t our usual criminal,” Sanda says.
“That’s for sure. But for this exact reason, I don’t feel there’s experts of him around here.”
“Listen, Detective Shirogane-” Sanda begins, but Shiro doesn’t leave her the time, despite Iverson’s gesture to stop.
“No, you listen to me. Naples. Rome. Florence. Milan. Venice is the fifth city in the list of Red’s attacks. Did someone else before me stopped him? No! That’s the reason he’s here now. Because no one has been able to catch him. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not,” Sanda concedes.
“You and everyone else called yesterday night a failure, but it was not. He was so near to catch Red like no one else ever was. Do you know what the problem was? Too much people were there, and Red took advantage of it. I don’t want anyone to interfere with me.”
“Do you realize it’s bigger than both of us, right?”
“I don’t care,” Shiro replies. “I have a 100% of positive results in my investigations. I am the expert around, and my job is to catch Red. Your job is to make everyone else understand this, and keep everyone very far away for me as I work.”
Sanda’s hands turn into fists, and she trembles slightly. She’s the mayor, she’s the one that should give orders. But she can’t contrast Shiro, because he’s a very loved detective in the city, and since he was promoted the level of criminality of Venice has dropped low. She can’t intervene to make him leave, or people will attack her.
“Fine,” she spats. “But you’re walking on thin ice.”
“Like usual.” Shiro turns his head towards Iverson, that makes a gesture to dismiss him, something Shiro does with grace and relief.
When he turns back in the main room, James and Ryan fake to be at work.
“The case is still ours,” Shiro announces, and they take a deep of relief. “But I don’t know for how much long. We need to catch Red before they change their mind. Ryan, I want all the information you manage to find about Red’s previous thieving in the other cities. No matter of small the clue is, I want everything that happened them. James, I want a research about the paintings Red steal usually. Every story, every legend, we need to understand the path.”
“Yessir,” they answer. Then, James adds, looking as Shiro moving towards the exit, “what about you?”
He doesn’t turn around in answering. “I need a coffee.”
In a small campo just behind the police station there’s Shiro’s favorite bar. It’s not attended by many policemen because the owner isn’t as kind as the one that runs the bar just in front of the station, and because the prices are a little bit higher, since it’s a history bar. Shiro enjoys it because it’s quiet.
His usual bar has just been used, and a waiter with long dark hair is cleaning it. He was new, because Shiro doesn’t remember him. He waits until the waiter finishes his job, then takes a step forwards, just when the waiter turns his head at him.
And woah, he’s the most beautiful man Shiro has ever seen. He drowns in those big blue eyes, before the waiter, with a lost expression, runs inside the bar. Hoping to not having scared him, Shiro takes his seat. A couple of minutes later, Sal appears with Shiro’s usual order, a double espresso and a croissant with apricot comfiture.
“Rough days, am I right?” Sal comments.
“You have no idea,” Shiro replies, with a smile. “But I’m feeling already better now, thank you.”
He throws a look inside the shop: the waiter is at the counter, letting a client paying and at the same time taking another order from a fat lady.
“New boy?” he asks, hoping to have used enough nonchalantly to hide his obvious interest.
“Uh?” Sal follows Shiro’s gaze. “Ah, Keith. Yes. Last week old Jack found another job and let me in the middle of the work. Keith is here for a master and he wanted to gain some money, so… we kinda helped each other. A good worker.”
Shiro wants to ask more, but he doesn’t want to raise suspicious, so he just nods. He eats his croissant and drinks his coffee, thinking how much unprofessional and unkind could be flirt with the waiter. He waits twenty minutes, but it’s Sal who clean his table and Keith remains inside, preparing coffee.
He has had his pause. Now it’s time to return to his own work, and thinking back at Red and how to stop him. In the station, Ryan and James are already working on their own assignment, so Shiro’s idea is to recall back the two thieving Red already made in Venice and tries to find a weak spot on Red’s way of robbing. Instead, he finds a young man sitting down in front of his desk.
He recognizes him immediately.
“What are you doing here?” he demans.
“Oh, Hey.” The young man stands up. “Lance Serrano, nice to meet you. I hope there’s no grudge about what happened yesterday night?”
Shiro refuses to shake his hand and sits down. “Do you mean the moment I was about to grab Red’s arm and you fell right into me, so Red managed to escape?”
Lance rubs his head, embarrassed. “Yeah… that.”
“Do you know I can incriminate you for obstruction to justice? Or, even worse, complicity in thieving?”
“Hey, hey, do not joke about it. I’m not that thief’s accomplice. That jerk! I’m trying to catch him since his first appearance in Naples.” He rummages in his pocket and extract a visitor card, that passes to Shiro.
“You’re a private detective?”
“The one and the best. Well, to be honest, Red’s case is my first important one, before him I was like everyone else, following wives and husbands around. But then Red stole something from my family’s house, and I’m looking for him ever since.”
“You followed him around all the cities he stole from?” Shiro inquiries, suddenly interested. Lance doesn’t seem the brightest mind around, but if he has been on the tail of Red for so long, he may have some information for Shiro. Even important one he doesn’t even realize.
“Yep! Not to be extra, but I’m the most expert of Red’s feats!” He takes off a folder. “And, as a sign of forgiveness, I brought you all my notes about him.”
Shiro takes the folder and opens it: there are a lot of interesting takes, paper divided for every thieving, with information about the painting that were stolen and the way Red did it. A job well done, and Shiro didn’t expect it to be.
“We’re on the same side here,” Lance continues. “I really want that thief behind bars. So, I give you a hand, you give me another…”
“Can I keep this?” Shiro asks.
“Of course, it’s for you. And,” Lance grabs a pen and scribbles a number on the corner of the folder, “this is my cellphone. Feel free to contact me as you like.”
***
The shift ends at four o’clock. Keith cleans up the last tables, nods a goodbye gesture to Sal and the he rushes at the stop of the ferrying. He takes it to reach the island of Torcello. It’s quieter than Venice, with less tourist, which mean less people to curious around. The small villa Pidge rent is at the far corner of the island, inside a small park with high hedges to cover the inside.
Most of the villa is unused. Pidge has make his personal office, with computer and everything, out of the big ballet room. He there she is, in front of one of his screen. From the rumors Keith hears, Hunk is probably nearby, creating some new inventions.
“Welcome back,” she greets him. “How was your first day of work?”
“Did you know?”
“I know a lot of things. Be more specific.”
“Did you know,” Keith murmurs slowly, anger under control, “that the bar you asked me for hiring was the Detective’s favorite one?”
“Yes.”
“Why the hell did you do something like this,” he complains. “If he found out…”
“I doubt he will make a connection between the nice waiter at Sal’s and Red the Thief,” Pidge interrupts him, “not unless you say something compromising.”
“I won’t, still I don’t see why taking such a risk. Isn’t Lance already on it to distract him?”
“Yes. But apparently Detective Shirogane is gay and single.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “So what? Do you want me to try to seduce him to keep away for our affairs?”
“That would be a great idea,” Lance’s voice appears in the ballet room, “because God knows how much you need to get laid. And the Detective is just your type, tall and buff. But unfortunately, you’re the worst in this kind of things.”
“I’m gonna resign tomorrow,” Keith states, as he slips away from Lance’s hug.
“You’re not doing such a thing,” Pidge admonishes him. “That will be too much suspicious. You will go to work, chat with the Detective just to pry out some information, and will let us do your job.” Then her attention moves to Lance, “how about you.”
“He’s a tough cookie,” Lance comments, taking a seat on the armchair in front of him. “I left him my usual folder, and he seemed interested, but I won’t count on the fact that he will believe in everything written inside it.”
Pidge nods. “I feared it. We don’t have much choice but to be extra careful next time. We’ll write down a paper that can be ambiguous, and will push the police to the wrong path.”
“Do you have our next objective?” Keith asks, now interested.
“I have. Be prepared.”
***
The next days has been spent into reading all the documentations Shiro collected. His desk is now completely covered by papers scrabbled around, and he also brought inside the office a blackboard when he finished the space on the desk.
Lance’s folder is enough accurate, to Shiro’s surprise. There is wrong information about Red’s methods of thieving, but it could be because Lance isn’t a policeman and probably he wasn’t really invited during the investigation. Most of it seemed out of Lance’s own imagination, not even the journalist’s.
But he made some interesting deduction about Red’s preference in thieving. In every city Red visited, he stole always ten painting, the same amount and from the same ten different artists. He may change the order of the theft, but the number and the artists don’t. And comparing the two thefts Red already made in Venice, Shiro recognizes the same characteristic Lance noted. It may be a collection, or a subject, or another kind of particular, but those paintings are in some way tied.
It was an interesting information, because it means they could try to find what Red’s next objective could be without waiting for his warning card.
Shiro takes the phone. “Hey, Ina,” he greets their analyst. “If I send you a list of artist and one characteristic their pairings should have, can you find a list of painting in Venice that correspond to that?”
“Yes,” she answers simply. “If the paintings are recorded in the Ministry Database, of course.”
“I’ll send you the list by mail right away.” There is still a possibility of some strange painting owned by a private that never got register, but until that moment, Red always took things that are somehow well known.
In less than half an hour, Ina answered the mail with a list of paintings that correspond to the characteristic Shiro wrote down. In total, there are twenty painting, divided for eight artists. For most of them, Shiro reduces the possibilities to anticipate Red at two different choices.
He’s looking at the owner of each painting, with the idea of contacting them one by one and going to inspect the area before Red could do that. With some luck, he can also put every painting under surveillance and spotted any suspicious person around. He fully suspects Red has to visit the place of theft before acting.
“Crime never rests,” a low voice says behind him, and Shiro turns to find Keith, the waiter, coming in front of him with a tray of what it seems his lunch. He hasn’t ordered it. He hopes it’s his justification of his suddenly open-mouth.
“Sal was worried,” Keith murmurs, as he placed down the tray: the prosciutto and cheese piadina and the orange juice he always ordered. “He said you have the habit to not eat when you’re occupied with some particular case.”
“He knows me too well,” Shiro admits. “Thank you. Oh, uhm.”
“It’s Keith,” the other smiles. Shiro shakes his hand and notices Keith doesn’t do any move to leave.
“Do I have to pay you? Tips you or-”
“Oh, no, Sal said you can pay later.” Keith waves his hand. “It’s just… If I leave now, I have to return later to take back the tray. Or… I can wait here until you’re done. If you don’t mind the company.”
Shiro might have been a little too fast in pointing the chair where Keith can sit, but Keith doesn’t seem to mind to much, as he sits down and takes of his coat.
“If you don’t mind looking at me eating,” Shiro says.
“It can’t be so bad,” Keith laughs.
“Watch and judge.” And Shiro takes a very big bite of the piadina. Then, he realizes the slower he eats, the most Keith will stay here. And then he feels guilty because probably Keith has some work to do than keeping him company.
“So, Sal told me you’re here for a master?”Shiro asks.
“Oh, yes. Uhm… Historic art. Yes.”
“Oh, nice. I guess it can be useful for our investigation.”
Keith coughs a little. Then, he throws a look at the blackboard. “So, you’re investigating the case of Red the Thief, uh?”
“Yep. Have you heard about him?”
“Well, it’s pretty famous, the journals speak a lot about him. You know, with the fact he sends warning cards before acting.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s some part of the public imaginary.”
“Why do you think he does that?”
“We have just hypothesis. And I can’t really talk about it, you know, the secret and everything.”
Shiro’s opinion on the matter is clear, though: Red does that to give a false sense of security to the police, and taking advantages of the situation of chaos many people around created.
“Oh, right, sorry.” Keith’s eyes are still on the black board, scrutinized them. “I mean, it’s bad. Stolen paiting… But, you know, it’s the charm of those kind of criminal. See Arsenio Lupin.”
Shiro snorts.
“I guess you’re not a fan?” Keith smiles.
“Not really. I was mocked for this, but to be honest my favorite character is always being Zenigata.” Keith looks at him intently. “I mean, it’s always painted as the comic relief, but to be honest, to do really think it’s credible the Interpool will still pay him up his bills even if he was only unsuccessful. Besides, there are a lot of episodes about Zenigata and Lupin teaming up to arrest some other criminals, and Zanigata is always been competent in them. I’m pretty sure Zenigata is the best agent of the Interpool and that’s why he was chosen to catch Lupin.”
He stops, noticing Keith is looking at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, I’m a nerd.”
Keith laughs. “No, you’re cute. I mean,” he blushes, “it’s nice.”
Okay, so Keith doesn’t find him weird. Good.
“But probably Sal would complain, knowing I’m talking about work again,” Shiro says. “Tell me more about you. How’s the lessons?”
“Ugh. Next question?”
“Where do you come from?” Then, he sighs. “Sorry, they sound like cop’s questions, right?”
“A little.” Keith laughs again. “I’m around Rome,” he always then. “It’s a little bit different here. Have you lived here all the time?”
“No, I’m originally from Milan. My parents used to live here, where my mother met my father – he’s Japanese, you know. But I was offered a promotion for this place, and I’m happy. Venice has a particular charm. The Serenissima. Well, now not anymore, with all the tourists and everything, but there are still corners that maintain the original atmosphere.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“Well, I could-”
Iverson appears on the door of his office. “Shirogane. Everyone. Come here: Red sent his card.”
“Coming!” Shiro looks at Keith with an apologizing smile.
“It’ okay, I have to go back to work too.” Keith stands up. Shiro rushes to give back the tray, and only then he notices a small drawing, depicting Shiro’s bust in a very anime way.
“You made this?” he asks Keith.
He blushes. “Yeah…”
“It’s so cute. Can I keep it?”
“Sure, if you like…”
Shiro strips the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. “If you’d like… we can have a coffee sometimes. Not at Sal’s, of course,” he adds, with a small laugh. “I can show you some of my favorite spot of Venice.”
Keith smiles. “That would be nice.” He lowers a little his head and then he’s off.
With a nod, James and Ryan follow Shiro in Iverson’s office. A copy on Red’s paper is on the desk, and Shiro grabs it as Iverson explains where and what the painting is, and how to act from now on. Shiro reads the riddles Red made this time, and then the clear writing of Ina, that signed at the bottom of the copy her deduction with a comment from her part: too easy.
Ina has Asperger, and doesn’t make such comments unless they mean something. Red’s riddles aren’t the worst ever, but they still required some skill to interpreted them. Evidently, this time the riddle was easy enough to made Ina suspicious of the situation.
“Are you listen to me, Shirogane?”
“Yes, Sir. We’ll go immediately to check the situation and put on the best defense we can.” But as soon as they were outside the room, he adds, “go first, I’ll join you later.”
“Something wrong?” James inquires.
“No, but I want to check a feeling I have before.”
He returns to his desk. The painting is on Ina’s list, so it’s included in the list of characteristic Red searches in his theft. Or maybe, it’s what Red wanted them to believe, therefore the easier riddle. The artist in this case is Monet, so Shiro takes off the list Lance made and the folder Nadia prepared about the painting’s characteristics.
And he immediately notices something: all the Monet’s painting Red stole have the same characteristic Lance found out (they have the same subject, women with white dresses) but they have another one in common. They were made during the same year. It was a very big particular, and Shiro finds strange Lance didn’t notice it. Maybe it was easy to find the characteristic on the paintings themselves than their history. Yet…
He calls Ina back. “Can you look if in Venice there is a Monet painting that was made in 1872?”
“A second,” she answers. “Yes, there is one. Private collection.”
“Send the specific to me.”
It’s a small painting, with no women in it. But looking at it and at the riddle, Shiro can see that painting can be also the solution, a more complicated one, for sure, but still… it can be it Red’s true objective. A satisfied smile compared on Shiro’s face: if Red was force to masked better his theft, it means Shiro is doing a great work into corner him.
Let’s be it, Shiro decides. Let’s Red believe they fell for his trap, so for once he will be the one too overconfident of the situation. After all, Red made his warning for a reason, and Shiro is going to answer back with the same methods.
Still… interesting. Red chose paintings with two same characteristics, so if the situation needs it (like this case) he can switch from one another and still say it has always been his primary objective, and being right about it.
Shiro frowns. Hide something behind something else. It’s Red’s methods, after all. The choosing of paintings, the way he sends the warnings… What if there is something else behind Red’s thefts?
He calls Ina again. “With the list I gave you before, can you tell me if there is another city in Italy that has paintings with the same characteristics?”
Then, he digs into James’ researches. As usually, he was meticulous, and has the Art Department send them a list of the theft happening since Red has been active, to check if there is a common field for those kind of criminals. His conclusion was no, yet Shiro returns back to check all the list, considering only the paintings.
And he notices it. Nothing in Milan, but in Naples and Rome two paintings was stolen: not only from the same artist, Alfor Altea (died two years before), but from the same collection, the Castle of Lion one. Respectively, the Green Lion and the Yellow Lion.
A quick research informs Shiro another painting of the same collection, the Blue Lion, was stole for the owner’s villa in Sicily around a month before Red’s attics began. The culprit has never been found, just like the painting. There are two other paintings in the collection: the Red Lion and the Black Lion. The latter disappeared just before Alfor’s dead, and some consider it the cause of the artist death. The other was sold in an auction last year in London, and the owner is…
Shiro takes a deep breath and he tries to calm himself.
Ina’s call wakes him up. “No, with that combination there aren’t any cities available.”
It makes sense. The Red Lion is the last one of the collection, hypnotizing Red has already the Red Lion. Or that Zarkon has it, in secret, and Red is going to steal them for him. Even if Red looks a little too intricate for Zarkon’s way of action, as Shiro’s prosthetic arm always remembers him.
If Red works for Zarkon, arresting him will mean a possibility witness of Zarkon’s criminal activities. If Red doesn’t work for Zarkon but plans to steal for him, Shiro is sure Zarkon’s methods will be pretty definitive for Red.
Either way, the best course of action is to arrest Red before it’s too late.
***
Keith has a habit of working at night, for obvious reasons. It’s used to walk when the streets are empty, the air cold, the atmosphere dark, and generally a sense of danger and chillness.
Venice is different from any other cities he faced. He’s older, more dangerous. Keith can walk and feeling the cold grip of the ancient ghost. Not that he’s going to tell it someone, Lance especially will mock him to not end.
But the chillness doesn’t leave him as he navigates the dark canal with his gondola. To be fair, he doesn’t really navigate, Hunk modified the gondola so Pidge can remote-pilot it with the GPS. Keith’s duty, for now, is to lie down and not be spotted if someone check outside the windows. Not that there are any risks: the water is a little higher of the normal, so most people are already inside, and the secondary canal is navigating is even more darker, with closed windows.
“Spot reached,” Pidge informs him over the comms he has in his ear.
Keith stands up, throws a small look outside to be sure nobody is around, then sends the hook on the roof and, with the help of the rope, he climbs the wall of the palace. Once he reaches the windows he needs to, he takes off his knife and unhinges the shutter. With a foot on the sill, Keith cuts off a piece of the glass of the window so he can open it. Then, he jumps inside, silent as a panther.
By Hunk’s instructions, the painting should be on the right wall, just below the fireplace. Without turning up any light, Keith slips next to the wall and he touches it until he finds the painting with his hand. He’s about to take it off, when the light of the room turns on, momentarily blinding him.
When he adapts back to the light and he turns, Shiro is already next to the windows. The door of the room is closed, and Keith suspected he’s locked too. He’s trapped, unless he defeated Shiro by himself.
Shiro smiles softly. “Finally we have a chance to meet, Red.”
“What’s happening?” Pidge asks, counting the time Red’s is using is too much for their standard.
“Detective…” Keith exhales.
“Wait! He’s there?!” He can hear her furiously tipping. “But the police is at the museum. I can see them through the cameras…”
“Are you here alone? Brave.”
“I’ll call Lance immediately, you get out of here, now!”
“I read a lot about you,” Shiro whispers. He has his gun in his hand. “In all your thefts, no one was ever armed, and you don’t have guns with you. I’m not in danger.” Now the gun points at Keith. “You’re under arrest.”
“Are you really going to shoot me, Detective?” Keith asks. He lets the painting and takes a step towards him. “Just like you said, I’m unarmed.”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
What Keith needs it’s just a little bit of a distraction, a way for him to throw himself out of the window. He doubts Shiro will have shot him for real, if Keith doesn’t give him any reason.
He takes another step forwards, and now the gun is brushing his chest. “So what are you going to do?”
They look at each other, their deep breath the only sound in the room. Then, Keith lifts his hand, grabs the gun and pull off far for him. The movement startles Shiro, who fears that Keith is going to use the gun against him; instead Keith pushes himself towards the windows. He feels something grabbing him for the mantle, and then he’s pushed on the ground, Shiro above him who keeps the him still and his hand behind his back.
“You’re under arrest, Red.”
Keith grits his teeth and tries to struggles, but Shiro’s grip is too strong. He still has some possibilities to escape – opening a pair of handcuff is nothing for him – but he doubts Shiro will be so nice to keep his mask on for the time needed, and once his identity is discovered, is over for Keith’s plan.
Then, his instinct kicks in, and he feels something outside the door. With his last strength, he kicks Shiro out of himself just before Shiro can put the handcuffs.
“Stay put!” he screams as a warning, just before the shooting starting.
A pierced pain hits his arm. Keith covers himself with his own mantel as the shots pierces the locked door, spreading the wooden splinters around, and then hit the windows and the opposite wall. Four, maybe five guns, Keith understands. He isn’t hard to understand who is shooting.
“Are you okay??? Keith? What’s happening.”
When the silence returns, Keith peeks outside fast and careful. The door is half broken, and he can see the attacker already getting near. Shiro is few meters from him, and he seems fine. In a rush, Keith stands up and grabs him for an arm.
“We have to go.”
He doesn’t wait for an answers. The window is almost destroyed, but the rope is still here, hung at the roof. Keith grabs it and slips back on the gondola, that is still there. A second later, Shiro lands next to him. He has the gun on his hand, and he’s looking back at the window, ready to shot at the attackers.
The windows around are lightened up now, and Keith is sure they’re going to call the police any moment now.
“I’m back on the gondola, but I need to leave. Now!”
“I’m on it!” Pidge answers at the comms.
The gondola starts moving slowly, and the attackers appear on the window. Shiro shot a couple of warning and they put back inside their head. Then the gondola accelerates and turns a little on the right, speeding outside the small canal to reach a bigger one.
“Nice touch,” Shiro says, nodding at the gondola. “Friends of yours?” he asks then, with a little of humor.
“Definitely not,” Keith replies. Then, he turns around to look at Shiro. “Do you still want to arrest me?”
“Of course,” he replies with a smile. Then, his face hardens. “They’re from the Galra gang, aren’t they?” And Keith is too surprised to nor react surprised. “I can help you. I can protect you. If you-”
With the corner of his eyes, Keith sees Lance running towards them, on the dock. With a fast movement, Keith moves on the right, inclining the gondola on that side. Shiro, who is still standing on the border, loses his balance and fall on the dark water. While the gondola keeps his path, Keith observes as Shiro emerges from the water with his wet hair, and Lance calls for him from the dock, throwing him a rope to help him.
“I’m going back,” Keith says. “Bring me home.”
Pidge doesn’t have a snarky remark for him.
***
“Explain me again,” Sanda says.
For once, Shiro can’t blame her for her anger. They’re back in Iverson’s office, and Shiro has still the wet and dirty clothes of the night before. Iverson nods a Shiro to repeat the story again.
“I was surveilling the museum with everyone else,” Shiro starts, fully knowing James and Ryan are going to cover for him. “Red was late, so I became suspicious because Red was never late, not in any thefts I studied for him.”
“It could have been an exception,” Sanda murmurs.
“But it wasn’t, was it?” Shiro replies. “I made some deductions of my own before last night, and there were other three Monet paintings that could have been in Red’s aim. So I read back the riddle and realized that another painting could have been Red’s true objective. And I was right.”
“Yet, you decided to go there alone, without any reinforcement,” Sanda comments. “It was a pretty violation of the rules.”
“And I apologize for it. But the surveillance at the museum has been Iverson’s order, and I didn’t want to risk the operation over something that could have been an exception, just like you said before.”
“I trust Shiro into taking decision of himself,” Iverson points out.
Sanda scrutinizes Shiro. “So you reached for the private house and hears the shooting, then took a gondola to reach it from the river?” she asks. “You didn’t enter the house before, without asking the owners, taking advantages of the fact they’re out of town?”
“Of course not,” Shiro lies. Unfortunately, some of his old not very legal attics are known even by Sanda. “Like I said, I was on the dock when I heard the shooting. I takes the nearest boat I have at disposal and reached the house. That’s when Red fell from the windows. I had to shot at the men from below otherwise we would have been sitting duck.”
“And then Red push him outside the gondola and escape.”
Sanda isn’t amused, she’s angry because she knows, again, Shiro has been so near to a success and instead they’re still empty-handed. Shiro doesn’t correct her about Red’s actions: even if what happened was true, Shiro can’t keep outside his mind that Red had no reason to help him, instead he called for him, and waited him to bring both of the far away from the attackers.
So Red may be a thief, but he isn’t a killer. On the contrary, he has killers on his tail, as Shiro suspects.
“How about that guy?” Iverson asks. “Lance Serrano? His layer came immediately to take him, but to be honest I didn’t have much to keep him.”
“I don’t trust him,” Shiro answers immediately.
At the already suspicious attic of leaving a folder with partial information, his arrival at the right moment to help Shiro just after Red dumped it makes Shiro not believing him anymore. At Sanda and Iverson told Lance had probably followed Shiro while he left the museum, since he wanted to capture Red himself, but Shiro wasn’t at the museum, which mean someone warned Lance about his presence, or Red’s, at the private house.
Either Lance is a Red’s accomplice, which is likely because Red can’t do what he does alone, or, worse, he’s working for Zarkon and his gang. Either way, he can’t Lance interfere with the investigation anymore.
“But I can’t prove anything against him for now.”
Iverson nods. “What are we going to do now?”
“A shooting isn’t something I can hide easily, and the journalists outside are proof of it,” Sanda says. “I’ll try to calm down the water and hopes the Minister won’t complain too much. You keep a low profile, for now, and let the Art Ministry take the lead of Red’s investigations for now.” She anticipates Shiro’s protests and adds, “I’m not saying you should stop, apparently your intuitions are still good, Shirogane. I’m just asking to keep a low profile until the public opinion won’t have something else to talk about.”
“And we have to be careful, if Zarkon’s gang is back on action,” Iverson says, with a quick look at Shiro’s prosthetic.
“Fine,” Shiro agrees.
Still having the investigation is probably the best deal Shiro can have at the moment. Since his past with Zarkon, it’s almost a miracle Sanda doesn’t ask for his immediately dismissal from the case.
James and Ryan are at his desk, waiting for him and his explanation. “We still have the case,” Shiro announces, and then proceed to explain to them both what happened for real the night before (with some cut about Red’s behavior) and the way he reached those conclusions about Zarkon’s role in this entire situation.
“Ryan,” Shiro says then. “I want you to keep Lance Serrano under surveillance.” Unfortunately, Lance is probably suspicious now that he’s been detained even if for a couple of hours, and the fact that he called for his layer immediately is even more suspicious. But still, Shiro hopes they can find some interesting information about him.
“Sure. James is already on it doing some researches in the database,” Ryan says, and James nods.
“Please, ask Nadia to do some research with the Art Ministry about the painter AlforAltea and especially his stolen paintings of the Castle of Lion collection.”
“Already done, boss.” James smiles.” And if you need a coffee, do you want me do distract the journalist outside?”
“Please, yes!” Shiro exhales with a long sigh.
While James goes outside the police station with Ryan and the journalists immediately surround them, Shiro slips outside a secondary door. He breaths again only when he sits down on his table at Sal’s, alone and far from those parasites.
Sal appears out of nowhere with a cup of dark coffee and places him before Shiro. He has the decency of not asking anything, reserving Shiro just a little encouraging smile. Shiro delights the coffee with calm, and throws eyes on the inside of the bar, but Keith’s isn’t there.
A chair at his table is moved and a giant man takes his seat in front of Shiro. Shiro turns with a frown, fearing it’s a journalist, but it’s even worse.
“Sendak,” Shiro growls.
“My, my,” Sendak smiles pleasantly. “Aren’t you happy to see an old friend.”
“We aren’t friend, and considering last time we saw each other I lost my arm, you should have your answer.”
“You used to be more fun.”
“Also, hasn’t last night a better reunion for you?” Shiro adds, and at this Sendak smirks amused.
“Just like the old time.”
“What do you want, Sendak?”
“Relax,” he says, when Shiro startles a little when he puts his hand on his pocket. “I’m just here for pure courtesy this time.”
He places an enveloped in the table and pushes a little towards Shiro, before standing up and leaving without another word. Shiro looks at the envelop, suspicious, but in the end he takes it and opens it.
It’s an invitation for the carnival party Zarkon will host at his house.
***
If Keith could have escape, he would have. But he’s tired, and the bed his soft, and his arm still stings too much even if luckily the shot only scratched him. So he lies down there, the safe arm upon his eyes, while Hunk and Pidge discuss in front of him. He doesn’t have the courage to interrupt them to tell them he wants to rest.
“They followed the detective, it’s clear,” Pidge says again, for the hundred times. “They didn’t find us.”
“But they know we’re after their painting, otherwise why would have them attacked Keith?” Hunk replies. “We did all this to be sure to not have Zarkon and his men on our tail, not until we find a way to steal the Red Lion from him, and the result is that Keith almost died.”
“Oh, he’s fine. He got nine lives just like cats.”
Keith decides to let it slip.
“And we lost Lance’s help too,” Hunk reminds her. “Now he has that cop behind him, and he can’t return here, nor helping us anymore. The Detective is too suspicious now.” He takes a deep breath. “We have no choice, we have to stop.”
“No!” Pidge complains. “We still have possibilities. Zarkon may know we’re after the Red Lion, but he still doesn’t know who we are. That’s our advantage.”
“Yet we won’t be able to rob him if he’s warned of our presence,” Hunk rebuts. “We can try to change our strategy. We have four painting. Allura may pretend to acquired them at the black market, and maybe we can find someone willing enough to listen to her. Your father…”
“We can’t stop now,” Keith murmurs slowly. “We’re too far.”
“But Keith…” Hunk murmurs. “You’re delirious from the pain.”
“I’m not.”
This is the first time Keith feels his life has some meaning, that he’s doing something important. It isn’t going to just give up.
“Who cares about Lance,” he adds. “We’ll find another way to take the Red Lion. Let’s put Red the Thief on the deck for now. Let Zarkon turns around in circle for now.”
“But,” Hunk tries again, but Keith’s cellphone rings in that moment, interrupting him. Keith reaches it with his free hand.
“Unknown number.”
“What if it’s Zarkon? He found us!”
“Answer and put the loudspeaker on,” Pidge orders. “Hunk shielded this house, we’re safe.”
So Keith nods and presses the touch screen. “Hello?” he asks, with uncertain voice.
“Keith,” Shiro’s voice sounds in the room. “Sorry, it’s Shiro. I was at Sal’s and he told me you’re not feeling good, so I was a little worried and he… kinda worried about me so he gave me your number. I hope it’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Keith has two numbers, and the one he gave Sal is the sacrificial one. It doesn’t matter if Shiro has it.
“How are you?”
“Fine. It’s just a cold, you know? I’ll be up in a couple of days.”
“Oh. Good to hear.”
“What about you?”
“The only wounded thing is my pride,” Shiro chuckles lightly. “No good, but it could be worse.”
“I’m glad.”
There is a small tension between them, something Keith attribute at the fact Hunk and Pidge are in the same room with him and they’re listening to everything he’s saying. He’s already bad at flirting and lying without even having spectators.
And the fact that he and Shiro met so close two nights before makes Keith a little bit vulnerable, and even if it’s probably an irrational fear, he feels Shiro knows about him.
“Listen,” Shiro says. “My superior asks me to take some days off, to recover from what happened and let the situation calming down. So I was wondering if you’d like that Venice tour I promised you.”
Keith hesitates. Pidge’s plan in his opinion is too risky from the first time, but to be honest he wants to spend time with Shiro. It just would be better if they have met under different circumstances. Pidge lifts one of his table with the written “accept it”. She probably hopes Keith can check what Shiro knows about everything – especially because Shiro’s wording back them seemed to indicate that he at least knows about Zarkon.
How she hasn’t yet understood how bad Keith is to be a spy it’s a mystery.
But he’s happy Pidge gives him an excuse to say yes to Shiro.
***
“The Florian, eh?”
“Well, it’s not my favorite place, and it’s definitely the most expensive place of Venice but… it’s the Florian,” Shiro explains. “If we want to do a nice tour of Venice, we can’t miss it.”
At his side, Keith smiles. “I trust you on this.”
There is a cold wind outside, so they take place inside, in the old tables and the fluffy armchair and the decorate wall. They order two cups of hot chocolate and a piece of Red Velvet cake, not a very Venice cake but apparently Keith likes it, from the way his eyes light up at the name.
“So,” Keith murmurs. “You’re on hiatus?”
Shiro shrugs. “More or less. I don’t know what you read on the newspaper…”
“I don’t believe the newspaper,” Keith adds immediately.
“Oh. Well, thanks,” Shiro says sincerely. “Anyway, things are dangerous and complicates, and when they are… everyone that finds himself in the middle has to stop, at least for a while.”
“They took you away from the thief’s case?”
“For now. But I count to return to it soon enough. I have a track.”
“I see.”
“Sorry I can’t tell you anything. Professional secret.”
“Of course.”
Keith lows his head, taking advantages of the waiter that brings their orders. The cocoa is sweet and dense, and a hot vapor swirls upon it. Keith attacks the cake first.
“How’s your course?” Shiro asks.
“Fine,” Keith answers briefly, head still low. Then he takes the cup and despite the hotness of the cocoa, he takes a long sip.
Shiro is still there, warming his hands with the cup. “I guess it was good.”
“It was,” Keith smiles. “I don’t expect it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the Florian.”
“Don’t you think the older and most famous bar of Venice should be good?”
Keith shrugs. “At this point, it’s a lot more touristic than anything. And touristic things aren’t so good, usually. I guess exception exist.”
“The entire Venice is an exception,” Shiro points out.
With a skeptical smile, Keith looks outside the window. San Marco place is pretty visible, completely fully of multicolor tourist that scream around, take selfie, and feed the pigeons at the point they are covered with them entirely. Pigeons that aren’t feed walk around looking for food in the dirt that overfills the trash can.
After all, it’s Saturday.
“Okay, I realize this isn’t the best example, but… I like the poetic, you know? Imagine this same place century ago.”
“You mean, when there was the plague?” Keith chuckles.
“Oh God, no, not that.” Shiro laughs. “But at least there wouldn’t be people around, because they would be dead. And less pigeons, probably.”
“But more rats,” Keith adds, amused. “They bring the plague, by the way.”
“You really want to ruin my fun, don’t you?” Shiro fakes annoyance.
“Well, it isn’t the mask plague one of the original carnival mask?” Keith replies, with a little smirk. “I guessed the plague was part of Venice’s poetic.”
“That, and the flood,” Shiro admits, with a big smile.
The cocoa has cool enough, so Shiro takes a sip of it and observes Keith: he’s gorgeous as always, with just a red leather jacket despite the cold outside.
“So, tell me about you,” Shiro asks. “You told me you’re from around Rome, right?”
Keith seems a little pale. “I don’t want to talk about me.” He finishes his cocoa. “I want you to talk. About Venice.”
“What?”
“Don’t you promise me a tour of the city? Well, I’m here, and I’m ready.”
Shiro grins. “Fine.” He takes the sip of his cocoa. “But when we’ll be over, just remember you asked for it.”
They leave the Florian, being welcomed from the cold wind. Natural, Shiro places a hand around Keith’s shoulder to keep him near so they can warm each other. Keith freezes a little at first, but he doesn’t run from Shiro’s touch.
It’s a complete tour of Shiro’s favorite spots and stories about Venice, most of them aren’t the most famous around, so they walk in calle and small streets that people don’t usually take. Places Keith feels more quiet about, but with a big smile every time Shiro has an anecdote about a calle, or a house. They lose the feeling of time, and they arrive at the Canal Grande only when it’s almost dark.
“You see that palace,” Shiro points out.
“The one with the white façade?” Keith asks. “Nice.”
“No, not that one. The one next to it, on the right.”
“Okay. Less nice.”
“It’s even less nice when you heard the story.” Shiro chuckles. “That’s Ca’ Dario palace, and legends say it’s coursed. No proof, but it’s real that of all his owners, at least nine died killed, or suicide, or with strange, strange accident.”
“Oh, wow. Nice place to live in.” Then, Keith smiles.
“Yep. But I guess it’s the ideal for his actual owner.”
Keith looks at him curiously, but Shiro doesn’t give any more explanation. Keith doesn’t need to know that Zarkon lives it, and that probably even the course fears him.
“How come all the legends about Venice are dark and grim? Innocent being killed for murdering, son killing their mother, ghosts that bring you in the dark of the night…”
“It’s true,” Shiro admits. “I guess that, for us human, is somehow easier to face fear if we listen to this kind of stories. But I promise, there’s also positive thing. Next time… maybe we can go on Murano, that’s the pretties and less grim place around.”
With a smile, Keith answers, “that’ll be nice.”
***
The one date became two, then three.
Keith is stuck in Venice. Red is at the moment on hiatus – even if Shiro seems to have lower down his guard, there is still Zarkon on their tail, and at that point it’s ridiculous to cover their interest in the Red Lion with other thefts if Zarkon discovered them already.
At the same time, they can’t leave until the take the Red Lion. They still haven’t find a way that don’t result in their painful death, so for the moment Keith can enjoy a little of normal life he hasn’t have for a very long time. Because even if his official excuse to stay with Shiro is to check on his investigations (even if he suspects at least Pidge unmasked him on that) he really enjoys his company.
Shiro is gorgeous, witty, funny and gentle. He’s like perfection in only one person, and Keith won’t push his luck into not staying with him.
The point is, Keith doesn’t really like Venice.
He isn’t a type of cities, to be fair, and he definitely see the poetic of a mountain village, or an isolated big golden beach. Big cities are suffocating, grey, and with too much people. Venice is by far the worst one, in a different way of chaotic city like Rome, but definitely a city Keith doesn’t appreciate. Maybe it was the fact that it’s surrounded by dark water, or the dirtiness that the incredible amount of tourist in such a small place leaves, but Keith doesn’t see any poetic in it.
Yet… Shiro makes him possible. He makes him see beauty in it, in the way he speaks so passionately about it, in the way he knows everything about it, the way his eyes brighten and shine when he talks about it, and the way he smiles when Keith seems interested at his tales.
He makes Keith sees Venice as he sees it.
“I have something for you.”
Shiro takes the notebook Keith is giving him and he leaps thought it, a nice surprise expression appears on his face. It’s plenty of Keith’s sketches of the place he and Shiro visited together, but without the tourist and the dirt. And the pigeons.
“You did this?”
Keith nods. “It’s your Venice. I want to depict it.”
He does expect Shiro thanking him, even being moved by it. He doesn’t expect Shiro kissing him with force and passion, but he doesn’t complain. In the moment their lips touch, it’s like the stars align and everything is right.
“My house or your house,” Shiro pants.
“Yours is nearer,” Keith says.
Yet, they spend much time than needed, still kissing from time to time.
“I have to say, I’m not usually…” Shiro starts, a little embarrassed once they enter in his small apartment, yet he hasn’t stop to kiss or touch Keith once.
“Lube. And condom,” Keith orders.
“Yes…”
He takes it from the bottom of a wardrobe, and they don’t seem to be have used from a very long time. But the reason of Shiro’s shyness as Keith hands start to caress is skin is another entirely, who has nothing to do for not having sex for so long. Once Keith manages to take off Shiro’s shirt, Shiro steps aside a little, ashamed; his torso naked reveals the prosthetic arm in all his glory and the scar that cover his torso and back. The scars looks like cuts, but some are bigger and deeper, coming probably from the explosion that took his arm.
Shiro chuckles a little, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m probably false advertisement.”
“You’re gorgeus,” Keith whispers. He cuts the space between him and Shiro and slowly caresses with his hand Shiro’s hip. Shiro holds his breath, but he doesn’t move from the touch. Keith falls on the ground, on his knees, and kisses one of Shiro’s scar.
“Please fuck me,” Shiro whispers. He’s already hard.
Keith doesn’t waste the moment and pushes Shiro on the bed. But in the end is Shiro that trapped him under his arms and starts to undresses him like Keith is some precious work of art. Shiro does look at Keith like he’s so wonderful and precious and for once in his life Keith forgets about himself, forget about being a broken boy with no dreams anymore and a suicide mission to make his life somehow worthy.
Shiro’s gaze and the way he kisses him makes Keith think he’s actually worthy of something, of some happiness. Worthy of someone like Shiro.
As to be expected, Shiro is a sweet lover, one that like to take his time and be sure both of them love the moment. But it’s also a sap, and a bottom, and Keith enjoys greatly his moans as Keith sucks his dick first and fucks him later. He enjoys his soft and relaxed face as he caresses Keith’s face as it’s the most precious thing ever.
It’s an illusion, Keith knows, but the best one he’s ever had. That’s the reason why he shut his cellphone (even if Pidge can track him, at least he won’t hear their calls) and remains to sleep there, in Shiro’s bed, wrapped in his big and warm arms.
He wakes up at the smell of coffee: Shiro is up and in the kitchen, but the bed is still warm, and his smell still there. Keith rolls on the sheets, enjoying it. Then, lazily, he tries to recall back his cellphone (there is a limit of the time he can make Hunk worries) and for mistake he makes a paper fells on the ground.
He takes it and opens it: it’s an invitation for Zarkon’s carnival party.
Shiro finds him with that in his hand, when he comes back with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“I bet you didn’t expect me to be able to make coffee… oh.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to pry. It fall and-”
“It’s fine,” Shiro shakes his head and gives Keith the cup. He takes the invitation and put it back inside the drawer. “Carnival party are fun. I wish I can bring you to one, just… not this one.”
“You don’t have to justify with me…”
“No,” Shiro states. “The invitation is from Zarkon. I won’t bring you anywhere near him.” Keith knows something about the story, but Shiro has really never talk about it. But tonight something shifted between them. “I was undercover for almost a year in their organization. They recruit me when I was promoted detective, and I got the permission to make this investigation. I have to do things I regretted – nothing that hurt people, but still… something I can’t look myself in the mirror for.”
“Shiro…” Keith places a hand on his shoulder.
“But in the end, it was all useless. They found out I was a spy and they tried to destroy me and all my work. And they succeeded. I lost a year of my life, an arm, my dignity, for nothing.”
“You don’t lose your dignity,” Keith replies.
“You’re sweet.” Shiro smiles and kisses him again. “Oh, well,” he murmurs. “Maybe it’ll come the time to take down Zarkon.”
Keith regrets not being able to tell Shiro everything. But yes, someone is going to take Zarkon down, and Keith has now another reason to do it. Keith will do something for this man, probably, at that point. Once Shiro leaves Keith alone again, Keith takes back the invitation and takes few shot with his cell phone.
A thing like that, Keith can forger with a hand behind his back.
***
With a little bit of delay, Shiro presents himself at Zarkon’s party. Some of the guests are already there, but not many, and not even the guest of the house, Zarkon himself: as per tradition, the real party wouldn’t have started before at least one hour after the invitation time.
Shiro presents his invitation at one of the guard at the entrance and, after a brief check, he’s permitted the entrance. He wears a pretty traditional mask, a white one that covers his entire face, and a wig with black and silver stripes that fall elegantly on his shoulder; the dress his black, with silver sewed, and the jacked his long, opened in the center to reveal the purple shirt behind, and then fall with a puff of fur just before his knees. He has a rod with him, decorated with the same color of the clothes.
The white gloves hide his prosthetic arm, but not enough for Sendak to not recognize him. It’s probably Sendak has left some guards to check on Shiro to exactly know what clothes would be wear, and in that moment Shiro regrets not having being petty and putting the plague mask on.
“I’m glad you accepted the invitation,” Sendak murmurs, with a sweetness that isn’t good on him.
Still, Shiro accepts the glass of wine he’s offering: Sendak isn’t going to assassinate him with poison on Zarkon’s party, it would have killed the mood. As he sips the wine, he observes Sendak that has a mask that covers only his eyes and nothing to cover his hair. The blue pants with the high heels and the red doublet aren’t much elegant, and Shiro realizes he seems more ready for a war than a party.
“Don’t get this wrong,” Shiro says. “I’m here becaus you surely invited me for some reason, and I’m interested to know what.”
“You’re so suspicious,” Sendak appears offended. “Can’t we enjoy the company of an old friend?”
“I didn’t realize being friends means try to kill each other and leaving one without an arm,” Shiro rebuts, “but I guess you learn something every day.”
Sendak’s smile is feral, satisfied. “You know we could take you back anytime, if you show us a little of loyalty. You were a great agent.”
It’s a tempting offer, a way to try to amend his fault by work undercover again, but with more experience on his side. Still, his wounds are still pretty fresh, and he has no will to return back so early on that life, no when his guilty is still fresh. He doesn’t forget the humiliation of having fail so bad, and the bad feeling as he see Zarkon leaving unscattered, all charges dropped out for lack of proof. But at this point, Shiro doesn’t want to walk in the mud again only to take him down.
With a long breath, he asks, serious. “Why do you invite me here, Sendak?”
“Let’s do it like that,” Sendak smiles. “One question each, but we promise to answer honestly.”
“I could have some trasmit with me,” Shiro says.
“Nah. You learn your lesson about that kind of things. Also, you’re out the investigation for now.”
There is no point into asking how Sendak can know that, Shiro already knows they probably have some spy in the police department. He takes another sip of wine.
“Fine, but I go first and I want to change the question.”
“Shoot.”
“What about the paintings. Alfor’s. The Castle of Lions collection. Why are they so important?”
For a second, a frown passes on Sendak’s face before he returns to his normal smile. “Legends around the life of a crazy painter.”
“Explain,” Shiro demands.
He read about Alfor’s studies a lot, but none of the reveal something particular about those paintings, they’re even the less expensive of his entire collection, even if Shiro suspects they will aquire value once they’re all five together again. Yet, not so much value thai s worthy the elaborate plan Red made to aquire them, not the fact that Zarkon sent some killers to kill him, something that showed his irritation and impatient.
“Alfor was a genious as a painter. Do you know that most of his paintings can’t be forgery because of the unique way he created it, a mixture of science and art?” At Shiro’s positive nods, Sendak continues, “but, as genious often are, he was a little bit crazy, and at the end he became a little bit paranoich. He feared people want to kill him, or worse.”
“Since the way he died, I’m not sure those fears were unfounded.”
Sendak shrugs. “Maybe. Even if his death was deemed as accident… anyway, Alfor believed it, and once said around that he hide a big secret inside some special paintings of him. Considering that Alfor lived a modest life, in the black market someone spread the voice that Alfor hid a big treasure somewhere and the painting are a key to it.”
“And the paitings would be the Castle of Lions’ collection?”
“It’s a story, of course, because they’re nothing in them,” Sendak nods. “They’re just paintings, and with little value. Alfor didn’t hide anything, all his money and property went to his daughter, who lives in America and I don’t think she’s ever back since his death. So…” Sendak shrugs again. “I guess someone still believe it.”
“Yet Zarkon possesses one of those paitings, and he seems ready to kill everyone that tries to take if from him.”
Sendak doesn’t answer to that. “That paiting has an affective value, for the boss. He and Alfor used to be friend, once. Alfor painted the five lions in onor of the group of friend he was in as a child, in the street of Naples. Unfortunately, out of five, the boss is the only one to survive.” He makes a sad smile, who looks out of place in his face. “So when it happened the occasion to acquire the painting, the boss took it.”
Shiro doesn’t believe a word of it. He’s sure there’s something more on this story, and the paintings hide more than a secrets. But yet Sendak gave him some interesting information that Shiro is going to check later just to be sure.
“But that’s my turn now,” Sendak smirks. “So… do you think Red will try to infliltrate at the party to steal the painting?”
Shiro widen his eyes. “That’s it. That’s the reason you invited me here.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t make a fuss of it.”
“I don’t. It’s just that I didn’t expect anything from you and still got disappointed.” But, unwillingly, his eyes scan the room looking for the people in the ballet room, all dressed up with their costumes and masks and therefore irriconoscible. “Do you really think Red will come?”
“He’s stilla live, isn’t it?” Sendak replies, with a meaningful look.
“He’s been quiet lately, for what it seems, but…” Shiro’s voice trails off. He doubts Red resigns to his objectives, even more considered how far he went for taking the Castle of Lions collection.
“Let’s make a deal,” Sendak says. “If you catch him, it’s all yours. Otherwise…” he shrugs. “One of the thing I love of Venice it’s that it’s pretty easy to make bodies disappear forever. Enjoy the party.”
He leaves Shiro’s side as Shiro shivers a little. He has no doubt Sendak can make his promise about Red’s fate, and he has a lot of doubt he won’t try something even if Shiro catches Red. But, first, Shiro has to do it.
With another sip of wine, Shiro moves nearer the banquet table. He places back his mask, hoping that nobody else notice it. The banquet table is the perfect spot for looking around the place: he gives him the excuse to remain still and standing here, playing the dumb guy only interested in the food.
He doubts a thief interested on stealing a painting will be interested at all in the banquet, so he takes off from his imaginary list all the people that look over interested in eating, and they aren’t few. Lukily, the guests have such unique mask that it’s easy to keep track of everyone.
It’s just natural that his attention gets drawn by one mask in particular. The guest wear a bright red dress, with a long skirt with silk and golden lace. The mask that cover entire the face is red with mouth and eyebrow underlined with golden. The chest piece of the dress has a complicated motive with roses and lions with golden seewed between the red, and the wig is made with red feathers and fur, like a mane. Long slevees cover entirely the arms and ends with golden silk, and golden gloves cover the hands.
The feature, as the dress, looks feminine, as elegant is the way they’re moving, but with that mask Shiro’s not 100% sure of the gender.
Red, as Red the thief.
A coincidence too good to be true.
Yet, the guest has arrived in the best possible moment: Zarkon has arrived just a couple of minutes before, and the attention of the guests is more on the house’s owner than the new arrival, which allow the Red guest to avoid any conversation.
They don’t move near the banquet table, they just move around keeping the dress with the gloved hands and walking careful in the banquet all. With the mask on, it’s almost impossible to throw furtive glare around. Shiro doesn’t miss the fact that they place themselves just on the opposite side of the great stair that bring upstairs, and the small doors at its side.
Whe the music start, Shiro takes some step forwards.
The interest of Zarkon’s presence has wore down, and Zarkon himself has excused him for some conversation to join Sendak and another of his men near the entrance, so people starts noticing the Red guest near the window. It’s a bright presence, impossible to not notice.
Shiro ignores the protocol and goes directly for them.
“Do you concede me a dance?” he asks, with a small bow and leaning his hand fowards.
The Red Guest looks a little around, behind Shiro’s shoulder, as they’re checking some way of escape, then they tilt their head a little and accept Shiro’s hand.
Shiro guides them to the center of the ballet room, where people are already moved to give space for the dancer, and some other pairings are there, to Shiro’s relief, dancing at his side. The music is the traditional one from the Venice Carnival, and so are the steps to follow.
It’s been a while since Shiro has danced it, since he’s used to more casual parties at carnival recently, but he studied it inside his passion for the city. Red seems to be a good dancer too, and he follows Shiro’s guide keeping his clothes with a hand and the other tight into Shiro’s hand. At the light of the room, thier mask sparkles around, and so does the dress.
“Your dress is beautiful,” Shiro murmurs, as the music requires more vicinity between the two of them. Red answers with just a nod of his head.
Shiro places his hand around their waist and put them even close, as their hands are still together. Red tilts his head on one side and places his free hand on Shiro’s shoulder, letting the long skirt floating around them as they move.
“You’re friend with Zarkon?” Shiro asks again. “First time in here?”
Still not answer from Red, who just press a little the finger they have on Shiro’s shoulder.
“Mysterious. I like it.”
It’s a strange sensation, but dancing with their body so nearer give Shiro a sense of peace. Which is unlikely for him, that avoids physical contact for long after the accident. It’s like his body feels that it knows who the other person is. Red, Shiro thinks: I was upon him when I almost caught him. It may be his body after all.
When the music of that particular song finishes, they remain still at the center of the room. Shiro barely register the small clapping around him as he keeps Red nearer. He wants to take off that mask, but even if he does, he hasn’t never see Red’s real face so it’ll be pointless.
It’s Red the first one to move aside from his grip. They still don’t talk, and they excuse themselves with a small bow, with the skirt a little lifts with his left hand. Then they rush back to the side, and shakes their head a little at other guests that try to ask them for another dance. Shiro follows them as they reach for the banquet table and take a glass of wine.
They don’t drink. Shiro moves aside, on the other side of the room, nearer the stairs, and he notices that other people invites Red to sit down with them near the window. They still doesn’t talk.
Everything around Red is bright and too noticeable. It would be stupid for a thief with his ability to present to a party organized by people that already tried to kill him with his signature color as a dress. And everything around the Red Guest is suspicious, giving that they don’t talk and try to stay otuside the attention – clearly failing.
Yet.
Yet, Shiro’s realizes, being under the light even when it would have been better not too is exactly Red’s strategy. He sends the warning letters about his theft so people will be there and he can take advantage of the confusion around. He dress of Red during his theft, so people will know him and they aren’t sneaky on him. Damn, even his main plain is based on putting something less important under the light as he stole what was really important.
So Red isn’t the Red Guest, Shiro concludes. They’re an accomplice (Shiro doubts from long that Red can do everything alone) or something that has been paid. Either way, they’re a bait for someone.
Someone like Zarkon, that put guards around the entrance and the stairs but probably none at the upper floor, counting on the alarm system (something Red can get rid off) and the fact that Red would use the party to sneak inside.
Shiro moves again next to the banquet table, observing the situation. From time to time, the Red Guest sends glare in his direction. Then, a group ball starts, and despite his refusal Red is dragging inside the dancing group. Shiro takes his chances and walks towards the stair.
“Move, I’m a cop,” he says as the guards tries to stop him. They are convinced when he takes off his badge and show it to everyone.
It’s improbable they wouldn’t warn Sendak or Zarkon about his movement, but hopefully they will leave him alone for now, since there isn’t any sign of dangerous. Yet, when he’s on the top of the stair, Shiro gives a look: Sendak is whispering with one of his men and doesn’t pay Shiro any attention.
Being in that house for so long, Shiro knows how to move and where to find the paiting. The room is a little studiolo, with a window over the canal; Zarkon uses that room to play cards with his usually closer men. Shiro used to be one of them.
At that time, the Red Lion painting was already there, but Shiro remembered to not having paid attention to it, both because he was more focused on remaining alive, and becaure it’s really very insignificant.
It’s hung in the opposite side of the window, just above the empty fireplace. It’s small, aroundo 20x40, and it show a Red lion with yellow red, sitting down under some rock, as a vulcan explodes behind it and flames erupt around. The color are vivid, the brushes sweet, but overall the subject is boring and nota s good as other Alfor’s painting.
Shiro is dying to understand why Red gives so much importance at that collection. From Zarkon, it’s true it can be a matter of honor, because it’s said criminals don’t like when they’re the victim of a crime. Yet…
A rumor from behind distracted him from his thoughts. He turns around, but the room still look empty, the window closed. There aren’t any bars, because it is an historical palace subjected to stricter rules, but the room is heavily surveilled by both camera and an alarm at the window.
Yet, Shiro has one of his gut feelings. He frowns at the camera, then moves and open the window: non alarm sounds, but the wind let a rope swing in front of him. Immediately, he sticks out and look down.
A man with a dark suit is trying to climb back the rope to return back to a gondola just below him. Shiro grabs the rope and the man stops, looking at him. Then jumps not very delicately on the gondola. He has nothing of Red’s agility and elegance, not considering the lack of the usually Red clothes.
But there’s another one with red dress that night, and now he’s looking at Shiro from the windows of a room on the below floor, with the empty look of his white and golden mask. In a second, he disappeared inside, and Shiro moves too.
He jumps over the steps of the stair from three to three, and this time he has no doubt his attics are attratting the attention of everyone, not only Sendak, but he doesn’t care. He rushes towards the room that, by his memory, his one of the bathroom at the first floor.
When he reaches it, he finds that Red has got rid already of his costume: the dress with the sleeves, and the mask with the wig lay down in a corner messy, while Red himself, a swimming black suit on, his already on the window sill of the windows, his black hair tied up in a messy bun, a diver’s mask and a snorkel on his face.
Shiro bits his lips for not screaming his name and runs towards him. He manages to brush his shoulder just when Red dives in the canal. Not enough to grasp him and catch him, but enough to make him swirls in the air.
So now they’re looking face to face, and despite the mask and snorkel that covered Red’s face, he’s still very recognizable. Especially those big, blue eyes that are now looking at Shiro, widened opened in a scared and incredulous expression…. Just before Red’s body sinks in the dark water of the canal with a loud splash and he disappears entirely from the sight.
“Keith…” Shiro murmurs under his breath.
He barely registers Sendak’s presence at his side, the way he barks orders at his men about the painting and following the thieves along the canal. He just stand there, wondering how his relationship just shattered to piece like a carnival mask.
***
When he returns at the base, the only thing he wants is to put himself in the shower and hope to cancel, along with the dirty water that wet completely him, also the memory of the night. Instead, he has to suffer through Lance’s complain first.
“I told you! I was supposed to be the distraction and Keith the thief!” he’s screaming in no one direction. “I’m the soul of the party. Keith is the emo boy that can enter from a window without being noticed.”
“You know we chose that for a reason,” Pidge replies.
“And I disagree with that!”
To be fair, Pidge and Hunk were right in their decision. Lance is great into being a distraction, but in the event of a party he would have lose himself soon enough, being loud and funny and completely forgetting that he’s supposed to be there to check that Keith’s way is free. It happened before. Lance is abler when he has to bring people on his side by himself, not when he has to surveil things. He becomes boring faster.
Usually Keith would have bite back and engages in some friendly bartending, but the reason is that Lance is reacting in that way because they failed and they’re all sad and bitter, and nothing will result in something funny or positive for them.
“At least, the detective didn’t see your face,” Keith says curt, and the gravity of what happened hit all of them immediately. Lance stops blabbering and bites his lips.
Keith doesn’t let them start a discussion about it, it’s too tired for it. He moves towards the bathroom and closed inside. Here, inside the warm of the hot water, he manages to cool down his brain.
It’s heartbroken, that’s for sure. The look on Shiro’s face… damn. He didn’t want Shiro to find out like that. But, deep inside, he realizes he didn’t believe their story would have survived more than a couple of dreamy months. Disappointed but not surprised, then.
That relationship was rotten to the core, just like that damn city. Keith decides he would do anything to end his mission and being finally able to live Venice and not turning back.
The other gather together in the dining room. Pidge is checking desperately websites and camera around, probably to be sure there isn’t any chance Shiro can find them now that he knows it’s Keith.
“Do you have a way to contact Zarkon without being tracking?”
“Of course!” she replies, and only then she realizes what he asked. “What do you have in mind?” and he tone suggest she suspects she’s not going to like it.
Keith doesn’t answer. The eyes of the others are on him as he opens one of his boxes and takes off the colors, the brushes and a canvas. He takes everything with him as he moves towards the exit of the room. The others hurried to follow him.
“What you have in mind?” Hunk askes, trotting at his side.
“We can’t wait anymore, because we’re too exposed at this point,” Keith says. “We need to take that paint, and do it now. We need to deal with Zarkon.”
“He’s not the type you want to deal with,” Pidge points out.
“He will have no choice,” Keith replies. “If he wants to take back the paintings.”
They are now in one of the room at the first floor, one it was used as a storage one time, but it has a big window on one side. But it was night, and the room was lightening only by the artificial light. Not the best condition for painting, but Keith is too angry for resting, and too scared to lose time. He places the colors on the ground and the empty canvas on the tripod.
“You know that Alfor’s paintings can’t be replicate,” Lance says. “Not even by you.”
“It’s doesn’t matter.” Keith has opened the safe and takes off a painting, that frees from the protective container. It’s the Blue Lion. “I need to make just one copy that seems real. Zarkon knows we have at least three of them at this point, so at least we’ll make use of this information.”
“We can’t deal with Zarkon,” Pidge replies. “Otherwise we would have done it as first thing, using the Black Lion! We did everything to avoid it.”
“And look where it brought us,” Keith shouts back. “We’re wanted criminals and Zarkon still know about us, so everything was for nothing.”
There nothing the others can say, because it’s true. They failed, there’s not sugarcoating it. Keith places the Blue Lion on another tripod right next the empty one.
Lance crosses his arms. “Then, what’s your plan?”
“Zarkon or one of his expect will need the Red Lion to check if my painting is the real thing or not. We will take that occasion to slip the Red Lion from his grasps.”
It’s risky, he knows, and the others think that so, but at the same time they don’t have another proposal for it.
“If we’re going to do it,” Pidge starts, “we’ll need a very solid plane. One that don’t result in any of our death.”
“You think about it,” Keith orders. “Check the place in Venice where the exchange can be safe for us, check the camera, everything. I’ll make the paint.”
“Okay, fine.” Hunk takes the brush from Keith’s hand. “We’ll do as you said. Only if you take some rest before. They’re not going at our door for now, we can assure you. Go rest.”
If even Hunk is so contrary, Keith has no chance to disagree. They all goes to bed, but Keith’s night is tiring and fully of nightmares about Shiro.
***
Shiro wakes up the morning later and still feels empty inside. The mask and the clothes of the night before lay down messy on the floor, and they seem a grim reminder that the party has been real, Red has been real, and Keith’s face under the mask has been real.
With the small light ray that hit the table, Shiro notices Keith’s notebook placed there. Stumbling, he reaches it and opens it. The drawings are nice, intensely: Shiro can imagine Keith bowed to the notebook, biting his lips as his hands slip on the paper. They’re Shiro’s favorite spots.
Keith didn’t have to go so hard, yet. He didn’t have to make Shiro fell in love with him when he wanted just some information from him.
Because, at that point, there are no doubts in Shiro’s mind that it was all an elaborate masterplan for Red the thief – Keith, it was Keith – to keep an eye on him. Shiro risked to stop him at least a couple of time before Keith got hired at Sal’s. He should be flattered that Keith thought of him as a dangerous man that needed to be check out.
With this information, Shiro realizes that Keith’s behavior was a little bit suspicious since the start, starting for the flirting part with him at the beginning. But Keith has always refused to share too much personal information; he said something about his childhood, but very little about their last years. He seemed to have no friends, nor any tells about his art history master. He let Shiro talk and talk, and kept himself under high walls.
He also had the party invitation in his hand when Shiro wasn’t looking.
He’s been so blind, so gay. And he is a sore loser.
Even if he’s supposed to take a day off, he’s too restless. Keith won’t give up on the Red Lion, that much is clear. He went too far for it, and whatever the reason was, it must be important. So Shiro is sure he isn’t going to leave Venice very soon. He still can find him.
Of course he wasn’t at Sal’s (“He quit this morning, without a warning. I didn’t expect it, he seems a responsible guy. I’m in big trouble now.”) and the cellphone Shiro has isn’t active anymore. At this point, even the name could be faked.
He didn’t even greet the colleagues as he sits down at his desk and searches for any information about Keith Koh. To his surprise, it’s a name that exist, and he correspond, or at least it seems, at the Keith he knows. Age and description correspond, and even the place of birth. The residence is listed in a little town around Rome, but when Shiro checks the land register he finds out the house is owned by another person.
With a small research at INPS database, he finds out Keith has listed different jobs around, all certified, and the dates corresponded exactly to Red’s thefts in the different cities. Funny enough, he’s also listed to the student of the various universities, just like he’s listed in the art master of Venice, even if he never did any exams and he never attended any lessons.
It’s a nice cover: for the police is almost impossible to check all the students that move from one city to another to study, and Keith has been careful enough to change his city during the start of the university year and wait a little for his thefts, so the police won’t notice the connection between his arrival and the thefts.
It was a good plan. He’s clever.
But now it’s over. Unfortunately, Shiro doesn’t have any pictures of Keith (he doesn’t like it, apparently, and now Shiro knows why) and he can’t make the identikit going around freely or he would put Keith at Zarkon’s mercy. As much as Shiro hates what he did, he couldn’t bring himself to put the life or another human being in such danger. He doesn’t want to lose any more piece of his humanity.
He shares the identikit only with the people he trusts, and he doesn’t even tell Iverson, otherwise he will be put out of the case immediately. He’s pretty sure that with the information he has and the help of his colleagues, he can find leads to Keith soon enough.
Yet, Shiro’s plan fails spectacularly. Keith looks like a ghost.
“Maybe he already left,” James proposes the idea once, but Shiro shakes his head.
“Even if he did, he’ll be back. Just like Lance Serrano.”
“We don’t know if he’s back,” Ryan points out.
“He’s not back in Naples, and nobody has seen him around. He’s here. They’re here.”
Shiro goes personally around all the place Keith has drew on his notebook. Maybe there is a particular point of view that he chose that will reveal a street he attends often, or a window he could have peep from.
The only thing he find at a certain point is one of Zarkon’s ship waiting for it at the dock.
“Get on,” Sendak says dangerously, and Shiro realizes he can’t say no. They’re in a crowded place, and Shiro is sure, from Sendak’s gaze, that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill some of the people in order to take Shiro. If Zarkon is risking this much, it may be important.
So Shiro nods and sits down next to Sendak on the boat, who leaves immediately.
As the boat goes, the notebook fells in the water and sinks, disappearing in the dark.
***
Even if it’s a working day, San Marco square is full of people, tourist especially. Nobody pays attention at Keith as he crosses the square towards the cathedral, the painting safe under his sweatshirt. The weather is cloudy, which gives him the perfect excuse to keep his hood up his head. He was surprised Shiro hadn’t spread the entire city of Keith’s identikit, and a small part of him – a smaller, stupid part – hopes there was a little bit of respect from it.
Yet, he can’t be sure nobody will recognize him, and going around with a hidden fake stole painting is bad enough. Pidge demeans him as an idiot to present himself in front of Zarkon with his real aspect, with only a bad wig to cover his hair.
For Keith, is part of his plan.
First of all, he can’t be sure it will be Zarkon himself and not one of his minions to present at the meeting. Second, at that point the best way to act is as naïve thieves that don’t know what they’re doing. Someone interested only at some fast money. He does know it’s a weak excuse (their trick to hide the only theft that mattered were articulated) but they failed two times with Zarkon, so it isn’t surprising they’re giving up.
Yet, walking towards the main door of the church, Keith does feel a little stupid.
“I’m going in,” he mutters under his breath, fully known Pidge and the others are listening through his cell phone.
Once at the door, Keith takes off the hood. He pays the entrance fee, passes the control at the entrance and finds himself inside the impotent cathedral. San Marco is suffocating and claustrophobic yet magnificent, and Keith walks with his head up to admire the beauty of the nave’s fresco. Then he turns around a columns: next to the wall between two chapels, there is a small wooden door.
It’s not locket, as it should have been, so Keith guesses the other person is already arrived, even earlier than scheduled. Not a good sign.
Keith sends some looks around and when he’s sure most of the tourists aren’t interested in his whereabouts he opens the door and rushes inside. He climbs the small stone stairs, with high steps, in a walk that seems to last an eternity.
Then, the light of the sun that penetrated the clouds hits his eyes, and Keith emerges from the dark stairs to the porticoes that decorate San Marco’s façade. He walks as much as possible near the wall, so people from the square won’t spot it, even if they probably will think he’s authorized to be there.
His breath leaves his lungs as he realizes that Zarkon himself is there, waiting for him. Ignoring the prudence, he’s looking directly to the square, hands placed to the parapet between two columns with different color than the others, the long purple coat that waves grim around his body.
Gritting a little his teeth, Keith takes off the painting from his sweatshirt and keeps his in his arm, as he walks near Zarkon.
“Do you know about these columns?” Zarkon says suddenly. One of his hand caresses the rock of the column at his right. He doesn’t seem to have speak to Keith specifically, yet Keith hasn’t hid his presence, and he feels like answering.
“They sign the place where the death penalty were proclaimed, just in front of everyone.”
Zarkon turns his head to look at Keith, who stopped a few meters from him. Zarkon’s head tilts a little to the right and his eyes narrows. But there is a creepy smirk on his face, and the voice his pleasant as he comments, “so you know. I should have expect that.”
“So what?” Keith murmurs. “Do you want me to turn around the column,” he nods with the head at another white column, which base has been consumed from walking in the past centuries, “to be spared from death?”
“That would be a waste of time,” Zarkon replies. “I guess the great thief Red has enough fame to be able to do something so simple. If you are Red, of course.”
“I am.”
“Show me the painting.”
Keith unwraps the painting from the carton it’s protected in, and he keeps it from the borders high in front of his chest. He doesn’t move on a step towards Zarkon, who is looking at the painting with a feral hunger.
“Give it to me.”
“The money, first.”
“I need to evaluate if it is the real deal and not a fake.”
“I can say the same,” Keith replies. “Show me you have the money, first, then you can call your expert to check the painting.”
Zarkon nods a little with his head. It’s strange, Keith notices, that he doesn’t have anything with him. Of course you can’t enter San Marco with a suitcase full of money, but he should have something to hide the payment inside. He puts his hand on the coat’s pocket and for a second Keith fears he’s been able to bring a gun inside the Cathedral.
Instead, he takes off a cell phone. He presses the screen for a second, before direct it to Keith. They’re still a few meters away, so Keith squints his eyes to see on the small screen.
It’s a video, and from the numbers in the right corner, a live transmission from some camera. The video shows Shiro, with his usual detective suit, sitting on the corner of an empty room. The area is dark, but Keith recognizes stone wall from some really old building fundament. Shiro’s look is serious, as he looks straight in the camera, almost annoyed by the entire situation. He looks unarmed, the suit is just a little bit scrambles.
Now, if Keith would have been the true criminal mastermind people made him to be, he would have bluffed. He would have been able to hide his surprise and his discomfort over a mask of cold indifference and maybe, maybe, going away with it.
Instead, the situation hits him as a train, and first surprise and worries emerges with his open mouth and wide eyes, then the anger manifests with the grip stronger on the painting and a bite on his bottom lips. When he lifts the gaze from the cell phone’s screen, he knows from Zarkon’s satisfied smile that he can’t bluff anymore.
“This wasn’t part of the agreement.”
“Isn’t it? I feel you may find it an adequate payment.”
“Shiro has nothing to do with this,” Keith complains.
“You’re the one that involved it in this,” Zarkon points out, and the worse thing is that he’s right, “so deal with the consequences now.”
“What do you want?”
“My, my. I believe you to be a smarter boy.” His tone and his face hardener. “I want the paintings, of course. All four of them. I know you have the Black Lion too.”
“Fine,” Keith spats, between his gritted teeth.
“I’ll expected them tonight at one o’clock, just near the dock of the San Maria church, behind the Thieves calle. I feel it’s fit.” He puts back the cell phone in the pocket. “I would hurry if I were you.”
Keith doesn’t wait: he turns and the runs back to the stairs, at the same trying to hide back the painting inside the sweatshirt.
“And Red,” Zarkon calls back again, “be sure to bring me the real deal next time.”
Keith doesn’t stop or faltered; he knows Zarkon is taking a lucky shot because from that distance and without an original to confront the painting to, there is no way to tell it’s a fake. Still, he has a shiver in his back.
He almost dumps some people in his running outside the cathedral, and he keeps looking at his back, fearing someone is following him. He puts back his hood and hides in the fares corner of the ship as he return back to the island. He walks around in circle for a while and only when he’s 100% sure no one followed him, he reaches the villa.
The others are visibly relief to see him back in one piece, but he doesn’t spare them an explanation or a greetings. He shoves the painting in Hunk’s arm as he gets back two more canvas and goes to the room adapted at his study. The other follow him and look as he prepares his thing for painting.
“What happened?” Hunk dares to ask, timidly.
“He got Shiro,” Keith answers dry. “He wants all three painting for this night. I was stupid, I should have prepared them beforehand. Whatever. I still have time.”
“You want to make two forgeries of Alfor’s painting within an hour? No way, man,” Lance comments. “Not even you can do something like that.”
“I don’t need them to be perfect. I just need to be accurate enough to gain some time for Shiro. I can…” his voice drains off a little. “I have tricks to force the expert to check the Blue Lion forgery first. That should be enough. He had to be enough.”
“Still, they won’t have the time to dry,” Hunk points out. “I think Zarkon will see that.”
“Then find a way to dry them faster!” Keith shouts. It’s a blow of rage and stress, and he regrets him immediately. “Sorry. We’re all under pressure.”
“I don’t want to be the one to say this, really,” Pidge starts. “But are we 100% sure Shirogane isn’t working with Zarkon? Because we know he’s used to be undercover in Zarkon’s organization and, well, he got invited to Zarkon’s party just a week ago.”
“It’s a little bit suspicious,” Hunk agrees. “How did Zarkon find about you and Shirogane? Maybe Shirogane told him. They may have an agreement about it. Zarkon gets the paintings, the detective catches the great thief Red and gets a promotion.”
Keith bits his lips. He can’t explain to them, but deep inside he knows Shiro. He’s the one dating him for all this time. Shiro wouldn’t join Zarkon, not even for something like that.
“Also,” Pidge adds, “you don’t owe Shirogane shit. I know you’ve dating the man a little, but don’t forget it wasn’t real. He will arrest you as he get the chance to do it.”
Before Keith has any chance to reply, Lance intervenes, “No. I agree with Keith.” Which is strange. “We did very nasty things in the last year, because we thought it was the right thing. But I trace a line at risking someone life over it. If we have a chance to save the detective, we have to take it.”
“If he’s really in danger,” Pidge says.
Keith nods. “Okay. Pidge, I want you to investigate on the matter, see if we can find something about it. Hunk, Lance, created something that can make me out of there alive. I’ll paint.”
***
They’ve been prudent and discreet, but not enough apparently. None of Zarkon’s men gave him any explanation about the suddenly kidnapping, but there is no need. Shiro fully knows that the only reason Zarkon has to cross the line and attack a police detective are those damn paintings. The only things that surprise him is that Zarkon thinks Shiro’s presence can constitute a leverage against Keith. After all, Zarkon should know something about using people, so he should have recognize Keith’s methods.
From his cell – a small quadrangular spot between stone wall that looks like the fundament of an old church, something Venice is plenty – he can’t see outside, so he can’t know where they are and how much time his passed. Given his tiredness and his hunger – they were impolite enough to not bring him food for dinner - he suspects it’s already past midnight.
They can’t keep him longer without anyone finds out about his disappearance. So Sendak’s arrival isn’t incredibly unexpected.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says at Shiro’s glare. “You know I would have prefer better circumstances. But you’re the one that rejected all of them.”
“It happened when you almost killed someone,” Shiro replies, dry. Yet, he docile lets them handcuff him again and walks next to Sendak out of his cell. “How did you know?” he asks.
Sendak understands immediately. “You should know at this point we have eyes everywhere. Including the police station.” He throws him a meaningful look. “I’m just disappointed you got involved with a second rate thief.”
Shiro doesn’t answer. As much as he doesn’t consider Red a ‘second rate thief’, it isn’t even in the mood to defend him after his tricks. He wonders why they’re so sure Keith will come for him.
After the long stone hallway, they reach a more large space, who looks like an old chapel, buried under another building. The light is dim, but there is some electricity coming down there. Zarkon is there with at least twelve of his men. He and another one are standing in front of an altar, where the Red Lion painting is placed, just right under a lamp, the most enlighten spot of the entire room.
Shiro’s heart, unwilling, misses a beat as he notices Keith is there too. He wears a black jacket with a blue collar Shiro has never seen, and glasses. Sexy, Shiro thinks and the bites his lips in regret. Keith’s squeezing a package at his chest and by the form and the dimension, Shiro guesses he’s keeping the other Castle of Lions’ painting. So he did come. For Shiro.
But he dedicates Shiro just a quick look, before returning to look at Zarkon with fire in his eyes.
“As you can see, he’s here and unarmed,” Zarkon says, as Sendak pushes Shiro a little bit nearer, enough to look at the altar but not enough to touch it. “Now, the paintings.”
Keith doesn’t move, but the frees the package from his deadly hug.
“Macidus, please.” Zarkon nods at the man next to him. He moves until he’s in front of Keith: he has the package in horizontal, the right hand below it and the left hand above it. Then, with a fast gesture, he turns the package in his hands, so now the right hand is above the package, but he doesn’t make any opposition when Macidus takes it, carefully keeping it in the same position.
There is a frown on Macidus’ face as he returns back to the altar. Sure, he’s thinking about Keith’s gesture and what he means. Yet, he places the package at the corner of the altar and opens it. Still with the frown on the face, he takes the first painting and frees it from the carton. He shot a glare at Keith.
With interest, Shiro peeps. It’s the Blue Lion, which depict a wet lioness coming out from a lake, while in the far a cloud is letting the rain falling. The lioness has half body inside the water and it’s wagging its head to dry itself, spreading water drips around. Again, it doesn’t look like a memorable painting, and it doesn’t acquire any particular meaning next to another painting on the collection.
When the Blue Lion starts hisses, Macidus is examining in under the lamp and with a magnifying lens. The hiss becomes too strong to be ignored, and Macidus lifts the painting to check, but it’s too late. White smoke erupts immediately from it. Macidus lets it fall scared, but only accelerates the process. The white smoke fills the room within second. Around him, Shiro hears Sendak swearing and trying to move next to Zarkon.
On the contrary, Shiro takes two steps behind, trying to get away from them. Then, he sees a light and two arms grab him.
Oh, so that’s the reasons for the glasses, Shiro thinks as Keith drags him forwards, cutting the white fog as nothing. They reaches another hallway than the one Shiro came from, and Keith closes the door behind them.
“Turn,” Keith orders, and Shiro obeys. He feels Keith is working on opening the handcuffs. “We don’t have much time, the fog is just a carnival trick.”
“A very effective one,” Shiro comments, rubbing his wrists.
Keith sends him a scrutinize look, and the shadow of a relieved smile appears on his face. Then, he turns and starts walking fast in the hallway.
“You don’t happen to have a cell phone, do you?” Shiro asks.
“No, they inspected me at the entrance. The paintings were the only place to hide something, but not a cellphone.”
“I guess it’s a forgery, then,” Shiro comments. “A lot of things in your life are.”
Keith stops for a second. “I faked many things in the past,” he admits, “but not what it was between the two of us.”
“Forgive me if I can’t believe this entirely.” No matter how much he would like to.
“Then believe this,” Keith says, and its voice is quiet, as he expected distrust from Shiro. “I’ll get us out of this thanks to you.”
Shiro blinks, but follows Keith along the dark and narrow hallway.
“You’re the one telling me most palace of Venice are built over old churches,” Keith continues, “so I made some researches, and finding out that the nobles used the remaining to build also escape route, just in case. We’re in one of them.”
“And here I thought you were bored of my lessons.”
“I was never bored with you. Never.”
The end of the hallway brought them to a closed door, which Keith opens in no time. Voice starts to arrived from the outside. Over the door, there are a small trap door, and then Shiro and Keith find themselves in the open, near the moor. In the far, on the opposite side of the sea, Shiro recognizes the silhouette of the Venice’s palaces, and a little bit on the right, he can spots in the dark the San Marco’s colums.
“We’re in Giudecca’s island,” he murmurs, a little bit surprised that Zarkon didn’t bring them farer. But again, he considers Venice his empire. “There is a casino not very far, they should have guards, we can…”
“No,” Keith shakes his head. “We don’t know how far Zarkon’s influence goes. After all, he was able to find out about you and me, wasn’t he?”
There is a hidden question in that sentence, that Shiro doesn’t miss. “You’re right. I spoke about you only with my trustiest colleagues, yet he found out. We can’t trust anyone at the moment.”
“We should hide, for now,” Keith continues. “At least until we find a way to contact someone.”
“Okay.”
Shiro lets Keith jumps over the wall of a nearby house, one of the few in Venice that has a internal court. Keith opens the gate for Shiro and he slips inside fast, just before he hears someone screaming outside. They crouch towards one of the hedge, tall and thick enough to hide them at the sigh in the night. Shiro keeps his breath as he see the dark silhouette of an armed man peeping inside the court, but then leaving, shouting something around.
For some time, that looks like an eternity, the only sound around is Keith’s breath against him, and the ringing sound of his own heart beating on his ears. He can’t say if it’s because the fear or because Keith’s vicinity. There’s a lot of things he wants to know and ask, a no moment to do it.
Then, the sound of shooting reaches them. Keith startles immediately, then crawls out of the hedge, and Shiro follows him. From the gate, they can’t see anything, but Shiro knows well enough the sound of a shooting, and even the sound of the police when they’re part of it. Without waiting for Keith’s opinion, he opens the gate and walks carefully towards the area once the sounds tune down.
There are three different police ships at the moor, and many policemen around: a couple of them are keeping two men on the ground and, with the ships’ light, Shiro realizes they are two of Zarkon’s men. Neither him or Sendak seem to be around, which do not surprise Shiro. Then, he focuses his attention on the man who’s giving orders, and recognizes him.
“It’s Commander Holt!” he exclaims, happy. “We’re safe.”
He turns around and he’s almost surprise to see Keith is still here, next to him, with a relieved expression on his face. Shiro grabs him for the right arm, gripping hard.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “But you’re under arrest.”
***
The point is, Keith isn’t angry with Shiro. He doesn’t expect any different from him, from the way he has beginning to know him in the past months. And Keith did lie to him, or at least hid part of the truth, so Shiro is even more quiet than Keith expected him to be, which is a relief enough for him. Since the moment he decided to go saving him, he knew it was a possible outcome, and he made acceptance with him. The Red Lion is safe now, and his mission is accomplished. He can be satisfied of himself.
The thing that bother him the most is the boredom of his situation. Once they bought him back at the police station, he’s been inside the interrogation room, alone. They were kind enough to bring him something to drink (which Keith left untouched) but then they literally abandoned him there to rotten. He objectively realized they have a lot to do, but still. He’s bored. He will pay for someone, anyone, to enter the room and start questioning him.
Of course, he pushes his luck too much, because when finally the door opens, Shiro is the one that appears there, and that puts him on the edge. He looks tired, drained. But there’s a pleasant smile on Shiro’s face, and he places a tray with a couple of sandwiches and a cup of coffee on it.
“They’re Sal’s,” he murmurs. “Another person you should apologize to.”
“To be fair, I left the job without warning because you found me.”
Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me it’s my fault you lied to me and got near to me only to spy on me?”
“No. Sorry.” Keith takes one of the sandwiches and bites it to stop himself from talking. “I shouldn’t have said that, of course. I’m a little nervous. Sorry.”
“And I’m here as officer,” Shiro adds, “so I should really be impartial in it and not using our relationship against you.”
“You have every right to be angry, you know,” Keith murmurs. “For what it counts, I’m truly sorry. Nothing of this should have happened.”
“Then what you did this?” There is a tiredness in Shiro’s voice.
“It seems a good idea at first.” Keith closes his eyes, fully remembering he thought it was an incredible bad idea, but the others insisted… “Just innocent flirting to find out something interesting. You wasn’t supposed to get attached.” I wasn’t supposed to get attached remains unsaid, even if Shiro seems to catch it nevertheless.
“You came to save me.”
“I wouldn’t ever let an innocent man being killed because of me. I’m not that bad.”
“Right.” Shiro stretches a little his shoulders and opens the folder in front of him. “We’ve checked Zarkon’s lair, but of course there weren’t any traces of him in there, and the palace is owned by a foreign family without any ties with him.” He snorts, fully know it’s just a cover. “We were able to collect back the Green Lion and the Yellow Lion, while the Blue Lion got half destroyed by the explosion of the white fog. I guess they’re all forgeries?”
Keith nods.
“We’ll still have them checked,” Shiro continues. “But the Red Lion was nowhere to be see.”
There are photos of the crime scene in Shiro’s folder. Keith peeps them, and recognizes his own work in the two paintings. The Yellow Lion, with the lion that cuddles relaxed in the golden sand, under a bright sun, and the Green Lion, with the lioness that scratches its claws in the trunk of a tall tree in the middle off a green forest.
“Where is the Red Lion, Keith?”
He shrugs. “I guess Zarkon took it back? As you have noticed, he seems very interested in them.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t the only one.”
“I was there to save your life.”
“And I thank you for that. Truly.” Shiro takes a deep breath. “But I’m a cop. And both as a cop and a… friend, it’s my duty to warn you to cooperate.”
The only answer is a very skeptical look from Shiro.
“Listen well,” Shiro continues. “Until now, I wasn’t questioned much about you. But then Commander Iverson will arrive and I will have to tell him everything. Including our relationship. It doesn’t matter I didn’t know, it caused my kidnapping. And even if that didn’t happen, the fact I was involved with you is enough. My career and my work is on the line, and they surely will take me off the case. So, for both you and my sake, it’s better your start talking. If you’re truly sorry.”
“What do you want me to say?” Keith asks, his voice tired.
“I want you to testify against Zarkon, about what happened,” Shiro starts. “If you accept to do so, we can lower your sentence. If you confess. I want the names of your accomplices, and of course all the paintings you stole back.”
The door wide opens with a loud sound, and Coran enters in the room in all his weirdness. Today he wears a clothes that looks coming out directly from the Sixties. Keith has never been so happy to see him.
“Please step aside from my client, young boy.”
Shiro’s face is a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “You’re Keith’s lawyer?”
“Coran Whinbley Smithiey, at your orders.” He makes an over exaggerating bow.
“You were Lance Serrano’s lawyer too.”
“I have a lot of clients, young lad. How do you think I can afford such nice clothes otherwise?”
“Yeah, but apparently you have just one type of clients.”
Despite the annoyed remark, Shiro stands up, takes back his folder and leaves the room. Coran sits down in front of Keith and suddenly there is a serious expression on his face.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs.
“Fine. I’m still alive, that is what matters, right?”
“Yeah. Look like Number Four’s bug worked.”
“Hoping it hasn’t destroyed my stomach in the meantime.” He wasn’t very happy to eat that metal thing, but it was the only safe way for the others to track its position. And he surely hoped the police won’t check his toiler in the next few days.
“Right. I hope so too. Now, I have to admit the situation doesn’t look good. Shiro saw you and Lance, and his witness counts. Maybe we should…”
“No.”
“Keith…”
“No, listen well to me, Coran. They don’t have anything on me. The idea that the Lions’ thefts were collect to Red the thief is pure speculation from Shiro’s part. I never confirmed that. What they can know for sure it’s that I forged a couple of paintings, tried to steal one from Zarkon, and then tried to sell him forged paintings.”
“That may be correct, yet they are still crimes.”
“I know, and I’m fine with that. We considered it when we accepted the offer,” Keith nods. “I will proclame myself guilty of those crimes, but I will insist I worked alone. See what you can take from it, and I’ll take it.”
“Not much, I fear,” Coran says.
“Fine by me. Are the others safe?”
“We moved them out of the city this morning, taking advantages of the confusion around the Giudecca’s island. Number Four has already prepared a fake apartment for you in Mestre, while the paintings are still at the villa for now, so you’ll be fine.”
“Good.” Keith lowers his voice. “I left the Red Lion inside a hedge on the house with the courtyard on Giudecca’s island. So now you have all of them. I did my part, now it’s up to you.”
***
“So, let me get this straight, Shirogane” Iverson murmurs. He rubs his temple and Shiro shots him an apologetic smile, as he stretches a little in his chair in front of the desk.
“You were dating this guy, Keith Koh. But in truth he’s Red, the thief. At the same time, all the theft Red did were only to hide his true aim, that were those insignificant Alfor’s painting. And Zarkon is interested in them too. In all this, you went to Zarkon’s party, caught up Red in the middle of a theft and not telling me, just continuing your investigation despite your own involvement with the suspect, and then you got kidnapped because said involvement. And you managed to arrest Red because he came to your aid.”
“Sound about right.”
“Dammit, Shirogane!” Iverson stands up and walks up and front his desk. “This is a huge violation of rules. You should have told me immediately.”
“With all the respect, it’s clear we have a spy inside the police station,” Shiro says. “Otherwise there is no way Zarkon would know Keith and mine’s situation. I’m telling you right now because I have no choice, but I don’t trust this information to remain a secret.”
Iverson stops and looks like he’s considered it behind a mask of anger. “…that may be true,” he admits at last. “But still, I don’t like it. You should have trust at least me in that.”
“I apologize, Sir,” and he is sincere. “I probably got involved too much. But, if you prefer, we can lie and say I didn’t recognize Keith the night of the party, only after being kidnapped.”
“Uhmf.” Iverson sits down again. “I prefer no more lies from now on. But surely, explain this to Sanda won’t be easy. I need to bring her something concrete so she won’t complain too much about you.”
A knock at the door, and the Coran, much with Shiro’s annoyance, appears in the room. “I spoke with my client,” he announces. “He will declare himself guilty of all charges and he will testify against Zarkon, hoping for a lighter sentence.”
He places a paper on the desk. Iverson takes it, reads it and frowns. “This is ridiculous! Your client is admitted nothing but what we already can prove about him!”
“Well, because there are his only crimes.” Coran crosses his arm.
Forgeries, one attempted theft and illegal trades of forged paintings, Shiro reads. It doesn’t mention at all Keith being Red.
“Ridiculous,” Iverson repeats. “We want the names of all his accomplices and him admitting he’s Red the thief, including of course all his crime with that name. Then we may talk about an agreement.”
“Very well.” Coran takes back the paper. “In that case, my client won’t admit anything, and you will have to prove everything about him in the tribunal. This is the best way to remember you that you have no proof about him being Red, and all your other accusation depends on Detective Shirogane’s testimony, a man who was romantic involved with my client. If it’s not enough to make it look bad, I add the fact that Detective Shirogane’s last appearance in tribunal didn’t go so well.”
Despite his funny appearance, Coran is as cunning as any lawyers. Shiro grits his teeth and closes his fists, but he doesn’t answer.
“I’ll let you an entire day to think about it before we withdraw the offer,” Coran finishes his discourse and leaves the room.
“Go rest,” Iverson comments tired. “I’ll read your report again and I’ll call you if need. But go.”
Shiro doesn’t feel to complain. And he’s tired. He leaves the police station in a hurry and reaches his apartment. Keith’s presence is still there, yet he’s too tired to complain. He lets himself fall in the bed and closes his eyes.
The cell phone rings just when Shiro is about to sleep. An unknowing number is calling him. With a frown, he answers, fully expected Zarkon or Sendak. Instead, it’s a female voice.
“I believe I have useful information for you, Detective Shirogane.”
“Who are you, and who gave you my number?”
“Our common friend,” is the enigmatic answer. “But I don’t want to talk by phone. Come to Hotel Baglioni and introduce yourself at the reception, I’ll be waiting.”
There are a lot of things wrong in all this, and a lot of things that can go wrong. Yet, despite all the odds, and the tiredness, Shiro finds himself at the main hall of the Baglioni Hotel.
“I’m Detective Shirogane,” he says at the man at the Front Office. “There is a person waiting for me.”
The man check the computer and nodded. “Sure. Just one second.” He calls for his manager, that accompany Shiro in the lift of the hotel. They reaches the last floor, and the manager knocks at the door of one of the main suite there.
“Detective Shirogane is here,” he announces.
“Thank you,” comes the female voice from the inside. The manage bows and leaves, and then the door opens and a beautiful woman with an elegant blue suit appears. He smiles pleasantly at Shiro. “Thank you for meeting me. Please, come in.”
The room is big, with an entire dining room separated from the bedroom, with a terrace outside that has a great view on the Venice’s roofs and the San Marco’s bell tower. Despite the incredible furnitures and decoration of the suite, Shiro’s attention is caught immediately than the painting on the tripod.
The Black Lion. The last painting on the Castle of Lions’ collection, the one that should have been dispersed.
“Yes, this is the real deal,” the woman says.
Without asking permission, Shiro walks to observe here nearer. It depicts a black lion with his mane wavering around its head, and roaring in the direction of the viewers. Behind it, a medieval castle stands imponent in the ground. It’s as insignificant as the others, but now that Shiro has seen all of them, he realizes there’s something more in them.
“They can be combined,” he realizes. His finger brushes the upper right corner of the painting, where are visible the small flames that connect it to the Red Lion’s painting. In the bottom corner, there is the shadow of the small lake of the Blue Lion. Recollecting back his memory, Shiro realizes that in every painting it’s been found a reference to another one.
“This is correct,” the woman says. “My father projected them like they are a single painting, but separated them in five to keep them safer.”
“Your father?” Shiro turns to look at her.
“Nice to meet you, Detective Shirogane.” She leans her hand forward and he shakes it. “I’m Allura Altea.
“The pleasure is mine,” Shiro says sincerely. “I hope you can enlighten for me some of those painting’s history.”
She nods. “I’m afraid most of the recent events are my doing, or at least it was my action that put them in motion.”
“Explain.”
With a sigh, she sits down in one of the big armchair, she brushes her pants and crosses her legs. “The story start years ago, in Naples,” she begins. “With five children that grown together on the street. One of them was my father, another was Zarkon.”
Shiro’s interest piques up, and he sits down in the armchair in front of her.
“When they became adults, my father was the only one that had success,” she continued. “The other managed, while Zarkon… was the one that lost everything. His family used to be one of the richer of Naples but got caught in a scandal. In a couple of months, they lost everything. To help a old friend, my father assumed him as an assistant for his exhibits.”
“Zarkon never spoke about his past,” Shiro murmurs. “I know he was from Naples, but that’s the first time I heard he worked with Alfor.”
“It wasn’t of public dominion, and I doubt Zarkon wants it to be knows, especially considering what happened after that.”
“Which is?”
“Zarkon wasn’t happy to live at my father’s expense, so he started an activity of his own. A very illegal one, and for a while he used my father’s exhibitions to create an illegal drug market. Unfortunately, my father did realize that only years later, when Zarkon didn’t work for him anymore and his empire is growing too big to be stopped.”
“Was Zarkon your father’s killer?”
“I don’t have any proof, but it’s likely.” Her face turns sad. “I was already in America for studying when my father started an investigation of his own, asking the other three friends to help him. And they did, but one after another they got killed. My father was just the last.”
“So he didn’t find out anything?”
“On the contrary.” A smirks appears on Allura’s lips. “A month before my father’s murder, Coran joins me in the States, with the Black Lion, and explained me everything about my father’s legacy.”
“Wait… Coran? You mean Coran Winbley Smithiey, the lawyer?”
“Yes, him. He’s pretty dedicated, and he’s like a second father for me. He’s been my father’s assistance for long after Zarkon.”
“Okay, so. The suspense is killing me.”
“My father found a lot of proof that can be able to send Zarkon in jail forever, but he knew most of them has been illegally acquired, and that he risked their destruction to show them to the police. He was also great with the computer, you know? He hid all the proof in the dark web, then hid the key for them – a QR code – inside the Castle of Lions’ painting.”
“You mean…”
“Yes.” She nods. “If you put all the paintings together, you can find the QR code. My father then separated all the paintings so Zarkon can’t destroy it. My hopes was to collect them back one after another, but Zarkon got the Red Lion first, and then I know I had to act differently.”
“I already understand Red the thief was a distraction for the only important theft,” Shiro says. “It was a very elaborate plan.”
“It was, but it wasn’t only mine,” Allura murmurs. “I have the money, but not the skill, so I put together a team of four more people, to bring back all the lions together. All them have a reason to want Zarkon in prison. Right now, I’m sorry I didn’t have you joined us too. At that time, you were still recovering after your cover mission.”
“Some time ago,” Shiro comments distract. “So Keith was one of them.”
“I chose him because his mother was killed by Zarkon, and because he’s an excellent artist with a great knowledge of art history, even if his past never let him studying for becoming something more.”
“I know that.” Shiro’s mind returns back to the lost notebook. “What about the others?”
“I’m not going to reveal their identities.”
“But one of them is Lance Serrano, right?”
Her answers is just an enigmatic smile. “Now, Keith wants to keep everyone safe, and still completing his mission to defeat Zarkon. From my side, and the others too, we don’t want Keith to pay too much for something that was did for a greater good.”
“What agreement do you propose?” Shiro asks. “If I can help, I will. But you have to understand that I can’t have Keith avoiding prison, just lower the years.”
“We’ll settle with that,” Allura murmurs sadly. “Keith will admit the theft to the Castle of Lions’ paintings, including the Black Lion, and he will give them back to the police, so you can find the QR code and arrest Zarkon for once. In exchange, you won’t ask him about his accomplices, or forcing him to admit he’s Red. I will find the way to give back all the paintings that were stolen.”
There is a big moral dilemma inside Shiro’s mind. Yet, Allura’s decisive gaze indicate him that he won’t gain a better deal than that, and taking down Zarkon is more important than arresting a group of thieves that don’t evens steal for themselves.
His past big crush on Robin Hood is showing.
“I’ll do what I can to convince Iverson to take this deal.”
Allura smiles satisfied. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I hope we can meet again under better circumstances.”
***
“You should have seen her face!” Coran ends his tell laughing loudly. “She was there, complaining about the invasion of her privacy, and there they were, all the paintings, just hiding in the canteen. Damn, I was so happy the police allowed me to see that scene.”
Keith smiles barely. He’s happy, of course, that the Castle of Lions’ painting revealed also the information about the spies inside the government and the police, and the fact that Sanda herself passed information about Red to Zarkon. She’s the one that found out about Keith after all, so Keith doesn’t feel extremely sad by the fact they basically frame her also for the entire Red story.
But also, he’s been in prison for almost two weeks now, and even if he accepted his fate, he isn’t in the mood to laugh about it.
Then Coran returns serious. “You have to sign the agreement now,” he says, taking of a paper from his bag. “They offer five years, I convinced them to take down to four. You’ll probably be out of it in two. Sorry I can’t do more.”
“It’s fine.”
Since the day he accepted to participate in Allura’s crazy and illegal plan, he was sure he would ended up killed or worse. Having an heartbreak isn’t so bad after all. He can get over it He accepts his fate graciously, signing up the paper without even reading them. Iverson arrives to take it.
“Ah, Shirogane has a message for you,” he says. “He’s sorry he lost your notebook.”
***
The airplane is on time, and Shiro takes a cab to the small residence he’s rented for the next two weeks. The owner welcomes him with great greeting and smiles, before giving him the key of the apartment and pointing out the stair to get there.
With a sigh, Shiro closes the door behind him, as a metaphorically way to put all his worries aside. He just closed a big chapter of his life, one that had started with him, freshly promoted in the police, to accept a work undercover in Zarkon’s organization, and he ended with him leaving his life as a police detective behind, just after Zarkon’s definitive condemn.
He satisfied of what he accomplished until that moment, but now he needs to rest, before starting the rest of his life. His computer has bombarded him of advertisement about that little town with the beach and the beautiful sea, and that particular residence specifically. Despite his distrust for Google and its way to track you, he’s been lured by it, and it’s only a matter of time he decided to book it.
And now, here he is, getting his first holidays in… five years?
Then he lifts his head and immediately he’s being back in time, three year by now.
On the dining room, just above the sofa, there’s a big painting, depicting the Venice lagoon. The colour are soft, romantic, and the light is clear, with the gondola and the San Marco’s clock in the far. He recognizes the style immediately, and the small signature in the right bottom corner (KK) gives him just the confirmation he needs.
Abandoning the suitcase without even opening it, Shiro rushes back to the owner of the apartment.
“The painting. The one in the dining room… where do you buy it?”
The owner seems a little distress from Shiro’s outburst. “I bought it from a locan in the center… the barman is also a painter in the free time, he displays his things in his local…”
“Where it is?”
With the address in his hand and the cell phone with the GPS in the other, Shiro moves immediately to look for said local. It’s just on the seaside, a beautiful space with tables on the outside and the wall decorated with light blue tone and sea decoration that are also Keith’s side.
Keith is there, washing the counter inside. There’s another big boy next to him that, as soon as he spots Shiro, he elbows Keith before disappearing in the back of the local. Keith lifts his head and his eyes and mouth widens from surprise.
“Hi…” Shiro smiles at him. He’s even more gorgeous than he remembers.
“Shiro…” Keith exhales. “How… How do you find me?”
“I don’t,” he says, finally reaching the counter. “I’m here for holiday, I rent an apartment and I see your paintings there…”
“The apartment at the corner of the square with the angel’s fountain?” Keith asks.
“That one.”
“And why do you choose it?”
“Well, to be honest it was Google that advertised that to me and it looks nice so…”
Keith rolls his eyes. “Pidge.” He doesn’t elaborate. “You look good.”
“Thanks. You too. So… you’re a painter slash bartender in the free time? Or the contrary?”
“My two friends opened this place when I was in prison,” he explains. He turns his back at Shiro and start working with the coffee machine. “They came to take me after I was freed, so I’m helping them here. And they decided to use it as a way to exhibit my paintings and some people around are interested. Not many, but it’s something.” He prepares a little plate with a chocolate muffing. “Here, double Espresso as you liked. It’s on the house.”
“Thanks.”
The coffee is good, and hot, and the muffin is sweet. Shiro eats it without moving his eyes from Keith. He realizes soon enough that Keith is forcing himself not to look at him, and there is a little tension in the air. Maybe he made a mistake into coming here. But…
“I missed you, you know,” he says. “Those months were special.”
“I missed you too.”
“Then why you don’t come search for me?” Shiro asks. “You know I couldn’t because, until you were a convict man, I’ll be in a power position, giving my role in the trial. But then… You told me everything between us was real.”
“It was.” Finally, Keith lifts his head and smiles sadly. “But two years in prison are enough to survive to a heartbreak, and to realize we are too different. You love Venice, I hate it. I’m a thief, you’re a cop. I love you, you don’t…” He waves his hands as nothing he’s saying is important.
“Woaw,” Shiro exhales. “How can you being so wrong in so few sentences.”
Keith blinks. And blushes. “What do you mean?”
“Well, first of all, you’re not a thief anymore. And I’m not a cop anymore.” At Keith’s surprise expression, he adds, “I resigned. After what happened with Sanda and everything, I don’t have the force anymore to stay in the police.”
“I didn’t know.”
“And okay, I love Venice, but not enough for ruining my love story, I can do it well enough by myself, thank you very much,” Shiro continues. “And you don’t hate Venice, come on. It’s not your favorite, but you drew that painting.”
Keith smiles, and finally it was an opened one, one of the past. “But one thing I was right about… I love you.”
“Present tense.”
“Yes.” Keith nods.
“What are you wrong about is me not loving you,” Shiro replies. “I really don’t know how do you got that idea.”
“Maybe by the way I broke your trust, and you arrested me, and then you disappeared from two years. It’s just an hypothesis.” There isn’t anger in Keith’s voice only tiredness.
“I know, I was a jerk,” Shiro admits. “Not about arresting you, because… things. And you lying to me wasn’t cooler either.”
“It wasn’t,” Keith admits.
“Yet, I should have come visit you. Guess I was afraid.”
“Do you mean it?” Keith asks.
“What?”
“Loving me.”
Shiro straights his back. “Hi, I’m Takashi Shirogane, private detective, You can call me Shiro. I’m currently unemployed and I’m looking for a partner expert in art history for working together in the firld of art thefts and forgeries. And I’m in love with the most beautiful art thief I’ve ever seen.”
There are tears in Keith’s eyes, and also he’s laughing. “It this a proposition.”
“It depends. Will you accept it?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
Shiro really thought leaving Venice would have been harder. Instead, here with Keith’s lips pressed on his own, it’s the easier thing of the world. -
.
***
Once Rahyn is safe on the healing pod, the members of the Sincline Force have been arrested and the Atlas turns back to collect all the people from the three cruisers to bring everyone back on Daibazaal, Keith takes a little time for himself. Just the time for a shower and wearing back his red paladin armor, before reaching for Shiro to the bridge.
Shiro gives him a soft smile. Keith can’t believe the first time they see each other in months has to be such a mess. Shiro seems to understand his feeling, because he nods.
“I called Acxa,” he says. “Situation in Daibazaal is… quite a mess right now.”
“How much a mess?”
“Thiny got to her, as I asked him to.” As Shiro explains, Keith takes a relieved breath about Shiro’s situation. “So they reach for every half-Galra and non-Galra on Daibazaal who has a pure-blood relative. They aren’t happy their relatives got taken without an explanation, and when they realized it didn’t happen only to them… well, they wanted an explanation.”
“Understandable,” Keith comments. “I still wonder how Voran and the other believe to get away with that…”
“Maybe they don’t. They would be happy only to succeed, not to survive from it.”
Shiro has a point. From all the discussions he had with them, they really thought killing the pure blood will sort of amend their mistake. It would be only natural they’re resigned to the same fate.
“But for now, they’re resisting,” Shiro continues. “Voran is still the head of the Blades, and Farux and Nuru still the Duaces. They send back the guards and the Blades to stop the demonstrators. They didn’t hold back.”
“So there’s a riot in Daibazaal right now?”
“From what I get, yes. Zethrid looked like she was enjoying herself.”
“Which isn’t good.”
“Not at all.” Shiro lets Keith a couple of minutes to process all the information, then speaks, “as a Terran Admiral, I shouldn’t involved in all this. But it’s kinda late right now, and as a Paladin of Voltron, I can’t stay put. Do you think landing the Atlas in the middle of Daibazaal would be too much?”
Keith shots him a smart smirk. “That surely should shake them enough to stop fighting for a while,” he admits. “Where are Voran and the others?”
“I don’t know about Voran and Ruxer. The Duaces are closed on the Town Hall for now. I can give you a hand to get there.” Shiro stretches his arm. “Quite literal.”
“Okay.” Keith nods. “I’ll go with the others. I want the Duaces to stop the army and the Blades, peacefully if I can. And I want to be sure there isn’t any poisoned gas on Daibazaal. Then, we can explain.”
“I’ll make Sam and Matt doing some review on Daibazaal, to see if they find something. In the meantime, I’ll stop the fight and keep the Galra inside, safe.”
“Thanks.”
There is no need to, since Shiro is doing Paladin’s work, but there isn’t a good way to part from him, so Keith just nods after that and leaves. He catches with the corner of his eyes as Shiro takes off the glasses and get ready to connect to Atlas’ soul.
The other Paladins are waiting for him at the meeting room, and he takes only one look for them to stand up and follow him in position. Everyone on the Atlas have their own spot, to not be throw away during the transformation. They take position on their own, near the place that will become Atlas’ shoulder.
“So, what’s the plan?” Lance asks.
Keith explains the situation, and the other nod. Pidge opens up her computer from her wrist. “If there is a bomb here, it should be activated by some command. My father has his way to stop these kind of signal. In the meantime, I can try to connect to Daibazaal’s net and check if there is something and deactivate it.”
“Good.” Keith nods. “But fastest way, let’s ask the Duaces directly.”
Once the Atlas enters in the Daibazaal’s atmosphere, it transforms. The Paladins wait for it to land graciously before getting out on the shoulder. The arm is stretched towards the Town Hall. With the help of their jetpack, they bounce to the metal arm and then land to the Town Hall’s roof, before jumping off on the terrace, the same where Keith met the Duaces for the first time in.
The window is open, but the tent covers what it’s inside. “Four people, at the table. Not weapons, at least not drew out,” Lance says.
Careful, weapons in their hand, the Paladin walk inside. Keith has barely the time to register who people sitting at the table are, that Ruxer jumps at him, claws at him. Hunk shot and even if Ruxer dodges the attack, it’s enough to make him slow, so Pidge can catch him and electrocute him with her whip.
“That was stupid, Ruxer,” Voran comments, even if Ruxer now lies unconscious on the floor. As promised, he got his battle, and it didn’t end well for him.
Next to Voran, at the table, are Nuru and Raxus: all three of them look tired, disappointed.
“So, we meet again, Red Paladin,” Nuru says. He doesn’t add anything, and Keith decides he won’t respond back. Pidge has already back out her computer, and she’s checking for information.
“We know everything,” Keith says. “We arrested Fixi, and everyone else that rules your prison. Just a last thing: tell us if there any poisoned gas in here.”
“Oh, yeah, the gas,” says Voran.
He lifts his arm, fist closed, as he has something in his hand. Lance shots, hitting Voran’s wrist, and Allura is ready to take with her whip whoever it’s in Voran’s hand. But there’s nothing. Keith wonders if Voran would like to be killed.
Farux stands up. “This isn’t necessary,” he comments, looking at Voran as he grits his teeth and presses the wound on his wrist. Farux turns his attention to the Paladins, and his gaze stops on Allura.
“I know what you think,” he says. “I know it looks bad. But you, better than anyone, should know how much the Galra are responsible to the destruction of the universe. We reach a non-turning point. The only way to amend our sins is to disappear.”
“You are Galra too,” Keith points out.
“Half-Galra,” Farux points out. “And you haven’t an idea how much it painful me. I don’t care to die here, but the others half-Galra… they have a chance, if they decide to follow only their other part. They can be saved.” His eyes are all on Allura. “You, more than anyone, should know how terrible Galra are, your majesty.”
“Allura…” Lance whispers.
“No.” Allura’s voice is steady, but she trembles a little. “I hate Galra for a long time. To be fair, from day to day I still hate them. But what you did… There is no way I’ll accept something like that. Never.” She turns her head to Keith, and places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll trust Keith’s judgement in this.”
“So it’s over.” Farux looks smaller. “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. You’ll see.”
Keith takes a step forwards. “Out there there’s a battle. People that fight against each other. You’re supposed to protect them. You created this situation. I spent my last months with pure-bloods. You’re wrong.”
Farux is about to speak again, but then he releases a muffled moan as a sword trusts through his chest. Nuru his behind him.
“It’s over,” he says, as he extracts back. “It’s useless.”
Keith reacts even if he knows it’s too late. He springs forwards, jumps on the other side of the table and slashes his sword at Nuru, just a second before he tries to kill himself. Keith makes Nuru falls behind and kicks the swords away.
“Why?” he asks.
“Victory… or death,” Nuru murmurs.
Keith sighs. “I’m sorry, but that’s not how Galra live anymore.” He turns and kneels down to Farux, blood spattering on his armor, his hand to cover the wound. Farux gurgles and coughs blood. “Allura, can you do something?”
She’s at his side, as the other Paladins get neat and keep an eye on Voran and Nuru. Allura places her hand next to Keith’s on Farux’s chest, but he already lost to blood. By the time Allura closes the wound, he’s already dead.
“I’m sorry,” she says to Keith. He doesn’t answer, just barely nods as he grits his teeth a little.
“I don’t think there’s bombs around,” Pidge says, as she checks with her datapad. “I can’t find any contact to detonate it either.”
“You win,” Voran spats, “aren’t you happy?”
“No one wins here,” Keith replies. “Come on, let’s go out and stop the battle.”
***
“I’m not sure landing with the Atlas in the middle of Daibazaal was a good idea,” Acxa comments, when Shiro contacts her. “Don’t you risk a diplomatic incident?”
“He got style, at least,” comes Zethrid’s voice.
“I have a plan,” Shiro assures her. “Just make sure to gather everyone next to the Atlas. We’ll protect them from the army.”
Acxa hesitates. “…Fine. I hope it’s a good plan.”
Shiro checks the situation and once the Paladins are out from his arm, he lets the Atlas kneeling down, so he can separate the two side of the plaza. He sees as Acxa, alongside with Ezor and Zethrid calls for the others next to the Atlas’ leg. Not everyone is ready to listen to them, but slowly a small group of various aliens and half-galra are in front of them.
Sam and Matt reach for Shiro on the bridge. “It’s clear,” Sam confirms. “The Spaceport is still close, so they wouldn’t be able to transport the bomb in the meantime.”
“And we close all the communication system, so they wouldn’t be able to detonated it from distance,” Matt adds. “Pidge sent me a message, there’s nothing inside the palace neither.”
“Good. Let everyone go out.”
They already asked all the Galra on board to stay ready next to the exit doors at the Atlas’ feet. Shiro lets the doors open, in a way that the pure-blood get out from Acxa’s side, while he lets the Blade waiting on the other side. From the bridge, he observes as the families reunite together. He sees Abana with his alien husband and his child, and he looks as Thiny calls for his parents, Kosmo at his side.
Only then he lets the Atlas transporting him downstairs, where the Blades are waiting. They get out together from the other side, in front of the town hall. The army and the other Blades are there, their army in their direction.
Shiro, in his paladin armor, is in the middle of the new group, but he lets Masira, on his side, speaks. Her arms are lifted in the air in a surrender position, but her voice is clear.
“We have to stop this,” she says. “We’ve been lying all along. The Duaces…”
She’s interrupted by some voices on the first row, most of them protest because of the Atlas’ presence. Aren’t the humans already stick their nose too much in the Galra’s affair? This isn’t about the entire universe. This is about the Galra themselves.
Shiro says nothing. He has a lot to comment about the people that tried to kill Keith, but for now, he agrees with them. That is a situation only Galra themselves can resolve.
Masira takes a deep breath, and continues. “The Duaces lied to us. They’re beyond all the Sincline Force’s attack. The Red Paladin-”
She is interrupted again, from people that complains about her speaking bad about the Duaces, about the Sincline Force, about the Red Paladin. Then, slowly, the complains lower, substitutes by some surprise exclamations. They come first from behind, then the crowd separates in two different part as Keith and the other Paladins walk in the square.
Keith’s armor is dirtied in blood and Shiro looks careful at him to see any wound; Allura’s hands are dirtied too, and that is enough to calm him down for a second. Keith’s expression is serious.
Shiro orders the Atlas to stand up and opens its legs a little, so the people on the other side can see what is happened and join them.
“What the hell…?” comes Zethrid’s high voice.
Kosmo teleports himself in front of Keith, alongside with Thiny and the red cosmic cat. Keith reserves a smile and a shoulder grip to Thiny, whose expression Shiro can’t see but imagine from their chat before. Then, Keith places the cosmic cat on his head and let his words flow directly to everyone’s mind.
Shiro expects Keith to explain the situation, explain why there is blood on his armor and what happened to the Duaces. But Keith’s first words are others.
“I’m sorry.”
***
Vixer has been strict about the visits. His patient needs rest, as much as she can guarantee him, until all the analyses reveal his health condition. But she can’t tell Keith no, for a countless number of reasons.
“Please,” she comments, as she opens the door of the hospital room, even if she doesn’t hide her disappointment.
“It’ll be short,” Keith assures her, and that softener her a little bit.
“Of course.”
Rhayn is surprised of Keith’s appearance in his room too. He lifts his eyebrow a little and tries to put himself in a straighter position from his bed.
“I get Zhimirian do exception for the Paladins too,” he comments. “They negate the visit even to my brother.”
“Vixer’s doing her job,” Keith defends her, even if he feels responsible for Rhayn’s forced solitude. “This is their first time for a Mixellu’s heart surgery to a non Zhimirian patient and they have to be careful.”
“Figures.”
“But it’s working,” Keith continues, as he sits down on a chair next to Rhayn’s bed. “And that may improve the medicine of the entire universe. Altean pod are great to heal wound, but with this kind of surgery, we may be able to heal people from genetic hear disease.”
“Well, at least inhaling a deadly poison gas has some unexpected positive outcomes, after all.” Keith presses his lips together, and Rahyn continues, “I know what I put myself into when you proposed me this surgery. Not that I have many choices, but still…” He places a hand over his chest. “The sound is different. Strange. But I’ll live with it.”
“You helped saving lives back then,” Keith says. “You’re a true hero.”
Rhayn’s lips curls into a little smile. He pins with his arm to sit down on the bed, and Keith helps him settling the pillows so he can rest his back against them.
“Tell me something about the world outside,” Rhayn asks. “I don’t know much, since I woke up from the healing pod just to go under surgery. I was told you gave everyone a hard lecture.”
Keith flushes. To be honest, he doesn’t remember much of his speech. He spoke mostly about how sorry he was to deceive everything but… yes, he was disappointed too at the fact that everyone was ready to go at each other’s throat. They shouldn’t have done it, and for sure they shouldn’t have done for his sake.
In a way, it sounded like a lecture.
“It was nothing like the lectures I received,” he comments. “My jaw is still sore from Zethrid’s punch.”
Rhayn laughs low, and the coughs a little. “May I suppose it’s her way to show how upset she was.”
“Yeah, but since he tried to kill me at least twice in the past, I was a little bit worried at first,” Keith replies, with a small smile. “Lance and Hunk were so upset too. I had to kneel down and swear to God I won’t do something like that ever again. And Pidge was pissed off that she had to keep that secret too, so I got a lecture from her too. And Allura. Allura complained a lot about how much time she had to grieve someone.”
His mother and Kolivan were the only one to not giving him a lecture. It’s understandable from the point of view of soldiers, but Keith couldn’t hide the sting of pain when his mother just hugged him tightly and said nothing.
Keith realizes Rhayns doesn’t know the Paladins by their name and it’s probably only courtesy he’s listening with care, so Keith shuts up.
“What about… Fixi and the others?” Rhayn asks, with a long sigh.
“They’re under arrest, waiting for their process. Farux is dead, and so Vormor, but the other will face the trial. There is enough evidence and most of them confessed, so there aren’t many doubts left about their plan.”
Rhayn nods. He looks sad.
“On the other side, I was forced to go around the planets of the Voltron coalition to assure them I’m still alive and this was a secret mission all along. You know, they aren’t happy to know they attended my funeral for nothing,” Keith adds.
This time, Rhayn laughs. “I image you have a lot of present to turn back.”
“Yep. But at least I managed to spend time with Shiro, since the Atlas accompanied me around, so it wasn’t as unpleasant as it sounds. And I mean, they have the right to be upset.”
“Looks like you didn’t understand how much your murder can affect the universe.”
Keith releases a small sigh. He knows he has some duty as a Paladin of Voltron. He knows. But it is true, he doesn’t realize just how much people know him and remember him. In a sort of way, it’s overwhelming.
“What about the government?” Rhayn changes argument, something Keith is grateful for. “We haven’t been luckily with the last Duaces, you know.”
“Well, new election will be held, but I start to think we should think to a better development form of government,” Keith replies. “Something that guarantee more safety than only two people taking decision.” He takes a small break. “That’s why I accepted Acxa’s proposal to running for election with her.”
“For real?” The news takes Rhayn by surprise, and he makes a sudden gesture that makes him whine in pain. “I mean,” he comments, once he regains his breath, “you rejected the idea until now.”
“I know. And I’m not really happy with this either, but…” Keith bits his lips. “After all that happened, I feel I need to do something more for the Galra. Voran and the others may be a little over their head, but hearing their guilt… made me realize how much works we have to do before we can heal the universe.”
“You don’t have to take all the weight by yourself,” Rhayn comments.
“I’ve been told that. Still, I’m not one to stay still.”
“Well, if it counts, you have my vote.”
Keith smiles. “Also, I need to stop by in Daibazaal from the time being. For my brother’s birth. I mean, I owe my mother much.”
And, to be fair honest, Keith doesn’t want to miss it too. He may have been a little scared at first, but he’s going to have another family member to take care of. He still missed his father, he missed the time they didn’t manage to spend together, and he sadden him that his father and his mother didn’t get to meet again. For this reason, he wants to be sure to be there for his brother.
Vixer peers from the door, a slight frown on her face. “Do you need to stay more?”
“I’m leaving,” Keith assures her, and her face lightens, as she doesn’t have to kick him out. She closes back the door to leave them for their goodbye.
Keith turns to reserve an apologetic smile to Rhayn, who shrugs. It can’t be helping. “Well, once you’ll be able to walk by yourself, I owe you a drink at the Witch’s Den. It opens again, you know.”
“Oh, good. Have you been there?”
“Yes. I owe them an apology too.”
“And?”
“They offered me a drink.”
Rhayn shakes his head and doesn’t look surprise at all. “And Thiny?”
“He’s good. He probably wants to become a Blades now. Looks like he enjoyed the all spying thing after all.”
“Good for him, I guess, not so much for you,” Rhayn laughs.
Keith is about to open the door to get out when Rhayn speaks again. “Back then, in the pod… you said we’re friend.” He swallows. “Did you mean that?”
“Why…” Keith blinks.
Some time, his mind is still trapped back at the Garrison, when Shiro was his only friend, and he still had problem to accept he had a friend and that friend was Shiro out of everyone. Shiro, the best pilot of his generation and Garrison’s golden boy. The hero of everyone.
Keith had a hard time to realize that, for a lot of people, he becomes what Shiro was back then. But it’s a thing he learned from Shiro and he won’t give up on that. So, before leaving the room, he smiles widens.
“Of course we’re friends.” -
.
Chapter 3
***
Pidge’s list has fifteen names on it, plus the captain Keith saw on Zhimin. Keith decides to let the captain alone for now and investigate on the other members of the crew, starting from the pure-blood ones. Especially because three out of five are the communications officers on the three cruisers, so it is possible he cut off the communication to avoid the rest of the crew realizing Keith was on board too
Keith finds the first on the list in a bar of the second district of Daibazaal. This is Rhayn, and he was the communications officers on the main cruiser.
It’s afternoon time and the bar isn’t too much crowded. Keith individuates Rhayn at the counter and sit down in the free spot next to him. He orders a drink and tries to spy on Rhayn without being noticed, as he tries to find a way to begin a conversation.
A holo-screen broadcasts the news. The journalist speaks about Keith’s death and about the fact the Duaces authorized the creation of a bio-pic movie about him, collecting testimonies from the people that knew him.
“It’s important for Daibazaal to create as much content as possible about the Red Paladin before it’s too late. Now that there are still people alive that can tell us the truth about him…”
Keith snorts, remembering the bad cartoon it was created on Earth. Nothing about that was true, despite the fact that all the Paladins were still alive at that time. Keith sure hopes to return to the land of living in time to stop that.
“Any problems?”
“What?” Keith turns and blinks at the giant half-galra who looks at him threatening.
“Do you have any problems with the Red Paladin?”
“What? No. I… don’t…”
“You snorted. I saw you.”
“I… That’s not… That’s not it.”
“Then what?” The half-galra leaned too much towards him. Keith surely doesn’t want a fight on his first day of investigation.
“I was just…. Isn’t a little too early for a movie? Maybe we should let the people grieving…”
The half-galra looks at him, not entirely convinced. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Oh. Yes. I came-”
“Well, first lesson. Do not talk about the Red Paladin. You’re not worthy.”
The punch arrives in a flash, but Keith is fast enough to block it. The strength of the blow makes Keith fells from the chair and stumbles into Rhayn before standing again.
“What the fuck?” he protests, realizing the half-galra is supported by all the other customers. He and Rhayn are the only pure-blood inside the bar.
“Enough,” the bartender intervenes. “Not scenes in my local. Leave, the drink is on me.”
Keith blinks as he realizes the bartender is talking only with him. “But I…”
“Out.”
He shakes his head and leaves, with the eyes of the others on him, malicious. Once in the street, he still has a lingering feeling of threat and startles as someone approaches him. It’s Rhayn.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. Just…” Keith throws a look at the bar’s door. “It’s always like that here?”
Rhayn sighs. “Well, the Red Paladin was the hero in Daibazaal, and I understand it. I like the man too. But since his death, well, everyone started to get a little bit over the edge about it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Keith’s hand is inside his pocket, brushing softly Red’s head for the cat to activate his powers. “Or it is?”
“Yeah, it’s not… I was even on the rescue mission… but there’s nothing to save there… only debris and space pirates…”
“Space pirates?”
Rhayn blinks. “Do you say something?”
“No.”
“Oh, okay.” He looks lost for a second. “Well, just for you interest… There is a local in the six district… Name’s the witch’s den. The owner is a pure-blood galra and recently we all go there… you know, all of us.” He smiles and Keith nods. “So, if you want a place to have a drink in peace, go there.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If we don’t help each other…”
He waves his hand and let Keith alone in the street. Keith waits for him to disappears in the crowd before taking the first dark corner and call for Kosmo. He appears on his shoulder, licking his face, before teleporting him away, towards the second name of the list.
Abana is another communication officers. Keith finds her at the children park in the first district. As Kosmo disappears, Keith slips on the bench next to Abana. He looks at the children: most of them are pure-blood galra, or at least they look like that. He remembers the Duaces and their stats about the galra population.
“Who is yours?”
It takes a second for Keith to realize Abana is speaking with him. “Oh, no one. I’m just waiting for a friend of mine.”
“Oh, I see. Strange place.”
“He lives nearby,” Keith explains. “And yours?”
She points at a child with blue skin that is playing with sand. “My darling.”
“Is… is a half-blood, right?”
Abana frowns. “Is that a problem?” Her voice is cold. Red moves inside his pocket.
“If you’re one of them…”
“No. Not at all! I was just wondering…” Keith licks his lips. “I’m new here and after what happened… Outside Daibazaal there are a lot of voices…”
“Oh Holy Deity. I hate that. I hate them.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here, so you can realize by yourself they’re all voices. Only because a small group is bad, doesn’t mean we all are.” She glares. “Are you?”
“Are you?”
“I’m not one of them!”
“N-no, absolutely no…”
“Then I suggest you to be more careful next time.”
“I can’t believe it. As I don’t have enough problem with half-bloods…”
She stands up and she moves in another bench. Keith sighs and takes off his datapad, to give the impression to wait for someone, while he just scrolls the news bored, as he tries to find the next name on the list.
Once he passes enough time, Keith leaves. Kosmo reaches for him and Keith rubs his muzzle. “If I keep this way, I’ll end up in a fight within the end of the day.”
He doesn’t, but he doesn’t find any useful information either. He met the other three pure-blood galra on the list, and all of them doesn’t look members of a terroristic group. One of them was even at the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to speak about what his sport team can do to celebrate the Red Paladin.
He manages to reach for other two people of the cruisers’ crew, both half-blood galra. In their case, Keith tries to find information about their thoughts about their crewmates, but it seems they don’t have any grudge or suspect about their behavior.
The commander is out of Keith’s league for the moment, and Keith doesn’t want to risk his cover to blow up so soon. There should be some records inside the commander tower of the space port, and Keith has a plan to infiltrate inside to check, but first he decides to give a try and take more information out of Rahyn.
He was, after all, the only one he didn’t piss off in some way.
So, in the evening, he finds himself in front of the door of the Witch’s Den. The six district is on the suburb of Daibazaal city, and the bar looks like a small place, not particularly cured. Still, the inside is comfy. Instead of the usual purple color, the walls are decorated in a shade of yellow, and it gives the place an idea of light and it makes it bigger than it is. It has two rooms, one with the counter and the table for dinner and another with bigger tables for playing holo-games.
Only pure-blood galra are there. Keith finds Rahyn in the second room. He sits down at one of the tables with other people, playing Monsters&Mana. Keith gets near, unsure if he remembers him.
“Oh, hei!” Rahyn greets him. “I’m glad you come.”
“Thank to you. Nice place.”
“Yeah, it is. Would you like to join us? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“It’s Yorak. And no, thank you. I don’t want to interrupt your game. But I don’t mind the company.”
Rahyn nods with his head to take a chair, before introducing him to the rest of the company. “Yorak had a bad encounter with some of the Red Paladin’s stans today,” he explains.
The other Galra look at him sympathetic. “Sorry about that,” says one of them. “They’re being exaggerated recently.”
“Well, I can understand since what happened, but…”
“No, no,” adds another one. “Let’s be serious for a bit. Who give them the right to claim the Red Paladin by themselves? He’s supposed to be the hero of all Galra.”
“Yeah, I agree,” says another. “I was there five years ago. He spoke for all the Galra, not only half-breed.”
“But none of us knows the Red Paladin for real,” comments the first one, after taking a sip of his drink. “And he was a half-breed. Maybe he’s true he hated us.”
This caused a little outburst in the entire group.
“No, no, impossible.”
“Why would you think that?”
“He would have act differently! I told you, I saw him!”
The first one let them vent before sighing. “I’m not saying I like it… but maybe we had to accept reality. After all, out of all the Red Paladin’s colleagues, the only one that got arrested is Kolivan. The only pure-blood.”
“What?”
Until then, Keith listened in silence, hoping to find some leads about the Sincline Force. But the news about Kolivan caught him off guard and he can’t hold himself back. All the eyes of the group turn on him, surprised.
“Sorry, but what happened to Kolivan?” Keith presses.
“He got arrested.” At Keith’s glare, the Galra continues, “for the Red Paladin’s death. After all, Kolivan had free access at the spaceport and he knows enough about the Blades’ procedures and about the Red Paladin’s skill to organize an attack.”
“But he doesn’t have a motive!” Keith replies.
“Yeah,” another Galra nods. “What explanation did they give?”
“No one, for now. Only small talks,” the first one answers.
“Like?”
“Well, someone says that the motive is envy. After all, Kolivan is the one that fought against Zarkon for years, and then the Paladins arrived and took all the glory from him.”
Keith breathes hard. Whoever said that, doesn’t know Kolivan at all. Keith remembers vividly the day he woke up in the hospital and Kolivan was there for him.
“Others said it’s a family matters,” the Galra continues. “He’s together with the Red Paladin’s mother, you know. Maybe he didn’t want to share her or have a bastard son.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Keith crosses his arm and grits his teeth. The only thing that refrain him to go and reveal his identity is that Keith being alive won’t help Kolivan as much as finding the real culprits of the bombing.
“It sounds a little weak,” one of the Galra admits. “Do you know something more?”
Red purrs in Keith’s pocket. Keith’s attention moves on Rahyn, hoping to find something more, and he wasn’t even the one to ask him out.
Rahyn shrugs his shoulder. “What should I say, guys. I don’t know nothing.”
“But you were on the rescue mission, right?”
“I was,” he confirms. “But there’s nothing to find. The ship blew up entirely, black box included. We collected the debris and the scientists are examined them, but I doubt they’ll find something useful.”
“And your captain? He didn’t say anything?”
Rahyn snorts. “They don’t tell me anything. I’m just the engineer. And since I’m a pure-blood, now they’re telling me even less.”
We even destroyed a Space Pirates ship and I still don’t know why we were so aggressive. I am a nobody to them.
“Wait. Aren’t you a communications officer?” Keith asks.
“No.” Rahyn frowns. “Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know. I probably misunderstood something.”
Yeah, like they trust me with communications.
“It sucks,” comments another Galra. “For now, I haven’t had many problems, but I see how my colleagues look at me. For them, all pure-blood are members of the Sincline Force.”
“Maybe we should be.”
Everyone turns on the new arrival. Keith looks at him, at his long purple fur and his pointed face and his bigger fluffy ears. Still, his fangs and his frown makes his face scary. Keith doesn’t move his eyes from him.
“Don’t say that, Voran.” Rahyn laughs nervously.
We have enough problems.
“Why not?” Voran replies. “We used to be the masters of the entire universe, and now we can’t even go in a bar of the first district because of the half-blood. You can’t say the Sincline Force doesn’t have a point.”
***
Shwamus are small, black creatures that look like cockroaches. Keith finds out about them at the motel he elected at his temporary base on Daibazaal: it’s a motel on the seventh district of the city, the cheapest one he managed to find, and his room is only a room that contains barely a kitchenette, a folding table and a bed settee.
Keith opens it and sinks the head in the smelly pillow. He lied down with his booth still on, as Kosmo pops in existence on his chest and Red curls on the pillow in the corner between his shoulder and his head. Keith takes off the datapad and scrolls the news, looking for any information about Kolivan’s whereabouts.
There is no news about his arrest, only some information about Keith’s mother. Keith knows she left Daibazaal three days before Keith’s arrival, and Keith imagined she did so because of her work. He would expect from her to concentrate in something else to distract herself.
Daibazaal isn’t a planet densely populated, and most of the people lived in the capital and work with the military, either the Blades and the official Daibazaal guards, since most of them were part of the Empire army. A lot of people know each other and it’s hard to maintain a secret.
The news about Kolivan’s arrest could be kept a secret until the end of the investigation, and Rahyn and the others know because of word-of-mouth. Still, Keith came out the Witch’d Den with more questions than answers and with the awareness that he still can’t trust anyone.
He opens Pidge’s list about the cruisers’ crew, confirmed he remembers correct and Rahyn, alongside with the other two pure blood Galra, are listed as communication officers. Keith doesn’t understand why Rahyn should lie about it. The curriculum of the soldiers’ are private, so Keith tries to check news or social network about the three pure Galra.
He doesn’t find anything about Rahyn, but there is Abana’s name listed in the database of the Blades: apparently, she came to Daibazaal two years ago, and before she lived on a planet in the Third Sector of the Universe, working in a factory that produced drones for the Empire army. She’s listed as an Engineer in there, and not as a communication officer as in Pidge’s list.
Keith frowns. It could mean nothing. In two years, and in a different place, Abana could develop new skills and take a new role. Still, considering that lack of communications is a big part of Keith’s problem, first with the Zhimir’s call and later with Grogs’ ones, it’s something worth looking.
He rubs Kosmo’s back. “Sorry, but we haven’t done for today yet.”
For safety, he puts Red in his pocket before Kosmo teleports him in the main building of the spaceport. He can’t go in the communication room because he knows it’s surveilled and he can’t risk someone gets suspicious of his investigation. But there is a database room that can do the trick for Keith.
He enters and he jumps to move the camera on the right, to give him enough space to operate without being spotted. Considering the guard duties, he gets five minutes before someone arrives to check on the camera. He kneels down next one of the main hardware and connects his datapad.
First he enters in the flight plan database and goes back to the day of the bombing. As expected, the three cruisers are enlisted in the departure late on that day. Fast, Keith moves forwards the day to see when they returned: around a week before Keith’s. It makes sense. Nothing suspicious about it.
Then, he opens the communication database, where all the calls arrived at the control tower are stored. He started from the day of his ‘death’, and then moves until the day of the cruisers’ return. Keith frowns as he notices the difference of amount of calls between the days. Daibazaal’s spaceport received around one hundred communications by day. After Keith’s death, the communications register a new peak, reaching more than five hundred. Keith takes a brief look: the calls came from all the planets of the Voltron Coalition; he guesses they all were from ambassadors looking for more information about the bombing.
Then, three days later, around the time Keith woke up and met the space pirates, the communications stopped. In the database were registered only the small communications of ships ready to land and the spaceport, and not more interplanetarian communications. A couple of days later, the communications started increasing again, still a smaller number than usual. The communications started to return at their normal numbers only a couple of days after the cruisers’ return.
Keith presses the download button on his datapad to store all the communications of those days. Kosmo, that until that moment remained sit at his next, lifts his head. Keith freezes and heard some steps coming in the direction of the room. Fast, he places the datapad inside two hardware, enough hidden to not be discover to a brief examination, so it can still download the information Keith needs.
Then, he places a hand on Kosmo’s back. He waits until the door starts open, then Kosmo teleporters outside, in the corner outside the room, in time to see one of the guard entering. He keeps his breath as he waits.
“The camera is set in the wrong direction,” the guard communicates, as he uses his torch to look at it. “I’ll fix it.”
“How?” comes a voice from the communication device.
“I don’t know. But everything is under control here.”
“Camera doesn’t move by itself. Do you check the room?”
“Only from the front door, but…”
“Go check better! Someone could be hiding inside.”
“Calm down, Ruxer. It’s the database room. I don’t think anyone would be interested in it.”
There is a second of silence. “Just do it, to be sure.”
“Fine, fine.”
Keith inhales. He looks as the guard turns on the lights of the room and then moves more inside. Once the guard turns around a hardware, Keith pats Kosmo’s head. Kosmo moves fast: he pops right between two hardwares, hidden from the camera: he bit the datapad and rips it off the connection to the database, then teleporters again next to Keith.
“Good job.” Keith awards him with a rub in his head. He places the datapad inside the pocket and tickles Red a little, so he connects Keith to the guard’s thoughts.
The guard returns back: he looks around again and then shakes his head. “Nothing strange here, Ruxer, as I said.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
The guard shakes the head again. He’s really too anxious recently. Nobody messes with our communication devices. I don’t see why he thinks that…
When the guard finishes fixing the camera and leaves the hallway, Keith nods at Kosmo to bring him back in the motel room. He’s a little disappointed he didn’t manage to collect all the communications, but he can’t risk anyone suspect an intrusion in the room. Especially if someone of the staff already suspects it.
He lies down in the bed and out the earpiece and listens to the audio he downloaded. As he guessed, the first ones are all from the Voltron Coalition’s ambassador, asking more information about Keith’s whereabouts after receiving the Sincline Force’s message. At the beginning, Daibazaal’s official answer was a standard message about the fact they’re checking the situation. Then, another standard message that unfortunately they confirmed Keith’s death, and the invitation at his funeral for all the ambassadors of the Voltron Coalition.
Nothing Keith doesn’t know already. He moves forward to the few communications after the day of his capture and listen to the first communication. He came from the Clear Day planet, and Keith isn’t surprise to hear a very aggressive communication, given that they’re not the most patient people of the universe.
“What is that! I tried to contact you for days!”
“We humble apologize, sir. Unfortunately, a solar storm happened near Daibazaal’s area and it blocked all the communications outside a certain rage from the planet.”
“Absurd! Fix the problem immediately!”
“We’re deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but we can’t do anything. Once the solar storm will end, the situation will resolve by itself.”
“Galra!”
“But now you’re speaking with us, sir. How can we help you?”
The rest of the dialogues is about the organization of the funeral and the arrangements for the ambassadors, so Keith listens to it absently-minded.
The solar storm: it was the same excuse Captain Plantux said to Zhimir’s Queens about the lack of communications. It is true that solar storm can interfere with the communication system, but to his knowledge Galra technology is advanced enough to surpass it. Especially the technology of the entire planet.
His finger scrolls the datapad and connects to the Atlas Scientific Observatory. He uses his own password to access, since he doubts anyone will check on it because the ASO is a very specific section of the Atlas research and only scientists use it for their own researches.
The ASO registered a solar storm from Daibazaal’s sun, but the radiation shouldn’t be so strong to block the Galra devices. Looking at the list of arrivals of the spaceport, Keith guesses the rage of the communications was limited inside the system of Daibazaal, and that should be impossible.
Ruxer, whoever it is, is probably right: someone messes with the communication devices and uses the solar storms as excuse, sure that nobody would check the truthfulness of their statement. Keith’s death was already a big situation to deal with, and there was no reason to doubt the Galra government.
Keith keeps listening to the other records all night, but he doesn’t get any more useful information. He has to face more about people mourning him, so despite his fatigue, he stands up. He needs to focus on his job. He makes a quick breakfast for him, Kosmo and Red, then he moves towards the first district.
Even with the excuse of the solar storm, the three cruisers should have been able to received Grogs’ communication. They are outside Daibazaal’s system. Keith knows they refused the communication, or ignored it. It’s time to confirm Rhayn’s story, so he heads towards Captain Plantux’s flat.
He knows Plantux’s address from Pidge’s list. From the street, he observes the windows. They are opened, and in the dim light of the morning, no lights are visible. In his hand, Red meows a little. No thoughts arrive in Keith’s mind. Keith isn’t sure Red’s powers work at that distance, but he takes the risk and let Kosmo teleports him inside the flat.
Keith finds himself in the bathroom. He breathes hard, as he remains still, but no sounds come from outside. So he dares to opens the door and looks at the living room.
It’s wrecked. Objects are spread on the floor, and most of them are destroyed. Keith avoids the glass fragments and kneels down the body lied at the center of the room.
He recognizes Plantux, his empty gaze turned to the ceiling, his mouth half opens. He’s dead and at a brief look it’s clear it’s a single gunshot that passed through his chest. Keith isn’t an expert of criminal investigation, still he has the feeling that Plantux knew the culprit. The shot was too precise, and the door of the flat is still closed, with no signs of breaking.
The killing isn’t casual, Keith is sure of it. He arrives too late, only for a couple of hours. He grits his teeth, angry. He’s glad Kosmo rubs his head against Keith’s leg. He helps calm him down.
Keith looks around the room. The culprit was looking for something, or to be sure nobody would find about Plantux’s secret, that Keith is sure is connected with the Sincline Force in some way. Maybe the Sincline Force paid Plantux to do works for them and then killed him because he is a half-blood.
Next to the table, on the floor, there is Plantux’s database. It is broken in two parts. Nothing else in the living room and in the bedroom looks interesting for Keith. He collects the two pieces of the datapad and leaves the flat.
***
After three days, there isn’t still any news about Plantux’s death. Plantux didn’t have a family and, Keith found out speaking discretely with Rahyn, he was on holiday for their colleagues. He asked days off just after returning by their supposed rescued mission, and Keith doubts it has nothing to do with the bombing. Plantux knew something, or was part of it. And he was killed because of it.
But since the culprits acted so the dead body wouldn’t be discovered soon, Keith feels sure enough to go to the interplanetarian postal office and sent Plantux’s broken datapad to Pidge. He addresses it to “Katie Holt”: outside the small circle of the Garrison Officers, she is known as the Green Paladin or Pidge, so nobody would have any reason to connect ‘Yorak’ to the Paladins, or to inspect the package. Daibazaal has enough commercial relationship with Earth that a package won’t be suspicious. Just to be sure, Keith doesn’t put any message inside.
Pidge is smart enough to understand it comes from Keith.
And, as a matter of fact, Pidge calls him a week later.
“What is this garbage you sent me?”
“Is this line safe?”
“Of course. Who do you think you’re speaking with?”
“Sorry.” Keith settles a little better in his small bed and moves aside Kosmo. “It’s Plantux’s datapad.”
From the screen, Pidge’s image frowns. “Who?”
“The Captain of the cruisers in the Zhimir’s system.”
“Oh, yeah, the one of the list you asked me.”
Keith nods. “He was killed, and his house was destroyed.”
“Oh. This entire story is becoming more and more intricate, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I feel there could be useful information inside the datapad. Can you repair it?”
“Negative,” Pidge answers. “This kind of machine are incredible technologic, but it also means they’re very delicate. But I can try to retrieve the memory inside. I can’t assure you anything though.”
“Better than nothing.” Keith doesn’t hide his disappointment.
“You’re welcome,” Pidge comments. “What should I look in particular?”
“Everything you can find. Audio recorders would be great.”
“Oh. You think he kept a copy in his datapad the request of ransom from the space pirates?” Pidge gets his own idea almost immediately.
“He could have. As a guarantee, maybe?”
Pidge nods. “So your hypothesis is that Plantux is the culprit, or one of the culprits, and he hid the communication about you surviving so he can kill you for real. And then, he got killed by his accomplices.”
“Well, it makes sense, right? After all, I tried to contact them from the space pirates ship too, and they didn’t answer. At least the captain should know about me, and he interrupted the communications to hid my presence.”
“Well, yes. It makes sense,” Pidge confirms. She doesn’t know everything about Keith’s past whereabouts and his investigations, so she doesn’t have the entire scheme. Still, Keith needs to speak about his hypothesis with someone else than his brain and Kosmo. “But I have another hypothesis.”
“Which is?”
“Maybe it was one of the communications officers that did it. And Plantux found out later, and they killed him to stop him to reveal them. After all, from what I remembered from the list, the communications officers are all pure-blood Galra.”
Keith nods. “This is what I thought. But I befriended one of them, and he told me he isn’t the communications officer.”
“What does it mean? On the list-”
“Well, he could be lying, of course. But if he didn’t… someone changed the roles on the list so they can pin the guilt to pure blood if this story comes out.”
Pidge pats her glasses. “It’s… complicated. Your hypothesis means the Sincline Force were able to bring also half-blood on their side. And it means there are members inside Daibazaal guards,” she comments, at last. “Someone able to send a crew with accomplices to look for you to be sure you died, and to be able to mess with the register lists to modify the crew’s role.”
“And to be able to interrupt all the communications of the planet in the meantime,” Keith adds. At her puzzles expression, he explains the conversation he eavesdropped inside the spaceport building, and the story of the solar storm. “Maybe the pirates contacted Plantux or the other culprits on board. Maybe they contacted Daibazaal directly. But someone works inside the spaceport, and he’s able to access to some reserved sector. They blocked the communications in some way as soon as they received the confirmation that I survived the bombing. Then, they killed me again.”
“I am an idiot. I should have looked better about the solar storm. The Atlas had his communications blocked too.” She snorts. “I felt it’s easy that the pirates contacted Plantux or his crew, and then they contacted their accomplice at the spaceport. I refuse to believe all the people on the spaceport are with the Sincline Force.”
“Maybe it was just bad luck on my side, and Grogs contacted the only people that wanted me dead.”
“That would really be fucked up.”
Keith shrugs. “I have enough luck to notice the bomb before it exploded.”
He felt they have the video of him going out the spaceship just in time, and the only reasons they sent the cruisers was to kill him for good. Because if he wouldn’t have check the bomb, the Sincline Force wouldn’t have any proof it was Keith’s ship that exploded. For sure, they expected footage of him in the cockpit as the explosion busted out, and Keith ruined their plan.
“I’ll do my best to recover the data from Plantux’s datapad,” Pidge assures him.
“Thanks. I’m not sure it could help us to find his accomplices, but it’s a start.”
She nods, then she looks at him, a little bit unsure. “Have you heard about Kolivan?”
“How do you know?” Keith replies. “It’s not on the news, and all I found out is small talks.”
“Well, we’re doing an investigation of our own,” Pidge replies. “What?” she adds, at Keith’s surprise expression. “Do you think we would let it go? We all want to find the culprits of your death. We just have to be careful because we have a public role as Paladins.”
“And do you find something?”
“Not yet. And of course, I don’t tell them anything about us.” She threw him a meaningful look, as to confirm she doesn’t like the situation much. “Allura and Hunk are using their role to investigate around the colonies, to see if they can catch suspicious activities, at the moment. Lance and I tries to support them. That’s how we found about Kolivan.”
“So it was arrested for real.” Keith shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
“They didn’t consider it an arrest,” Pidge explained. “Do you know Kolivan is working with Iverson? Well, Iverson talked to Lance about the fact that someone from Daibazaal came for Kolivan and then apparently he took a break from his work because his presence is required elsewhere.”
“Pretty excuse.”
“Yep. Lance went to check about it and the entire thing is pretty fishy. He made contact with the spaceship that is supposed to bring Kolivan back on Daibazaal a couple of quintants ago and they refused to let him speaking with Kolivan. Despite, you know, Lance being a Paladin of Voltron.”
“What did they say to him?”
“That at the moment Kolivan is under investigation and that he can’t speak with anyone outside the Galra Guards. Lance tries to ask for more information, but they cut him because apparently it is reserved.”
“Do they really believe Kolivan can be an accomplice of the Sincline Force, or it is the Sincline Force that is trying to take him out?”
Pidge shrugs. “No idea. Anyway, to my calculation he will arrives on Daibazaal in a couple of quintants. Maybe you can check it.”
“I will.” Now it’s Keith’s turn to press his lips and wait until he dares to ask, “how’s Shiro?”
“I don’t know. He’s on holydays I don’t know where and I haven’t heard him for a while.”
“On holyday? Shiro? What happen?”
“His boyfriend died.” Another, very meaningful look from Pidge.
Keith ignores it. “Tell me once you’ve done with the datapad. I have to go to work.”
“You’re working?”
“Yeah, as guardian of a warehouse. It helps me keeping contact with pure bloods and try to find information about the Sincline Force.”
“I see. Smart idea.”
She doesn’t add anything, nor she tries to increase his guilt anymore, and Keith is grateful for it. At the end of the communication, he places back his datapad inside the pocket, he takes Red in the other, much with Red’s annoyance since he was sleeping peacefully on the pillow.
Kosmo approaches to follow him, but Keith shakes his head and rubs a little his head. For now, Keith doesn’t have orders for Kosmo, and he can’t risk anyone to see it since it’s too much a giveaway of his secret identity. He leaves the motel still hearing Kosmo’s disappointed whines.
The warehouse is in the same district of the motel and it’s still a bit early, so Keith walks down there. Until now, he doesn’t have any luck to pick up any interesting conversation, neither at work and at the Witch’s Den, that he continues attending. Since Keith’s death, the complain about pure-bloods’ treatments have slowed down, a most of the people Keith have met don’t seem particularly eager to speak about the Sincline Force, and even Voran hasn’t said anything else about them.
Still, Keith can’t believe the Sincline Force just disappears, neither that they aren’t try to bring more people on their side. They can’t expect to restore the Galra Empire against the entire Voltron Coalition if they don’t have at least all the Galra on their side. So he keeps his eyes and ears opened, and hoping in the same time Pidge will give him a lead to continue his investigation.
The night passes quiet, with no particular happening. Keith exchanges brief conversations with his colleagues that brings him no useful information, and then leaves just after his shift ends. Unlike the evening before, he decides to take the public transportation to get as fast as possible at the motel.
He sits down on the seat alone, head places on the glass window, as he admires the city around. The eight district isn’t the best the capital of Daibazaal has to offer, being mostly a suburb, but Keith is happy to see how much they manage to rebuilt after the war. He isn’t going to let the Sincline Force destroy it.
The ring if his datapad distracts him from his thoughts. He takes it to see if it’s Pidge – she’s used to work all night – and he notices with a little frown that all the other passengers of the transport have received a message too.
It comes from an unknown source. When Keith clicks on it, he already knows the sender, and he fears what it could be when the message turns to be another video. It shows Kolivan, sitting down in what looks a lot like a cell; the architecture is from one of the new Galra spaceship. Keith images it’s the one that is transporting Kolivan to Daibazaal. The door of the cell was throwing down and a pure-blood Galra with a mask enters in the field of vision. Then, the camera moves outside the spaceship, showing its explosion.
The scene changes, returning in the same room of Keith’s death’s video, with the same two pure-blood there. Keith squints his eyes to see if he can recognize them, but the uniform they wear and the mask make them looking pretty generic.
“Kolivan is a hero and a leader. He created an entire secret society, protect his people, and for years he fought to bring a better world for the Galra. But he’s a pure blood, and what did he get for it? Nothing. Even worse, he was arrested without any proof, without any regards to him as a person.”
“We, the Sincline Force, can take care of him a lot better. We can take care of the Galra. We can take care of any of you.”
The video ends. Keith realizes he isn’t breathing. He was in that sort of bubble that prevented him to hear around. But when he lifts his head, he can see the look of horror and worried in the face of the other passengers. Unlucky for Keith, they are all half-blood, and they notice him, and their looks changes, as if Keith is the sender of the video.
Keith turns his head and puts better his hood on his head. He gets down at the next stop, in a way that doesn’t look as he is running. He strolls to his motel and regain his breath only when he closes the door of his room. Kosmo jumps on it and rubbing his head relaxes Keith.
They have Kolivan. Damn.
He sits down on the bed and Red emerges from his pocket, stretches and walks towards her bowl. Kosmo curls against Keith’s leg as he takes his datapad and play the video again. And again. And again.
He doesn’t gather too much information. The men in the Sincline Force are pretty good into hiding any trace of their identity, and even when they talk the voice sounds fake. They only thing that reassures Keith is that the Sincline Force doesn’t intend to kill Kolivan, or so it seems from their talking.
Keith knows how much the pure blood Galra are displeased by Kolivan’s treatment, and Keith can’t blame them. Kolivan is for the pure blood what Keith is for the half Galra, in a way. What the Sincline Force did can look a lot like saving Kolivan from the grasps of people that didn’t respect him.
The video doesn’t give the idea that Kolivan is a part of the Sincline Force, neither that he is in some way responsible for Keith’s death. It’s a peculiar thing, because it reinforces the idea that the Sincline Force are in some way on the right side, that they want the best for the Galra. And having Kolivan on their side will definitely be a good way to present themselves.
Kolivan would refuse to join them, though. For Keith, it means he can fear for Kolivan’s live. The Sincline Force already demonstrated they don’t fear murder, and the murder of innocents even less. He needs to find Kolivan before the Sincline Force lose their patient.
Keith lies down with a grunt. Pity he doesn’t have any idea where to find Kolivan or any members of the Sincline Force. Days of investigations and he doesn’t find any lead but dead end. His eyes burn. He sighs and closes them: he needs a couple of hours of sleep so his mind can think clearer. Kolivan taught him to take care of himself so he can take care of others.
His sleep is short and full of nightmares: when he wakes up, he doesn’t feel rested at all. His stomach grumbles, so he takes a couple of biscuits from the cupboard and eats them while checking his datapad. Pidge hasn’t contact him yet.
Kolivan’s situation occupied all the news around. The articles confirm the spaceship that exploded is owned by the Daibazaal Army, and it was transporting Kolivan back to Daibazaal. The incident happened near enough a planet of the Voltron Coalition, who send some of their spaceship to investigate. It looked that no one of the crew managed to escape, unless the Sincline Force kidnapped them too alongside with Kolivan. There isn’t any evidence of it at the moment.
A couple of articles seems to intend that Kolivan was part of the plan and the Sincline Force was saving him by his order, but most of them only speaking about a kidnapping and do not make assumptions about Kolivan’s responsibility for Keith’s death. None of them thought seems interesting in his situation, neither into clear his name.
There is also a video from the Duaces. Farux speaks mostly to the families of the crewmembers that were killed in the explosion, assuring them that the culprits will be soon arrested. The investigation proceeds steadily, Farux asserts, and soon they’ll be able to revenge both Keith’s and the crewmembers’ death.
“Unfortunately,” Nuru says, “in order to avoid any more incidents, we’ll need to reinforce the security measures. I hope you all understand.”
They don’t speak about Kolivan at all, which is downright suspicious. Keith hopes it doesn’t give the Galra the idea the Duaces think Kolivan is guilty.
Scrolling through the articles, Keith finds a last one that has the name of the victims. In total, the crew is composed of four people. Keith blinks: the captain of the crew is Plantux. It isn’t possible, because Plantux was dead and his body is in his own flat.
Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe Plantux was supposed to be the Captain and it was substituted last minutes because he didn’t answer at the call. Inside himself, Keith thinks it’s not. It can’t be a coincidence Plantux being involved in two Sincline Force’s attack.
He looks at the other names and the connection become painfully clear. All the three other victims were also part of the three cruisers that attacked the pirate ship. Fixi, the engineering of the main cruiser (or the communications officer? Rahyn’s testimony still stands), Xunul, the pilot, and Vormor, the engineering of the second cruiser.
Keith wonders if the Sincline Force is slowly kill all their accomplice if they’re not pure blood Galra. Again, his feelings give him the impression that the truth is a lot more intricate that it seems. He can’t stay put anymore, he needs to move because Kolivan may not have much time.
After putting Red in his pocket, he let Kosmo teleports him inside Plantux’s flat. It appears at the center of the dining room and realizes immediately that things are completely different from the first time he was there. The house is tidy and ordinated again, and no body on the floor. The Sincline Force is covered Plantux’s death.
Keith grits his teeth. He should’ve known. He should’ve surveilled the flat so he would have seen the members of the Sincline Force as they took Plantux’s body outside the building. He was stupid.
He need answers, and he needs it now, to make up for his mistake. In that moment, his datapad rings. It’s a message by Pidge.
“Don’t do anything. Wait for more from me.”
Great. Even Pidge can’t give answers now, only more questions. With a deep sigh, Keith nods at himself and decides to follow Pidge’s advice. If she tells him to wait, she probably has something big from him. He will trust her.
But, he thinks as he shots a look at the front door of the flat, a little investigation around the quartier won’t hurt. A body was transported outside it, someone knew something for sure. Even if they didn’t realize what was happened, they had to see something.
So, instead of letting Kosmo teleport him away, he just goes out from the front door.
***
The door of the cockpit opens and Lance arrives, wearing his paladin armor. Both Shiro and Pidge shot a look at him.
“About time,” Pidge comments, returning at her screen.
“Sorry? I haven’t leave the guard of the ship for days, I think I deserve a five minutes of shower more,” he complains.
“I can understand the smell, then, if you probably piss yourself.”
“We greatly appreciate your sacrifice,” Shiro says and, by Lance’s look, he can tell Lance doesn’t understand if he’s sarcastic or not. He is, but Lance decides to ignore it apparently and gets near. He leans his arm on Pidge’s seat.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Shiro turns his head and look through the window at the old Galra ship that floats in the dark space. It’s probably one of the old ship that were abandoned after the defeat of Zarkon and Lotor, when the fight became Galra against Galra. The Galaxy Garrison, along with the Voltron Coalition, has a program to free the space from the trash, but they haven’t reach this far part pf the universe yet.
The ship is badly paced in the spot it was bombarded in the past and it looks it can’t move anymore. It looks like the perfect place to hide for a secret terroristic group, since at the moment no one else bother to look for ship wrecked.
“I only spot four people aboard,” Pidge says. “If hopefully one of them is Kolivan, we only have three enemies. I’m try to look at the ship defense to disable them, but for a brief look, I think most of them are already turned off.”
“Three members of the Sincline Force,” Shiro comments, and he turns to Lance. “Did it seems right to you?”
“Dunno.” Lance shrugs. “The only thing I can say for certain, it’s that they’re member of the ship crew. I see with my two eyes the pod leaving the ship before the explosion, it wasn’t an outside attack as they believe in Daibazaal. But how many people were on board, I can’t say.” He sighs deeply. “I don’t even know if Kolivan was on board…”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Shiro states.
“I can’t distinguish who is who,” Pidge comments, “but my knowledge of the Galra architecture, I can tell this area may be the prisoners’ quartier.” He points with her finger at the red spot on the screen. “And the person here, unlike the others, hasn’t move from the place yet.”
“That’s where we start.” Shiro affirms. “We need to free Kolivan before he can be used as a leverage. Then, we’ll move to catch the others. This is the first chance we have to get a grip over the Sincline Force’s members.”
Pidge nods. “We can’t bring the ship nearer than this, or my clouding device wouldn’t be useless because they may spot us with the radar. You have to fly inside.”
“Piece of cake.” Lance smirks. “Let’s rock, Shiro.”
Shiro exchanges an amused look to Pidge, but the truth is that Lance’s presence is relaxing. Shiro knows he can trust Lance’s ability on the battlefield and having someone to light up the mood it’s appreciated. Shiro hasn’t wear the Paladin armor since at least five years and he hasn’t been in a battlefield for around the same time, since ATLAS is more on exploration missions, so there is a little bit of tension. And excitement.
They leave the ship and uses the jetpack to reach the Galra ship. They walk on the metallic surface to reach the nearest spot to what they guess is the prison. Shiro uses his altean arm to break through the metal and create a hole big enough for them to sneak inside.
Lance makes his bayard transform in his rifle and walks head Shiro, who looks around in order to avoid cameras. The ship is silent, and unlike the others they attack in the past, no sentinels are patrolling the hallway. The lights are the only indicator that someone is using the ship.
Pidge isn’t mistaken: Shiro recognizes the hallway of the cell once they reach it. All the cells are opened, but one. While Lance remains at the begin of the hallway to check, Shiro get nears the closed door.
“Is someone inside?” Shiro asks. He can’t be sure it’s Kolivan, and he sighs of relieve when he hears the familiar voice answering.
“Shiro?”
There is surprise, which makes Shiro smirk. “Stay put.” He throws down the door with a well-aimed punch of hos altean arm. Kolivan is there, standing against the right wall. “Are you okay?” Shiro asks.
Kolivan nods. He doesn’t add anything, and Shiro doesn’t ask. They still have work to do. He takes off an oxygen mask for Kolivan while he turns on his transmitter. “Pidge. We have Kolivan. Where’s the others?”
“Two still in the main deck. The third is two floor below you.”
Shiro nods. He coughs a little to lure Lance’s attention, who walks backwards in their direction. “Good to see you, Kolivan,” he greets him.
“We reach you thanks to Lance,” Shiro explains. “He followed you since you left the planet with the Daibazaal Army.”
“I see.”
They move as Pidge’s indications to the floors below. Lance is still up front, the rifle in his hand, but the silence lets them a little less wary than the usual, when a robot sentinel turns from the corner. Lance is fast enough to shoot it down, but the sounds of the sentinel falling down lured other sentinels. They rush to hide behind a wall.
“I thought the production of them was forbidden,” Lance yells, as he keeps shooting.
“It is,” Kolivan confirms. “Right now on Daibazaal we permit only robot arms to help with the most dangerous jobs. It was an agreement with the Voltron Coalition to reassure we won’t have a robot army ready to attack again.”
Shiro knows it’s also a way to give new jobs to the Gara that were once only soldiers, and something Keith himself fought to obtain. “But not all the projects for the sentinels were destroyed.”
“It is possible there are still data around the remained shipwreck. And also, there are galra engineering alive that knows how to start the production again.”
Lance shots down the last sentinel. “Well, at least now we can guess the Sincline Force aren’t as many as they want us to believe, if they need to product their own army.”
“Don’t be happy about that. It was the same at Zarkon’s time.”
“That’s reassuring,” Shiro comments and he starts walking forward carefully.
It’s impossible the rumors wouldn’t catch the attention of the Sincline Force member; Shiro hopes at least they don’t have time to warn any of their accomplice, so they still can manage to capture them. A figure jumps outside the door and shots a Shiro, who is fast enough to put on the shield to defend himself. Lance is at his side, ready to aim at the enemy, but Kolivan grabs both of them by the collar and drags them backwards.
“Grenade.”
A small, black ball is on the floor, and they manage to rush inside another empty room while the hallway become a river of flames. When the force of the grenade wears down, the hallway is completely destroyed, making impossible for them to follow the enemy.
“Pidge!” Shiro calls. “Where they go?”
“Looks like they’re heading to the hangar. The other two are on the moving, they must have been warned of your presence,” Pidge replies, her voice frantic. “And we have another problem: looks like they activate the auto destruction system.”
Shiro grits his teeth. “Lance, Kolivan, go out of it and reach back our ship.”
“And where are you going?” Lance asks.
“I’ll reach the hangar and try to capture them.”
“There’s no time!” Pidge exclaims.
“Shiro.” Kolivan grabs his arm. “I understand how you’re feeling. But he wouldn’t want this for you.”
He doesn’t nominate Keith, but he wasn’t necessary. It’s a low blow, and Shiro is about to reply back when he notices Lance’s worried look. He nods.
“Fine,” he spats back.
They don’t return at the initial hole, but they create another aperture from the spot they are, using the time it remains until the bomb explodes. They fly back to the ship, where Pidge is waiting for them. Shiro doesn’t say anything, but he takes his seat as pilot of the ship, his hands steady on the commands.
“Fifteen seconds since the explosion,” Pidge warns him. “We should move.”
“They’re still inside?” Shiro asks.
“There,” Lance points out, with his sharpshooter vision.
The pod flings out the Galra spaceship and takes its route to the space. Shiro turns on the engine and follows them. The pod shots at them, but Shiro is able enough to dodge it. He can’t do anything against the explosion though: the shockwave let him lose the control of the commands for a second. We he regains the balance, the other pod is too far in the dark space.
“Can you pin them?” Shiro asks Pidge.
“No, the controls of this ship aren’t powerful enough for such a small pod.”
“We got Kolivan back,” Lance says. “It’s the important thing.”
Inside him, Shiro knows Lance is right, but he still can’t forgive himself for having let the members of the Sincline Force escaping. If they aren’t Keith’s killers, at least they know something. Shiro hasn’t being so near to have them in their grasps, since his investigation with Acxa and the others didn’t bring them anywhere. He remains silent for the entire journey back to Altea and he walk alone the garden palace until Allura calls for him for lunch.
Her presence and her smile reassures him; it’s probably because Allura, more than anyone, knows what it means losing someone irreplaceable. He smiles back at her and follow her to the dining all. Of the Paladin, only Hunk is missed, because he still was on a diplomatic mission outside the quadrant. Romelle and Coran are there, and Kolivan sits down next to Krolia. Shiro takes place next to her, while Allura sits at the head of the table.
She waits until the first dishes is served. “Kolivan, can you tell us what happened?”
He nods. “Not much, unfortunately. When they took me they have masks, and they didn’t even talk to me. I only understood what they wanted when you showed me the video. But,” he adds, turning his head to Lance, “since Lance said no one attacked the ship, I guess we can say the members of the Sincline Force were the members of the crew.”
“They are half-blood galra,” Shiro comments.
“I’m aware of it. Still… the ship is too small for other people to hide inside, they would have been found. Three people on the crew, three people of the Sincline Force. Sounds about right.”
“It makes sense,” Allura says. She sounds tired.
“But Daibazaal’s official news said four people lose their life in the terroristic attack,” Lance points out. “So at least one of them is an actual victim.”
“I read the names on the news. I never saw Captain Plantux on board. I would have recognized him,” Kolivan stated.
Pidge bits her lips. “By my investigations… I have the feeling Plantux was long dead before this entire accident.”
“How can you say that?” Lance asks.
“Just a hunch.” Pidge doesn’t look at him, still tapping her datapad. “I tried to recollect some movements of the four victims before finding out they aren’t victim at all, but I haven’t find more about Plantux. Looks like someone put him on the ship to cover his dead.”
Krolia places her glass down. “So it’s either Plantux was a part of the Sincline Force and he got in a disagreement with his accomplices, or he discovered something he shouldn’t have.”
“It’s a start,” Shiro says. Despite his disappointment, they still have something to investigate, a lead that can bring them to all the members of the Sincline Force. “Going back to check all the crewmembers’ friend and family to see if they know something, or if they’re part of the Sincline Force themselves.”
“Shiro, the Duaces doesn’t want you to interfere,” Kolivan remembers him. “We should inform them.”
“No.” Allura’s voice was steady, even if he looks a Kolivan with hope. “The Duaces’ heart may be in the right place, but they’re too much focused on protecting Daibazaal’s honor. I’m not even sure they will believe us.”
“And they aren’t, like, the one that decided to arrest you?” Romelle adds. “They don’t look very friendly to me.”
Krolia nods. “And they also excluded you from the Blade of Marmora’s council.”
“It’s better if you and Krolia remain here for now,” Allura continues. “The Sincline Force expected us to go immediately to Daibazaal and the Duaces. Not doing that we’ll put them in the edge. We already destroy one of their plan, and they don’t know our next move. It means they can make an imprudent move.”
“I’m going on Daibazaal,” Shiro offers. “Acxa can guest me, I’m in contact with her.” He omits the fact he spent the last weeks on Daibazaal too, investigating with her and the others, and he can’t tell if the others suspect it or not. “So I can look for Plantux’s situation.”
“Oh, I can do it,” Pidge intervenes, with a suspicious rush. “Focus on the other three. They may be speaking with you since you all lost something because the Sincline Force. Otherwise, they may speak with Acxa.”
“Sounds good,” Allura says. “Hunk and I will continue to investigate to the other planet. The Sincline Force must have some contact around to find armament and everything.”
“Yeah, and I’ll look around looking for their base. They should have another one at least, like the shipwreck we found,” Lance adds.
Kolivan passes his look to all of them, until he stops to Shiro. “I’m sorry I have to let you doing all the work again.”
“We’re still Paladins of Voltron,” Shiro replies. “That’s what we do.”
***
“…is…”
“…call for… speaking…”
“…ht?”
“I… for… adin…”
“Hold…”
Two voices speaking, one of them was Grogs. Then, the other voice changes, and Keith recognizes Plantux.
“…is it?”
“…is… os… Fine…”
“….me… osition…”
The record finishes. Keith plays the other one. Plantux is one of the voice, he doesn’t recognize the other.
“I can’t do …more.”
“….in it.”
“….just… of it.”
“…speak.”
“… Tom…”
With a sigh, Keith stops the records and puts away the datapad. As Pidge anticipated, Plantux’s datapad was too broken and the records she managed to recover aren’t definitive. Still, Keith gets the confirmation that Grogs called the cruisers Plantux commanded and so they knew about Keith’s situation. Alongside with what Shiro and the others found out, it’s clear that the three members of the cruisers that faked their death in the last bombing are the culprits. With Plantux’s neighbors, he also found out that Fixi came to visit him the day before Keith found his body, which just confirms the theory.
Since Pidge confirmed him that they’re investigate on them, Keith’s role remains to check on the pure blood Galra and see if he finds out any other leads to the Sincline Force. In Keith’s opinion, there is no doubt they would make a move on them sooner or later. With Kolivan’s kidnapping, they tried to pander the pure blood, and the Duaces’ rules only exacerbated the situation.
Keith sighs. He’s about to start the records again in the hope to reconstruct the dialogues, when the datapad rings. It’s his boss from the warehouse.
“Hey, Yorak.”
“Hey, boss.”
“There isn’t a nice way to say that, so… I’m sorry, but I have to fire you.” Before Keith has any chance to ask, he continues, “it’s nothing personal. It’s nothing you did. But, you know, the new rules of the Duaces… I can’t have only pure blood Galra employees.”
“I thought the Duaces’ rules only apply to recreational meeting, not workplace,” Keith exhales.
“I thought that so, but I received an inspection this morning and no. They don’t want places with pure blood alone. I can’t fire people that work with me for years, so… I’m sorry.”
“No, no… I… understand.”
“It’s unfortunate. I have to make interviews to hire half-blood Galra and I’m not even sure they would work for a pure blood but… it’s as it is. I have a life here. If this helps to catch those criminals, I want it too. I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“Sure. Good luck.”
Keith sighs deeply. The situation is even worse that he thought. He needs to find the Sincline Force as soon as possible. Kosmo and Red are sleeping on the bed, curled on themselves, so Keith lets them rest. He leaves the motel and heads to the Witch’s den. He hasn’t spoken with Rhayn since the (fake) funeral of his colleagues, but maybe some of their friends are there.
Instead, the pub is closed. Keith frowns, because he remembers its timetable. He hears a rumor and turns to the secondary door. The bartender is there, moving a box from the inside of the pub to a car. He spots Keith and smiles lightly, recognizing him as a guest.
“Sorry, we’re closed.” And then he adds, “forever.”
“What? Why?”
“Because of the new rules about the pure blood meetings.”
“But you’re the owner of a pub, you can’t control your customers…”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. We all know that only pure blood come to me, because I’m a pure blood too. I don’t want to get arrested. And even if I decide to try and reject the pure blood customers, we all know no half-blood will substitute them. Better leave before the crash.”
“I’m sorry.”
He smiles. “Thanks. You’re one of the few that doesn’t answer to me with ‘oh, no, I don’t have another place to go now’. It counts.”
“Well, that’s because it’s not true. There are other pubs around…”
“With half-blood,” the bartender points out.
“Yeah, well, your pub was a happy place for us in those days…”
The bartender nods. He gets near and murmurs in Keith’s near. “Do not tell anyone, but… I have a cellar-slash-warehouse near by… and it’s a pity to let all the remained bottles alone, so, if you want to come…”
It’s not like he wants to, he needs to.
So, the same evening, he goes. The cellar is big as much as one of the room of the Witch’s Den, but there are less people than usual, so the area is comfy. With Keith’s satisfaction, Rhayn is there too. He moves to greet him.
Rahyn makes a gesture to the empty chair next to him. “How are you?”
“I just lost my job,” Keith shrugs. “New rules.”
“I’m sorry. Unfortunately, I heard it happens a lot those days.”
“To you too?”
“No, the Army Force has enough mixes employees for me to be saved. But I was benched, especially after what happened to… you know.”
Keith nods. At that point, Keith is convinced his colleagues tried to frame him while he mourns for them. But Rhayn may still have some information, even without knowing it. And being unaware may still make him a prey for the Sincline Force.
Voran enters in the cellar. He moves next to a group of other people and they start talking intensely. Keith narrows his eyes and tries to catch the words, with no avail. Voran is one of the most interested in the Sincline Force and Keith regrets not having yet understand if he’s just a sympathizer or a member. He’s very careful in his words.
“Yorak?” Rhayn calls.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. You were saying?”
“I may know a job for you, if you’re interested.”
It’s a carrier job. As Keith finds out, it’s a job reserved for the sentinel in the past, so most Galra still find it demeaning, and the request for employees is very high. Most pure blood Galra end up there.
For Keith, it’s great, since it gives him the possibility to go around and speak with people and understand better the situation around. And, as a matter of fact, it’s the reason he finds out another alarming situation.
He doesn’t notice at first. He goes in one of the small town around the capital of Daibazaal to deliver a package. The towns around aren’t many, because the Galra population is still small, and most of them prefer living in the big city. On the countryside live only the people that also work on the countryside.
Keith finds the address indicated on the package, but nobody answers when he rings. He has a couple of packages more to deliver, so he returns later to the same house, and he still gets no answer. He’s about to send a non-delivery message, when a Galra next door calls him.
“They’re not here anymore,” he announces Keith.
“They moved?”
The Galra shrugs. “Probably. They just leave one day.”
So Keith returns back to the headquarters and reports the package as “moved address”. He receives a call the next day from one of his colleagues, a very unfriendly half-Galra.
“I have no indication of a change of address,” he comments, rough.
“His neighbor said so.”
“He was wrong.”
“Or the consignee forgot to signaled it.”
The other is annoyed by Keith’s reply. “I trust more my database than you or that person. Go try to deliver it again and then reports it as not-deliver if they aren’t at the house again.”
“Fine.”
Keith doesn’t see the point into complain again, so he complies. Again, nobody answers at him ringing. This time, though, Keith decides to investigate more. He looks around and, when he’s sure he’s alone, he forces the windows open and enters in the house.
The smell is terrible, but unfortunately Keith saw enough death to recognize it isn’t a decomposing corpse. It’s rotten food, abandoned in the pantry. With a frown, he checks in the bedroom and the bathroom. The clothes are there too, and water and electricity still work.
It doesn’t look as the owner moves. It looks like he just… disappear.
He has no intention to inform his colleagues about his discover; he leaves the non-delivery message and makes a small investigation on his own in his company’s database. He notices the number of “non-delivery” in the hinterland of the planet is higher than the capital, and increases in the last two weeks. No surprise, all the non-delivery in the towns are from pure blood Galra families.
At his next travel to the town, Keith takes his time thanks to Kosmo to look around: all the houses he manages to check are in the same condition of the first one, as the people that lived there just disappeared.
It’s alarming, from Keith’s part, even if he can understand that pure blood Galra do feel unwelcomed in Daibazaal at the moment. Keith fears they left to join the Sincline Force, that may have some connection inside the Space Port. They could leave the planet without any trace in that case.
He asks Rhayn the first occasion he gets. “Have you noticed if there is an increased of moving recently?”
Rhayn raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“People moving outside Daibazaal.”
“Oh. Uhm.” Rahyn reflects. “No, I haven’t notice that. Usual movements at the Space Port. Why?”
“Trouble at works. People keep moving around and forget to warn us, and we run around for nothing.”
“That sucks. But they’re probably moving around Daibazaal? New house has been built recently.”
“Yeah, probably. We can’t check them all though. I hope someone will make a new inventory of the address.”
“Speaking about house, have you found something better than that motel?”
Before Keith can answer with another excuse about not wanting a house, Thiny stops in front of them. He’s young, five or four years younger than Keith, and one of the most affected by the Duaces’ meeting laws: his father lost his job and her mother accepted to work more so she won’t be fired too.
It’s one of the sadder story out there, but not the only one. Their weekly meeting at the bartender’s cellar becomes more and more a Listening Center than a pub for drinking something.
“Have you seen Voran around?” Thiny asks.
“I haven’t seen him yet,” Rahyn answers, “but he didn’t tell me he isn’t coming either.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Wait.” Keith stops him before Thiny leaves towards another group of Galra. “Why are you searching for him?” Red trembles in his pocket.
“Mind your business!” Thiny shrugs. “Just because.”
“It’s about the Sincline Force, isn’t it?”
“No way! How… How…” Thiny bits his lips. “And what if?”
Rhayn moves nervously. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not? Nobody is doing something for us! We need help! We can’t just keep like this!”
“I want to do something for my family!”
Keith breathes. “What Voran told you?”
“He said… Well, he didn’t say much, but I understand, you know? He has some connection to the Sincline Force. Please do not tell him I told you!”
“We won’t,” Rahyn assures him. “But maybe we should tell the Army. The Sincline Force aren’t the good people here. And you,” he adds, with a soft smile, “do not do anything you may regret.”
Thiny doesn’t look convinced, but he nods. Keith follows him as he asks the bartender for a drink and then sits down at the farer corner of the room, without speaking with anyone.
“Do you think Voran is a member of the Sincline Force?” Rahyn whispers.
Keith has suspects too. Voran has been the first one to speak positive thing about the Sincline Force, even if he never surpasses the limit that make people wary of his presence. Keith doesn’t want Rahyn to report Voran yet, not before he finds our more about Voran’s movement. Until now, Voran has been pretty prudent, and even when Keith did visit his flat, he didn’t discover anything useful about Voran.
If he’s there to lure more people for the Sincline Force, Voran will make his move sooner or later, and Keith will be there. He fixates his gaze on Thiny.
“I don’t know. Voran exaggerates sometimes, and Thiny may have get things wrong because he’s desperate.”
“…Guess you’re right.”
Rhayn moves the gaze to the ground, and Keith frowns. “Why do you look sad?”
“I don’t look sad,” Rhayn tries to reply. “It’s just-”
The entrance door is stroke from the outside, cutting his sentence. All the people on the room jump still, attentive. They have a secret code, a special way to knock in order to know they’re friend. The door is stroke again: someone from outside is trying to enter with brute force.
“Let’s go out of here, now!” the bartender yells, as he rushes to open the secondary door, the one that connect directly to his house, so they can escape from the front door or the windows. The hallway to get there is thin and half of the people are there when the door fells.
Keith’s eyes widen as Zethrid appears in the room, smirk on her face, who turns into a very angry grin once she notices the escape route.
“They’re try to run! Stop them from the other side!” she screams, before throwing herself against the group in order to block the door. Most of the Galra avoid her attack, but they find that the front door still remains unavailable for them, because Ezor is there, arm crossed.
Keith can’t afford to be caught, and can’t afford to be caught by them especially. His cover will blow out. He steps backwards from the secondary door, where Zethrid is fighting with three Galra, and eyes at Ezor.
“On your left.”
Red delivers the message and Ezor blinks, turning her head a little on the left. In that moment, Keith strikes. He doesn’t want to fight her, but he knows enough of her weakness to make her stumbling forwards, freeing the door. At that sight, some of the people in the room rush to it.
Ezor grumbles and stands up, ready to block them. She moves her tail to catch Keith’s feet behind her, but Rahyn throws a char at her, so she is forced to use the tail to grab it before being hit. A second later, another Galra is tackling her. Keith nods a second to Rahyn before rushing through the door.
Rahyn follows him. They jump the stair three steps at the time as they hear the fighting in the cellar and Ezor’s yells. They find themselves outside, in the dark and empty street. Keith plans to call for Kosmo, but he can’t do with Rahyn here. He opens his mouth to tell him to separate: the only sound he emits is a surprised whine as he feels someone grabbing him from behind.
He squirms, but the grip seems iron against his neck. There isn’t anyone behind him, just a hand catching him. Steps are getting nearer.
“Run!” Keith orders to Rahyn, who is standing in front of him, gasping. Rahyn passes the gaze between Keith and the figure approaching, until, with regret in his face, he nods, turns and runs away.
The grip on Keith’s neck loosens and the figure reaches him and grabs Keith’s right arm.
“Do not move.” The altean arm flies, following the dark silhouette of Rahyn, still running.
Keith breathes. He needs every ounce of his courage to look up at the man next to him, and still, when he does, he can’t refrain himself.
“Shiro!”
Keith notices Red passing his thought to Shiro before he can stop her. Shiro blinks, as his arm stops midair, and turns to look at Keith, his hazel eyes widen.
Keith misses him so much…
“Hey!”
Before Shiro has any chance to speak, the wolf teleporters Keith away.
***
When Acxa comes for him, Shiro is still in the dark hallway, looking in front of him where the Galra disappears in front of him. No, he doesn’t disappear – he got a cosmic wolf teleporting him away. Shiro doesn’t believe there is another person than Keith that tamed a cosmic wolf. And the voice that resound in his mind…
“There is something wrong?” she asks, as she notices he’s a little bit unfocused.
“No. Nothing.” He can’t tell her his suspicious. “Two of them escaped.”
Acxa shrugs. “It can’t be helped. We’re not here to arrest anyone after all.” She throws him another curious look. “I don’t like this either, but we agreed we need it to keep the Duaces at ease.”
“I know. Let’s go.”
They climb the stair to go in the cellar, as Shiro tries to shrug away his feeling, at least for now. In the cellar, Ezor and Zethrid rounded up the people they managed to stop in a corner. The pure-blood Galra are there, standing still next to the other, and throwing dark glares around. Some of them have bruises on their face.
When they noticed Shiro, they tensed up. Shiro’s face is enough recognizable on Daibazaal, more than the other Paladins. Acxa looks at him and he nods. He isn’t going to speak, nor if he can avoid here. As Zethrid told him, he can just stay there and look treating.
“We’re not the police or the Army,” Acxa starts, “so you’re not under arrest. Of course, by the current law, you should be reported, but we won’t do it either. If,” and Acxa makes sure to underlining the word, “you give us some leaning to the Sincline Force.”
Grumbles rise in the group.
“We don’t know anything,” says one of them.
“Yeah. We’re just here to enjoy ourselves.”
“We’re just all guilty for them…” murmurs someone, as the other nods.
Zethrid cracks her fingers. “I can help your memory.”
“No.” Acxa voice’s is firm. “We understand that the Sincline Force propaganda can be efficacy, but we’re here for the same reason – stop them so Daibazaal can return to normal. Any lead can be useful.”
The answers are only glares around, nobody move or speak. They don’t trust Acxa, and Shiro can’t blame them. He takes a step forward.
“The Sincline Force killed a person very dear to me,” he says. “You wouldn’t like to be there when I find them, believe me.”
Acxa looks at him. “We’re a lot more inclined to forgive you if you have any contact with the Sincline Force if you’re still unrelated to their crimes.”
“And why we should?” replies an angry voice. “It looks they’re acting for us more than you.”
Shiro looks at the owner of the voice, the younger of the group. The others don’t seem so happy of his outburst. “Killing the Red Paladin and kidnapping Kolivan is acting for you?” Shiro asks. “Tell me,” he orders, as the boy grits his teeth.
Ezor launches her tail and grabs the boy’s arm, dragging him forward. “Okay. Stop playing, tell us everything you know.”
“I don’t know anything, and I won’t tell you if I do!” he yells back.
“Please don’t hurt him,” another Galra says. “We don’t know anything for real, okay? We just… discuss.”
“Discuss?” Acxa raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, discuss… About the Sincline Force… who they are, what they can do, what we can do… But we don’t know anything for sure.”
Torture is out of question, so Shiro shakes his head. It’s a time losing action, and they all know it. They try other questions, but in the end they leave, asking all the Galra to come to them for any lead they may have, assuring them they won’t be reported for it. Shiro doubts they would do it.
“We did what we were asked to,” Acxa comments. “We don’t expect much to begin with.”
“Still, I’m annoyed,” Ezor comments. “We should really reconsider your ideas about torture.”
Acxa ignores her. “Tomorrow will continue our investigations.” She said that on Shiro’s behalf, or so he thinks. He nods.
“Sure.”
His mind is still too focused on that mysterious Galra boy that disappears on him with a cosmic wolf. He regrets not having asking about him to the other Galra, but he doesn’t want to tell Acxa and the other yet. He doesn’t dare to hope, and he doesn’t want to give the impression he starts to have hallucinations.
He knows the secret cellar. He knows the owner. He can return back alone and ask about the boy. He needs to find him so he can put himself at peace, Shiro thinks as he enters in his hotel’s room. He notices immediately something is off, a presence. Slowly, he closes the door and stands here, in the dark.
The light is turned on and the Galra boy is there, on the door of the bedroom. There is a sad expression on his face and Shiro can’t help but think there is something of Keith behind the pure-blood Galra façade. The cosmic wolf is at his next and then he trots next to Shiro and climbs on his legs.
Shiro is too occupied to look at the other to caress the wolf as it wants. He watches in awe as the Galra touches the collar of his vest. His entire body is surrounded by a violet light and his figure becomes blurry, until the light wears out.
And now Keith stands there, the same sad expression on his face.
“Shiro, I…”
He doesn’t finish it. Shiro walks steady towards him and grabs him by the shoulder. Keith’s expression turns shocked before Shiro lowers his head to kiss him. In the same time, Shiro touches him. He lets his arm slides down Keith’s back, Keith’s side, as the other rubs on Keith’s dark hair and neck. Keith takes a little to answers back to the kiss, and Shiro can notices the toes lifting and Keith’s arms on his own shoulders.
God, he’s alive. Keith is alive. Keith is there.
When they break the kiss, for a couple of second none of them speak. They don’t look at each other, but they don’t move an inch from each other, arms’ still on the other’s body.
Until Keith murmurs, “Shiro…”
So Shiro takes a step backwards. He takes a chair and nods at Keith to sit down, while he takes place on another chair, arm crosses. “Explain.”
He isn’t angry. He should be, he realizes, but he isn’t. Keith is alive. After days and days of mourning him, the relief that it was just a bad dream is too overwhelming. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to hear Keith’s side of the story. Keith understands his feelings and, for the first time, he smiles softly.
He sits down, Kosmo at his feet, and tells Shiro everything. He starts from the bombing, to the space pirates and the Zhimirians. He talks about Pidge and how she helped him to disguise as a pure blood Galra and his investigations around Daibazaal. He finishes with his last discover about the disappearing of pure blood families from the other towns of the planet.
Shiro frowns. “People don’t disappear like that. What do you think it happened?”
“I have no idea.” Keith shakes his head. “I fear the Sincline Force may have recruited them using the… situation it was created here in Daibazaal.”
Remembering what the young Galra told Shiro the same evening, it isn’t so far-fetched. “But hosting so many people… they must have a big base outside the planet,” Shiro guesses. “We should be able to locate it. Lance, Hunk and Allura are investigating in this direction.”
“I’m glad I can count on you, even…” Keith’s voice trails off, and he smiles. “Tell me about you. What are you doing there tonight?”
Shiro snorts. “The Duaces weren’t inclined to let me participate in their investigations about your… incident, at first. It doesn’t stop me to do it anyway,” Keith smirks at that sentence, and Shiro copies him, “but I still have to be careful about my move to avoid diplomatic incidents. So when Voran-”
“Voran?” Keith interrupts him.
“Yes. He’s the new head of the Blade of Marmora, after the Duaces asked Kolivan to step down until the investigations are over.”
“I’m surprise the Duaces put another pure blood there.”
“Voran isn’t a pure blood,” Shiro replies. Then, he understands, “well, he may look like one if he hides his tail, I suppose…”
A mixture of emotions passes on Keith’s face. “I made a big mistake…”
Shiro smiles. “I can understand the mistake. We’re so used to half-blood that looked different that… You were honest.”
Keith shakes his head. “Voran told you about the cellar?”
“Yes. He thought it may be a good idea sending us instead of the official guard, you know, to hope they would confess if giving a change of not being charged…” Shiro doesn’t let his eyes off Keith and catches every change on his face. “Voran disguised himself as one of that group, didn’t he?”
“Yes. And he was also one of the most vocal about the Sincline Force… in positive. Maybe he hoped to being recruited by them to reveal them?”
“It’s possible,” Shiro answers. “And when he realized it was a dead end, he sent us to make us believe we’re doing something.” Now Shiro is angry: he believed their raid in the cellar was useless already, he doesn’t need to hear that basically Voran sent them to cover his trash.
“I ended up there because of Rahyn, who was on the cruiser. Maybe Voran had the same idea as me.”
“You don’t look convinced,” Shiro states.
“It’s just… It’s like with Voran, you know? We didn’t realize he’s a half-Galra because he doesn’t look like one. We all believe the pure-blood Galra being behind the Sincline Force, and we still believe it even if, until now, we have more evidence that half-Galra are involved too…”
“We didn’t share what we know with the Duaces though,” Shiro points out.
“They didn’t share with you too,” Keith retorts. “And about that, did they tell you about the law they wanted me to approve?”
“No. Which law?”
“A law that forbid the marriage between pure-blood Galra. Apparently, they want to cancel the Galra Empire’s war crimes erasing the pure Galra genes.”
“Oh. I suppose the Sincline Force ruined their plans, sort of.”
Keith snorts. “Or, since I disagreed with them, they went for a more… direct approach.”
“What…”
“I mean, pure-blood families are already disappearing.”
Shiro doesn’t think he can be more surprised that night, not after finding Keith alive. He was wrong. “Keith…” he whispers, realizing what Keith had just hypnotized, “Does the Sincline Force exists for real?”
Keith is silent. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m not sure, but… The Duaces are anti pure blood Galra. They don’t want you to participate at the investigations about my death, and how convenient is my death for them: it revolted all the half-blood against the pure-blood. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before…”
“Okay. Listen, let’s not jump to conclusion.” Shiro places a hand on Keith’s knees. “First thing, we need to find out where all the disappeared went. It may give us a confirmation about it.”
Keith nods. “And I’ll go talk with Voran. If the Duaces are behind all this, I’m sure they would put one of them as a new head of the Blade of Marmora.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Shiro smiles barely. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to just leave like that.
Keith doesn’t move either. “Listen, Shiro… I’m very sorry. About everything. I miss you so much and… It’s just that…”
“If I believe you’re dead, everyone would,” Shiro concludes. It’s like that.
Keith swallows before nodding. “I’m sorry. If I can do… I don’t want this…”
I don’t want to lose you, it goes unspoken. Shiro understands. Keith isn’t going to lose him. Not anymore.
“Let’s solve this, and then I’ll take you to make up for this.”
Still, when Kosmo teleports Keith away, Shiro feels like his heart breaks another time.
***
Voran’s office at the Blade Headquarters is Kolivan’s old one. Keith finds it easy to teleporter inside at night, when mostly of the employees are off-duty. He would have done it just after his meeting with Shiro, but he decided to wait for the next night.
Since Voran was the one that send Shiro and the others at the canteen, it was entirely possible he would wait for their report in his office. It’s safer to let some time pass. And Keith himself needs some time too.
Meeting Shiro hasn’t be easy, and leaving him was even harder. He’s grateful his decision didn’t have long-term consequence in his relationship with Shiro as he feared, still he can’t hide to himself the fear and the sadness. Better taking a day off from the mission before compromising it.
But now he’s there, in Voran’s office. It doesn’t look as Kolivan’s anymore: all the objects and holo-photos from the time against Zarkon disappeared, alongside with the souvenirs Kolivan collected since the restoration of New Daibazaal. Even the desk was changed in from a wooden one to a modern crystal one.
Keith snickers. So much changes when Voran’s nominee is supposed to be temporary. The Duaces may have more plans for him, or Voran thinks too much of himself. Either way, Keith will see Kolivan’s return to his own office, and they better not have thrown away Kolivan’s objects.
Keith sits down at the desk and turns on the computer. He doesn’t have Voran’s credentials, so he can’t access at his private files, but the Blades’ computers have all the same software installed on and the mail address of the head of the Blades shouldn’t have changed from the time Kolivan uses it.
Keith uses Kolivan’s credentials to access. As he guessed, they don’t change it because they work only in the Blade Headquarters’ computers. There is an automatic system to detect when and where the credentials are used, but Keith is sure no one would check Voran’s computer. And if they do, they wouldn’t find strange the actual leader of the Blades can use the credentials of the former leader.
He checks the mails: most of them are about the normal activities of the Blades, nothing suspicious in there. Then he finds out the mails send to the Duaces about the investigation against the Sincline Force: they are brief and they don’t reveal anything. The mails don't reveal any details about it: Keith suspects most of the reports are done by voices.
It’s still interesting that the Duaces are using the Blades as a private militia instead as the humanitarian organization they’re turning into. The fact that most Blades are trained soldiers make everything easier.
Keith opens the Marmora Software, a Pidge’s creation to monitoring the situation of the Marmora bases around the universe. The screen looks a lot like an old management videogame, although the commands are more various and complicates.
Keith checks first the Headquarters and looks at the list of employees. Each near names it’s possible to find the current location and also open the personal index card of the employee.
Keith presses Voran’s name: he already knows his address because he followed him once, when he first suspected he can have some connection with the Sincline Force. No other personal useful information is there.
Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor are indicated as “off duty”, and settled at the Blades Headquarters. How much this was their decision to help with Shiro’s investigation, Keith can’t be sure. Looking at the number of the new missions they are organizing, it looks like the ordinary humanitarian activity continues, but no new missions have been implemented. It’s not good.
He selects the name of Masira, a half-Galra Blade Keith works with a couple of times. She stations at the Headquarters too at the moment, but unlike Acxa and the others, next to her name as current function there is the word “on duty”. No information about her activities is present on her file. Keith checks also the name of a Blade he knows for sure he’s a pure-Galra: he’s “on duty”, stationed on the Planet Periodan Base.
Keith frowns. That base was abandoned two years ago. Periodan as a planet was heavy exploited from the Galra Empire at the point that looks dead, completely drained of his quintessence. The Blades tried to restore some civilization, but after a couple of failed attempt, the inhabitants accepted to move to another planet. Periodan was left for the weeble to do his duty.
There isn’t even a real Blades base there, they used at first the old Galra Empire command, then it became unnecessary to build a base. It doesn’t make sense to send someone there. Keith moves from the Blade to the screen of Periodan’s quadrant, then selects the planet. A long list of names appears, as they all are on duty on Periodan Base.
A quick look at the pictures of the Galra tells him they are all pure-blood. Keith returns to search in the mails for their names. Voran authorized the transfers of all from the Bases they’re on duty before. The mails implied the transfers should be from outside planets to Daibazaal, but no further information are given. And it’s pretty clear all those people never reach Daibazaal.
So pure-Galra aren’t disappeared only from the town outside the capital, but from the entire universe. With a worried frown, Keith looks for his mother’s name: he’s sure she’s as safe as Kolivan, Pidge assured him about it, still… She results on “holiday” on the database, no location given. If this means Voran doesn’t know she’s on Altea, it’s reassuring.
Kolivan is signed as “off duty”, no location given too. In the mail, the Duaces spoke about his kidnapping as it was more a rescued mission from the Sincline Force, and despite what they declared at that time, no further action was taken against Kolivan.
Keith thinks he got as many information as he can from there. He turns off the computer and sends a message to Shiro to inform him. He also asks him if he can check the situation on Periodan, to make sure all those people disappeared for real.
Next move, speaking to Voran. Revealing what Keith just discovered may force Voran’s hands, but it can also be risky if Voran isn’t actually an enemy, so Keith decides for a more direct approach, but from another point of view.
The day after, once his shift at work ends, Keith reaches from Voran’s apartment and waits for his return. He doesn’t stay next to the door, but a little on the right, so Voran’s doesn’t notice him at first as he gets off from the lift, just right before dinner time.
“Nice tail,” Keith comments, as he reveals his presence and he takes two steps forwards. Red is in his pocket, ready for action.
“They found me!” As reflex, Voran wags it before wrapping around his right legs. “Yorak?” he frowns. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprised? You thought I was arrested when you sent your blades friends to the cellar?”
“So you found out.” Voran turns to the door of his apartment. “Hate me as you want, but you’re the one that were breaking laws.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
The automatic metallic door hisses as it opens and Keith is fast to place an arm on the jamb so Voran can’t enter.
“We were enjoying ourselves, as you well know,” he says. “You lied. You deceived us. You made us believe we can trust you while you are one of them.”
“You filthy pure-”
A flash of rage passes through Voran’s eyes. It lasts a second, and then Voran recollects himself. “What I did, I did for everyone.” He grabs Keith’s wrist and drags him away from the door. “I need to confirm you aren’t part of the Sincline Force. Sooner we find them, sooner everything will be better for you all too.” He enters the apartment and turns to face Keith, an amused smile on his face. “And Yorak, I’m pretty sure you can find better pubs that that cellar.”
Keith put a leg forwards to the door can’t close. “And maybe next time you will find you’re not as good as you pretend to be. The Sincline Force don’t like traitors, I can assure you.”
“Wait, what?” Voran frowns, and for the first time he starts. “Is this a threat?”
“Is it?” Keith replies, before stepping back. “Have a nice evening, as it last.”
He doesn’t wait for Voran’s reply, he turns and takes the lift.
“What the hell was that…”
He almost expects Voran to grab him on the spot, but it doesn’t happen. He leaves the building, just in case Voran is looking at him from the security camera on the hall and from the windows, then he takes the first dark hall, where Kosmo is waiting for him.
They teleport back on the landing, then, once Keith is sure Voran is still on the dining room, they move inside the flat, on the bedroom. As Kosmo remains at his side, muzzle under Keith’s grip, Keith places his back against the bedroom’s wall, just next the door, and put Red on his lap.
Voran turns on the kitchenette so it prepares dinner. He’s unusual calm, and Keith frowns. He expects Voran to call immediately the Duaces, or some of the Blades to put ‘Yorak’ under surveillance and investigation. Even if Keith’s words are fake, checking Yorak would be the obvious course of actions.
Unless, of course, Voran knows already Yorak can’t be a member of the Sincline Force, or in any way in contact with them. And the only way Voran can know if he is a member himself.
As the kitchenette cooks, Voran sits down at the table and takes his datapad. He puts the eardrop on and starts a call. Keith grits his teeth: he would prefer to listen to both side of the conversation. He should manage with only Voran’s words and Voran’s thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry, I’ll be fast. Have you already moved as I told you?”
“Of course you are. You’re a wolf.”
“No, well, if you have it doesn’t matter anymore. We don’t have any more time.”
“Unfortunately.”
“No, no, nothing. I’ll explain to you later. Don’t worry.”
“Holy Zela, don’t freak out.”
“Okay, fine, good evening.”
What a troublemaker. I shouldn’t have called him. Voran closes the call and, for a second, he looks at the datapad. But what if… he shakes his head. No, three quintants are too few. I don’t have the time. It’s too late.
Three quintants. Keith grips a little too much Kosmo’s muzzle, who waggles his tail in protest. Whatever they are planning, Keith has to find out and stop it, because it doesn’t look good.
At the moment Voran leaves the dining room to the bathroom, Keith springs in action. He reaches the table and, without moving it, he presses the datapad. The automatic password doesn’t activate yet, so Keith is able to check the last call: Voran spoke with a person named Ruxer. The name rings a bell in Keith’s brain, but he can’t really focus on it.
He rushes back on the bedroom just before Voran goes out from the bathroom. The dinner is ready, and Voran takes the plate to the table and turns on the holo-television. Nothing interesting happen during the evening, and Voran acts as Yorak’s visit doesn’t mean anything. Keith remains hidden in the bedroom until the movies Voran is watching ends, before deciding he wouldn’t discovered anything else.
The only positive thing of the day ends up being Shiro’s answer.
Sure do. I need to leave Daibazaal to meet with the others so I can check with Lance or Hunk if they can take a look on it. I’ll be back soon. ILY
ILY. I love you. It’s stupid, but it warms Keith’s heart.
***
The advantage of working for a shipping company is having an entire database of names to check, and in a legal way. It’s the first thing Keith does in the morning, before taking his packages to delivery. Lucky for him, there is a Ruxer in the database. He received two packages in the past, and the address is the same in both deliveries. Hopefully, it doesn’t change recently.
Keith takes his hoverbike for the delivery, but instead of reach for the first address on the list, he heads towards Ruxer’s address. Since seeing the hoverbike of the carriers isn’t unusual, Keith parks his own in plain sight, with a small package under his arm, and enters in Ruxer’s building.
It’s morning, and Keith hopes Ruxer would be out of the apartment for work. Red makes clear there is someone inside. With a snort, Keith calls mentally for Kosmo, that appears at his next. He places the package on the ground and let Kosmo teleports them inside the apartment’s bathroom.
Keith peeps inside the apartment: a man sits down at his desk, back at Keith, looking at his computer. Ruxer, Keith imagines. His face reflects on the hologram and, Keith guesses from his size, the form of his face and the color of his fur, he’s a half-Galra half-Balmeran. Keith decides he needs enough time to check on that computer.
He returns on the landing and rings at the door, then goes back to the bathroom. Ruxer stands up, reaches the door and checks through the video intercom. Of course, there isn’t anyone outside and Keith holds his breath as Ruxer remains in front of the door, without moving.
Then, he opens the door and takes a step outside, reaching for the package Keith left few minutes before. With a relieved sigh, Keith teleports next the door and closes it before Ruxer can turns and see him. Then, he opens the plaque with the electric system and deactivate the circuit of the door with a small electroshock. That should give him enough time to check the computer.
Red is on his shoulder, checking at the door to inform him of the movements outside. Keith sits at the desk and looks at the computer screen. Ruxer was looking at the recent news, nothing really suspicious at a first glare. The desktop is a mess with a lot of files Keith doesn’t have time to open.
He reaches for the searched bar. With the name “Sincline Force” a lot of documents appears, but they are mostly saved news from the internet newspapers. They start even before Keith’s death, as Ruxer collects them all with care. A sign of pride?
Then, he puts the data Voran spoke about yesterday: the only file found is the schedule for Ruxer’s shift. It still makes Keith unease, because it shows Ruxer works at the Spaceport.
Third word is Blade of Marmora, then Kolivan. Nothing useful emerges. He tries to search for Voran. Keith expects mostly mails or audio records of their calls, but instead a list of written documents appear. Keith opens one of them: it looks like a report from a scientific mission, dating back at the Galra Empire. It was compiled by Voran and signed by Rainveig.
With a frown, Keith checks some others documents. They are all reports from Voran for Rainveig. It looks Voran used to be the head of an explored team from the Rainveig army. Considering that Rainveig was famous for his scientific researches, other than the fact he was one of the most famous Zarkon’s general, it isn’t strange that he had teams looking for interesting new planets to conquer and utilized.
Keith opens the folder that contains all the document. It’s inside another one, named “reports”. There are four other folders than Voran’s one, all full of reports, and an imagine. Keith clicks on it.
It’s a photo. It shows five people, all wearing the armor of Rainveig’s army. They are, in order: Voran, Nuru, Plantux, Farux and Ruxer. They look younger than the version Keith met. They hug each others and smile at the camera; behind them, a Galra imperial cruise for harvesting quintessence.
With a swallow, Keith put the word ‘Plantux’ on the searched bar. As expected, the research finds all the reports, but nothing else. Red meows on his shoulder and looks at the still closed door. Keith breaths hard: he closes and cancels all the chronology of his researches and returns to hide in the bathroom.
Five tickles later, the door opens and Ruxer strums inside. He’s angry. After him, a technician; he looks at the electric system.
“A small overload, it happens sometimes,” he says.
“He shouldn’t!” Ruxes barks back. “Galra technology is the worst, I can’t wait for the day we all work with balmeran’s crystals.”
Keith holds his breath. He knows Ruxes’ voice. He’s the same of Plantux’s audio record Pidge recollected. The discover lights Keith’s brain and he remembers where and when he heard Ruxes’ name the first time.
Ruxes doesn’t only work at the Spaceport. He works at the communication office of the Spaceport.
***
It’s almost evening when Keith returns back his hoverbike to his company parking. He neglected his work from the past two quintants, to investigate Voran and Ruxes’ whereabouts, but there is a limit of deliveries he can postpone from shift to shift and he wants to avoid problematic questions from his superiors.
Besides, his investigations were useless. Voran and Ruxes don’t do anything suspicious. Of course, Keith can’t follow them everywhere, but they have their routine house-work that doesn’t make them look like some terrorists. So Keith decides he needs to face them directly: tomorrow would be the day about their mysterious “thing to do” so Keith will try to understand what it is before it happens.
He leaves the undelivered packages, compile the reports of the day and heads to his motel to collect back Kosmo and Red: he will need them to face Voran and Ruxes. He takes a completely empty public transportation and gets down two streets before his motel.
The city is strangely silent. He noticed nobody was in the office, and nobody on the bus, which is unusual but not impossible. The silent city is somewhat unnerving. Keith walks with steady and prudent steps.
In the silence, he notices immediately the rumors, even before approaching the dark hall next to the motel. He takes a deep breath and acts, jumping in the hall and pushing the other person against the wall.
“Whoa whoa, calm down, man.”
“Thiny?” Keith releases him and blinks in the dark.
“Yeah, well…” he coughs, rubbing his collar. “You’re a little nervous, aren’t you?”
Keith crosses his arms. “You have a habit to wait for people in dark alleys?”
“No.” Thiny looks down, uncertain. “I did a big mistake… And now Rhayn has been arrested and my parents too and…”
“Wait. Rhayn was arrested? Why? What happened?”
“And my parents too! They let me escape but… It’s… it’s my fault. I…” Thiny sobs.
“Okay. Come with me. You need to calm down and explain me properly.”
Thiny nods and he follows him to the motel. In the hall, there are two Blades that are talking to the owner of the motel. As they enter, all three turn their gaze on them, and the owner nods.
“Are you Yorak?” One of the Blades takes a step towards him, while the other checks his datapad. Thiny hides behind Keith.
“Yes. Why?”
“You have to come with us.”
“Why?”
“Duaces’ orders.” He shifts his gaze to Thiny, who is trying to leave the hall without anyone noticing. “Stop. Who are you?”
Keith grips Thiny’s wrist, but do not diverts his gaze from the Blade. “I’m not going anywhere if I don’t get an explanation.”
“They don’t have any!” Thiny struggles to get free from Keith’s grasp. “They took my parents too!”
“Those are-”
Keith doesn’t let the Blade finishes his speech. He releases Thiny and jumps forwards. The Blades can be well trained, but Keith was trained better. He kicks the other leg to make him fall and then he elbows him in the face to knock him down, while he extracts the knife with the other hands.
The others Blade extracts the gun; Keith is faster. He transforms the knife in the sword as he springs forwards. He spars a shotgun with the blade and then cuts the gun in half. He pushes the Blade against the hall desk and trusts the sword just next the Blade’s face.
He shots a look at the motel’s owner, who is about to turn on the alarm. “Don’t even try,” he orders. The owner gulps and steps backwards, far from the desk.
Keith turns back his attention to the Blade.
“What does it mean? What are you doing, going around arresting people without reasons?”
The Blade pants under Keith’s grip. “Duaces’ orders.”
“I already know that. I want to know why.”
“The last measure against the Sincline Force, that’s all I know.”
“So you’re arresting pure-blood all around the city?”
The Blade nods.
“And where are you bringing them?” Keith lifts his sword under his head. “Where?”
“The Recreational hall. I don’t know anything else, I was just following orders… please…”
Keith put away his blade and then he releases the other man. He doesn’t look at the owner as he turns to Thiny and gestures at him to follow. Thiny looks around, at the still open door of the motel, and the still awake Blade. He takes a step towards the door.
“Come,” Keith orders.
Thiny doesn’t look happy when he reaches him, but he waits for the lift door to close before explain his concerts. “We should have run. They know we are here, they’re calling for reinforcement… Tell me there is a secret exit in this motel. Please tell me.”
Keith doesn’t answer, at first, and lets Thiny rambling. He hears Red in his mind as they reach his room’s floor and orders her and Kosmo to remain hidden for now. Once they close the door of the room behind them, Keith speaks, “we don’t have much time before they’ll come for us. So now you sit there,” he points at the bed, “and explain me everything. From the start.”
Thiny sighs deeply, but realizes he doesn’t have many choices. He sits down, hands in his laps. “Do you remember the night the cellar was attacked?” At Keith’s nod, he continues, “the day after, a person came to me. Said Voran spoke about me… about the fact I want to contribute at the pure-blood cause.”
“You met a man from the Sincline Force?”
Thiny nods.
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t show much of himself… I don’t think I can recognize him. He was a big man, very big… Voice low, raspy…”
Keith takes his datapad and select the second audio record of Plantux. “Is this voice?”
“Yes! That’s it!” Thiny’s eyes bulges. “How… How do you know it?”
Ruxer. Damn. “Go on,” Keith says.
“Well, okay… this man… give me… a bomb.”
“A bomb?!”
Thiny looks awful sorry as he nods. “He orders him to put it under the Red Paladin’s statue on the main square, in order to destroy it. It wasn’t for killing someone, just… to send a message.”
Keith takes a deep breath. As much as he hates that statue and would love to see it destroyed, the situation is deeply concerning. “It doesn’t look to me the Sincline Force is restrained itself from killing.”
“I know! I know! I’m sorry, okay?” Thiny shuts his eyes and breathes. “That is why I changed my mind and brought the bomb to Rhayn.”
“To Rhayn,” Keith repeats.
“I… I can’t go to my parents, I was too ashamed. Rhayn gave me some advices before, so I thought he knew what to do.” He sighs. “And he did. He told me to forget about everything, and he would pretend to be the one with the bomb. He would have reported it to the army hoping to give them a lead to the Sincline Force.”
“And instead, they arrested him.”
Thiny nods again. “I… I didn’t know what to do. I felt I can’t talk to anyone else or they’ll be arrested too… and then, tonight, they came from me and my parents and I… I…”
“You came to me, so I suppose you don’t really care about endangering me,” Keith comments bluntly.
“Well, no. Yes. I mean…” Thiny blinks. “No!” He jumps still. “I don’t have anyone else to go, okay? My friends are mostly half-Galra, and they… I can’t trust them anymore. Even if some of them still speak to me, I saw it. I saw their gaze, their doubt…” He laughs bitterly. “And they are right in the end, aren’t they? I took that bomb.”
“But you didn’t use it. That’s the difference.”
Thiny looks at him but he wasn’t convinced. Keith breathes deeply. He doesn’t expect the situation to degenerate so fast and so bad. He knows reconstructing a Galra nation on the ruins of the empire won’t be easy, but he doesn’t image this kind of development. He thought the conflicts would come from outside, from the planet that were under Zarkon’s control, not from the inside.
His mind brings him to his mother, and to his future brother. And then to Thiny, and to his pain, and his mistake. Keith wouldn’t let his brother to born in a world like that, and wouldn’t let him face something like Thiny had.
Someone knocks at the door. “Yorak. Open the door and surrender. You’re surrounded.”
Thiny looks at the door with fear, then he shots a disappointed glare at Keith. “I told you!”
“Time to go,” Keith nods. He grabs Thiny’s shoulder as Kosmo emerges from behind the bed, Red curled on its back. Kosmo teleports them outside, at the end of the street that brings to the motel, so Keith can check if the Blades are surveilling the street too. It doesn’t seem so.
“What… what…” Thiny doesn’t move from Keith’s grip, blinking to realize what happened. “You have a Cosmic Wolf? Like the Red Paladin? This is so cool!”
“Shh,” Keith gestures to him.
Thiny nods, but he seems unable to shut up, even if he speaks with a lower tone. “So, what do we do now? We need to save my parents. And everyone else, too!” Suddenly, he looks too much excited. “The Recreational hall. We need to go there.”
“We aren’t going there.”
“Why not?”
“You know where The Recreational hall is?”
Thiny nods. “It’s just behind the spaceport, right?”
“Yes. And since tonight, the spaceport will be closed from international transportation because of a renovation. Looks too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“What does it mean?”
“Let’s find out.”
Kosmo teleports them directly inside the Spaceport, in the area outside, where the smallest pods of the Blades are parked. It’s an area enough isolated to not be checked too much at night, but is nearest enough for them to check the launching pad and looking at the situation without being spotted.
“What are those?” Thiny asks, pointing at the three enormous dark spaceship ready to launch at the end of the launching pad.
“Imperial Galra cruisers,” Keith answers. They should have been dismantled at the end of the war.
“The Sincline Force?”
Keith doesn’t have a clear answer for it. And since it’s dark, he can’t see clearly who are the people around the cruisers and what they are doing. But Keith fought against the cruisers for long he remembers enough of their architecture, so he asks Kosmo to teleporter them right over one of them, just at the back where they can hide behind the engine’s wing.
From there, Keith can see the employees of the Space Port as they prepare the cruisers for launch, and some Blades sticking around, checking the situation. They are all half-Galra.
Then, a group arrive from right, from the direction of the Recreational hall. Keith counts twelve robot sentinel and three Blades that accompanied a group of twelve pure-blood Galra. The pure-blood have their hand cuffed on the front and they’re dressed with the usual prisoner uniform.
Another Blade welcome the group at the entrance of the Cruiser. They check on the datapad, comparing a list of names with the group of prisoners. “Confirmed. Bring the next group.” The Blade enters in the cruiser, followed by the robot sentinels that drag the prisoners, while the other three Blades take with them another dozens of sentinels that are waiting in front of the cruiser before returning in the same direction they came from.
The prisoners don’t complain. Keith guesses they’re done to, if they were treated as the Blades tried to do with him too. A brief look around gives him the certain that in the other two cruisers similar operation has been held.
“They… They are bringing them away! We need to stop them!”
Thiny is about to jump off the cruiser, but Keith blocks him. “What are you going to do, with all this surveillance?”
“But we need to! My parents…!”
Keith nods. “Those cruisers are imperial. It means they’re still fuel by quintessence and not by the balmeran crystals.” He gestures with his head at the gigantic tube that connect the cruiser to the Spaceport main building.
“And this is a positive thing?”
“Yes, because quintessence is limited, and for making the cruisers working they need a quantity we don’t store usually here in Daibazaal. If we can make it dispersing, they won’t be able to launch. Not for tonight, at least.”
“I’m in. What I have to do?”
Keith reflects: he doesn’t like the idea to put Thiny in danger, but he’s outnumbered and he really needs a hand at the moment. He could ask for Acxa and the others, or even call Shiro, but stopping the launch required immediate moves. He takes his datapad and his knife and gives them to Thiny.
“Listen carefully,” he says. “I’m going in, directly in the storage tank, and I’ll deactivate the quintessence storage. I can manage to direct it to another direction and make it disperse in the ground. But I need a distraction.” Keith points out at the end of the tube, where it disappears inside the building. “Quintessence is very powerful, so the tube is composed by thick and short pieces to resist at the strength. Find the point of contact between the two pieces and tighten it. The quintessence would push to pass in a smaller space and it’ll ring an alarm in the control room. They’ll be too much focused on finding the leak they won’t check the main storage tank where I’ll act.”
“But isn’t better if we block together all the tubes?” Thiny asks.
“No, because it’ll trigger an explosion that may destroy the cruiser too, that’s way I need to act directly at the storage tank, where the quintessence isn’t under pressure,” Keith explains. “You have to tighten the pieces to let still enough quintessence passing, okay? Can you do it?”
“…I can.”
“Good.” Keith places a hand on Kosmo’s back. “If something – anything – bad happen in this operation, just stop, Kosmo will teleporter you out of it, but do not act on your own. Hide and use my datapad to call for Shiro. Show him my knife. He’ll know what to do.”
“What about you?”
“If I won’t be able to stop the launch, I’ll have to follow them at least.”
Kosmo teleports him right inside the storage tank. He knows the structure, he knows where intervene and where to hide to not be spotted. Red, still settles on Kosmo’s fur, looks at him with annoyance on her cat face.
“Buddies. I need you to help Thiny. I’ll manage.”
Kosmo rubs his head against Keith’s chest and it licks his face before disappearing again in the usual small flash of blue light. Keith is alone, without his knife and his datapad. He can handle it, he had it worse.
He focuses his attention to the tank. And he waits: once the alarm goes on, he jumps out of his hideout and reaches the tank. There are small fuses all around the bottom, they are used to liberate the quintessence if something happens. Quintessence is a dangerous source of energy and it can cause explosion if it isn’t controlled.
Keith opens the fuses one after another. It won’t be notice at first because the alarm from outside, and because whoever he’s in the control room, he would reduce the flow of the quintessence to stop the explosion in the tubes. Once they notice, the tank should be already half empty, which means they won’t able to fill all the cruisers.
“Stop right there!”
Keith is at the last fuse when the door opens and a team of guards appears, guns in hands. He snorts: they shouldn’t have able to detect his presence so fast, not until the alarm from outside still rings. He moves nearer the tank.
“Are you going to shoot? In here?” he asks.
They can’t: as much as they tank is built with a resistant metal, any no-controlled hole would risk for the quintessence to go out too fast and explode. Still, Keith knows he can’t stall them for long, but he hopes it will suffice to end the quintessence.
The guards move aside from the door and a group of robot sentinels enters in the room. They don’t have any gun, they don’t need to: Keith doesn’t have the knife with him to fight them. He gets near the tank as much as he can and doesn’t move until the sentinels are enough near to grab him, then jumps on one of them and rushes on the other side of the room. With the corner of his eyes, he notices the guards reaching the tank to close the fuses and he grits his teeth.
But now the door is free. One of the sentinels grabs his vest and Keith kicks it out of the way. He avoids the arm of another sentinel, then he takes it by the leg and throws it against the group of guards. He trips towards the door and his hand is already on it as he feels a shotgun.
He lowers to avoid it, but it isn’t a laser gun, it’s a Taser gun. It’s enough for it to rub Keith’s arm to shot him with a small charge of electricity. Keith grits his teeth and manages to remain still, using his hand to move forwards, but his small stop is enough for the other sentinels to reach him and pin him on the floor.
Keith struggles to break free until one of the guards takes him and cuffs Keith’s hand behind his back. The guards keep his grip on Keith’s hand as he activates his interphone in the bracelet on his arm.
“Sir, we caught the intruder. As you said, the real attack was here in the tank room. We secured it again. I think we don’t have much quintessence losing.”
“Good.” It’s Voran’s voice.
“Should we bring him to the cruiser?”
“No, bring him to me. I need to interrogate him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Well, that settles it. It isn’t the confrontation Keith anticipated, because he would have preferred being in an advantage position, but he still will take the best of it. The guard drags him outside the tank room, upstairs until the control room of the entire Spaceport.
Ruxer sits down at the desk, back towards Keith, and he’s checking the camera screen that shows the cruisers outside. Voran is lowering towards him, as he murmurs something to the interphone about checking the quintessence levels.
“Sir,” the guard calls.
Voran straights his back and turns to the door. “Thank you. Please, return to your duty at the cruisers.”
The guard reserves a last look to Keith as he doesn’t trust to leave him, but in the end he nods and pushes Keith a little bit forwards before leaving. The door closes and Keith hears clearly the lock three times, which means that the sliding door could be open only from the control panel and not just from the button next to the door. Looks like they’re not taking risk.
Voran tilts his head on the side, as he watches Keith carefully, and smiles. He opens his mouth to speak, but Ruxer precedes him. He stands up in a second and rushes forwards to pin Keith against the wall, his claws grip in Keith’s shoulder.
“You’re dead. I’ll kill you.”
“Ruxer, please. This isn’t necessary.”
Ruxer turns his head and bares his teeth. “This wouldn’t have necessary if you had told me about all this. But no, of course! Nothing happened, you said!” he mimics. “I would stop him before but no, let not worry and we almost lose the quintessence.”
Voran crosses his arm and rolls his eyes. “Are you done?”
“You’re not listening,” Ruxer replies. “He knows too much. Someone that just arrived a couple of months ago can’t know where the quintessence tank is and how to sabotage it.”
“He doesn’t know shit.” Voran snorts.
Well, Keith has something to say about it. “Well, I do know you’re not going away with this. You can’t make so much people disappeared and having everyone else being okay with it.”
Voran doesn’t look impressed. “Actually, we can,” he murmurs, “because aren’t people that disappear, but a disease. People will be okay with it, because everyone hates you. Pure-blood Galra! The worst being in the entire universe.” He releases a small laugh. “You’re a curse. Once you all will be gone, we’ll be finally free from the ghost of the empire. The universe won’t see us as cruel conquered anymore. We’re sorry, but for us to survive, you need to disappeared. It’s for the greater good of Daibazaal.”
“And killing Plantux was also for the greater good?” Keith retorts. That is something they don’t expect. They stop.
“He was your friend,” Keith continues. “I saw the photo. You all, you three and the Duaces, under Rainveig’s command. And you killed him.”
“You… That was you. Overload my ass.” Ruxer isn’t an idiot. His grip on Keith’s shoulders tightens. “Now can I kill him?”
“I know who kidnapped Kolivan,” Keith continues. “And I know you are the one that gives Thiny a bomb. Good job in making everyone believe pure-blood are behind everything.”
Voran is pissed. His tail wags from one side to another. He looked so calm and collect and he isn’t happy to realize he doesn’t have everything under control. “Who are you?” he demands, slowly. The tone is low, controlled. “Are you one of Kolivan’s men? He sent you to investigate? Who are you?”
He gets near and his tail slides through Keith’s chest until his face. Keith refrains himself to gag at the touch, as he realizes Pidge’s suit isn’t made for accurate corporal search. He waggles his legs in hope to push him aside, but Ruxer’s grip doesn’t fade. Voran blocks Keith’s leg with his tail and narrows his eyes.
“Something’s wrong.”
As Keith fears, if people touch him for long, they realize he doesn’t have a real fur, or pointed ears. He holds his breath as Voran directs his attention to the small metal plaque Keith has at the center of his chest. Pidge made the switch of the suit in the easier position for Keith to use, camouflaged as a clothes decoration. Wise choice if Keith need to return fast to his own self, but it makes impossible for Keith to avoid Voran finding the switch below the plaque and turn it off.
Keith grits his teeth and waits for the violet light to disappears before acting. The sight of his true self, as expected, paralyze the other two. Voran’s tail return to his side and Ruxer’s grip loosens enough for Keith to butthead him. Keith falls on the ground and he jumps still immediately after. He rushes towards the control panel.
Ruxer snaps out from his surprise in time to grab Keith again and smashes him on the ground. “You aren’t dead yet?” he yells in Keith’s face. “How is it. We killed you twice and you’re still alive? You won’t revive a third time, I’ll make sure of it.”
Voran hasn’t moved yet. Then, he starts laughing, loudly, his chest trembling. “Rhayn.”
“What?” Ruxer blinks, as confused as Keith.
“Rhayn,” Voran repeats, as he directs to Keith. “You thought Rhayn was the culprit of your bombing. You came here in disguise to investigate on him, that’s why you were there at the Witch’s den.” He laughs again. “I’m glad to know we managed to deceive the Red Paladin.”
“Yeah, well, I concede you that,” Keith snorts back. “The farce is over now. We know Plantux have been killed here in Daibazaal, we know that half-Galra kidnapped Kolivan, we know enough about your plan. I know before this night pure-blood are disappearing outside the capital. The Paladins know.”
“And what are you going to do with all this knowledge, once you’ll be dead?” Ruxer growls.
“We’re not going to kill him,” Voran says.
“What? No! Don’t you listen? He knows too much.”
“It’s true,” Voran nods. “However… It may be true the Paladins know. They rescued Kolivan, after all. They may know how Fixi and the others faked their deaths.”
For once, Ruxer hesitates. His voice is broken as he speaks, “so we failed? There’s nothing we can’t do?”
“I’m not saying that.” Voran crosses his arm. “We need to speed up our plan.”
“Again?”
“Yes. There is no choice. We need to act before someone may interfere. I’ll speak with Fixi. In the meantime…” He moves his eyes to Keith, “having a hostage against the Paladins may be good.” He turns on his communication devices and a female voice answers.
“Yes, sir?”
“Come to the communication room, and bring with you a restrain equipment. We have a dangerous prisoner we need to take care of.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tch. I would have preferred to kill you myself,” Ruxer snorts, but he loosens a little his grip.
“Maybe you’ll have your occasion,” Keith answers.
Voran kneels down. “We knew your mother. Before. With Rainveig.” He presses the switch on Keith’s dress to disguise him again as a pure-blood. “She was the only one to treat us as actual human beings instead of inferior creatures. When we discover your existence, we understood the reason.”
“She’s a pure-blood. You hate them,” Keith states,
“We do.” There is a soft smile on Voran’s face. “We don’t want to kill her, but we don’t have any choice. And whose fault it is? Yours. The only thing you had to do, oh mighty Red Paladin, was to help Farux and Nuru with their marriage law. No killing, no deceiving, nothing: the Galra would be erased naturally. But of course you didn’t.”
Keith grits his teeth. “Don’t you dare to blame this on me. You killed your own friend.”
“I didn’t want to, but he gave me no choice. He wanted to quit. He’s a traitor of his own kind, just like you,” Ruxer mutters, as Keith didn’t even talk. “But I prefer it this way, a fast and definitive sweeping of the pure-blood so, thank you, I guess.”
Voran puts the metal plaque back to his place above the switch, and then presses the edges until he twists them enough to stick the plaque in place, so Keith would be able to deactivate the suit even if he has his hand free.
“So be happy, you’ll die together with you beloved pure-blood, and as a one of them.”
“That will see,” Keith replies.
Voran smiles again and stands up. He opens again the sliding door in time for a Blade to arrive. Keith recognizes her. “Mas-” he tries to call, but Ruxer steals away his breath by lifting him as he is a ragdoll.
“I bring the equipment,” Masira says.
“Thank you.” Voran takes it from her arms and returns fast back to Keith. First he put on the metal muzzle, covering the lower part of Keith’s face. As he secures Keith’s arm around his waist with a chain and cuffs his ankles too, Ruxer taps the muzzle.
“This was used with gladiators too. If you keep it too much, it creates a very bad scar right here.” And, with a smirk, he points at the middle part of his nose. “But maybe you like it.”
Keith’s eyes flashes. Ruxer is lucky Keith has other plan in mind than killing him at the moment, otherwise he wouldn’t have hesitated to make him sorry of even try to nominate Shiro and his scars.
“Please, Masira, bring him to the first cruiser,” Voran orders, pushing Keith in her direction. “Put him in an isolated cell and do not free him from his restraint. We suspect he’s one of the higher-ups of the Sincline Force and we don’t want to risk him trying something.”
“Understood,” she replies. “The first cruise should be ready to launch, too.”
“Good. Let me know once this is done so we can give you the coordinates.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Keith follows docile Masira in the hallways of the Spaceport building, he wonders if Voran chose Masina to show him than even his friends, even the half-Galra he believes to aren’t on their side anymore. Keith isn’t going to fail for his trap. There is a reason he benched people like Acxa after all.
He ears Red in his mind. Voran didn’t nominate Thiny at all, so Keith suspects he doesn’t know Thiny helped with the sabotage. Hearing Red is just the confirmation that Kosmo was able to transport them and avoid Thiny to be captured.
“No!” he orders. “Stay there. Protect Thiny. Bring him out of there.”
Thiny has orders. Shiro will know how to proceed with the new information. Keith has other things to do. Since he hasn’t managed to stop the launch, the only thing it remained to do is going with the cruisers. Those people, the pure-blood Galra, won’t face whatever Voran and the others prepared for them without Keith.
***
“Lance arrived. They’re waiting for you in Room #3.”
“Thank you, Veronica.”
She smiles. “Just sent me my little brother after you’re finished with him so I can poking him around.”
Shiro nods. He closes all the tabs of his computer – being on holiday only means more work at his return – and reach Room #3, which is one of the most private meeting room, the one with sofa instead of chairs. The other Paladins are there.
Lance is spread on the sofa, his pilot suit still on. Despite his chatting with Allura, he looks tired. Shiro speaks to him.
“Thank you for finally join us, Lance.”
Lance shots him a glare. “Hey, I was out working for you!” he complains. “Sorry if you sent me to the other side of the universe!”
Shiro sits down next to him and pats his kneel. “Where are Krolia and Kolivan?”
“Since the matter we’re discussing today includes the new head of the Blades, they’re investigating on their past archive if they find some information about them. Knowing your enemy.”
“Okay,” Shiro nods. “What did you find, Lance?”
“You were right. Periodan is still abandoned. Whoever the new head of the Blades send their men, it’s not there. But,” he smirks, “we may know where.”
Shiro blinks. “You’re forgiven for your delay. Where?”
Lance smiles satisfied. “I think the credit is more to Hunk. If you please.”
“Oh, sure.” Hunk takes off his datapad. “Since you discovered that the Sincline Force is recreating the robot sentinels and using the old imperial technology, Allura and I tried to focus on searching a possible route for the needed materials.”
“Coran made me noticed that the robot sentinels are made with specific kind of metals,” Allura adds. “So we used or diplomatic connections to search specifically for those metals.”
“Of course, they have multiple uses, so buying them isn’t so unusual, but buying all of them together may ring a bell,” Hunk continues. “So I made a chart of all the commercial route to Daibazaal, and I made an interesting discover: there aren’t private Galra company that ordered all the metals, only the Daibazaal government. But I spoke with a lot of people and checked a lot of documents, and there is only one Galra captain that happened to collect of all the metals for the government at least once. What a curious coincidence.”
“And the captain is Plantux, I guess.”
“Shiro, dude, I love you, but would you like leave Hunk his moment?” Lance complains.
“Sorry. Who is the captain you’re talking about, Hunk?”
Hunk reserves him a raised eyebrow. “At that point of my investigation, we don’t have the information about a possible involvement of Daibazaal government.”
“You still have to explain us how do you get this information, Shiro,” Allura comments.
“In the same way Pidge found out about Plantux’s mysterious death. We all have secret sources around,” Shiro answers. Allura doesn’t seem convinced, and Pidge shots him a glare.
“However,” Hunk goes on, “It was better that I didn’t have this information at the time, because I assumed Plantux stole some of the metals destined to the planet for himself. And then, I asked myself: what if Plantux has a secret base out there where he hides the stolen metals?”
He projects a small chart from his datapad, with a map of a galaxies. “For example, there are mines of poliartu in those three planets in the same quadrants of Daibazaal, but Plantux collected it only from here.” And indicates one of the three planets. “Maybe because it’s the nearest to Plantux’s secret hideout.
“Hunk asks me to hack inside Daibazaal Spaceship and searched for Plantux’s route, to see how much time he travelled.”
“Combined all the planets of the metals and Plantux’s timetable,” Hunk moves a little his map, “it’s entirely possible his secret hideout is this.”
“What is it?” Allura asks.
“It’s an asteroid in the orbit of Punjus. It’s a gassed planet just like our Jupiter, so it’s inhabited, and so it is the asteroid. And it’s the only planet of his solar system, so it’s like the perfect secret base.”
“This was brilliant, Hunk,” Shiro says, impressed.
“That’s my best friend for you,” Lance comments, smug.
“But it’s just a hypothesis,” Pidge intervenes. “And now that we suppose the government is involved, maybe all Hunk’s calculations are just… a strange coincidence.”
“Ouch, this hurt,” Hunk complains.
“We still have all the missing Galra around, they must be somewhere,” Allura says. “The government involvement does not invalidate the existence of a secret base.”
“After all, I’m not sure they would be able to do the same on Daibazaal, so it makes sense even for them to have another place for their secret activities,” Shiro adds.
“All yours hypothesizes are cute,” Lance murmurs, “but they could have been avoided if you just asked, hey, Lance, don’t you happen to have taken a look on that asteroid, right?”
Hunk chuckles. Allura frowns. “Lance. I hope you didn’t go there all alone. It was pretty dangerous.”
“Danger is my second name,” Lance smirks.
Shiro coughs and Lance widens his hands, in a surrender gesture. “I used Pidge’s magic system to be invisible and I stayed only ten doboshes, more or less.” He ignores Pidge’s complains about the fact her system isn’t magic at all and continues, “first of all, there are some old galra cruisers floating around the asteroid. I don’t think they can fly, they’re too ruined, but since we already saw them utilizing the old spaceship as a sentries’ factory, it’s possible they have the same functions.”
“And on the planet?” Shiro presses.
“There is a Galra base. I recognize the architecture. I didn’t go inside, I just made a fast scansion of the building. There are people inside.”
Allura presses his lips together. “So now we just need to understand if the people there are members or prisoners of the Sincline Force.”
“You said you have the scansion of the building?” Pidge asks. “Can I have it?”
“Sure.” Lance transfer his data on her computer and she starts elaborate them.
“I’m 99% sure it’s a prison.” She projects the hologram of two different structure. “On the right, Lance’s base.” She ignores Lance’s protests about the fact it isn’t ‘his-his’, “and on the left the prison Matt had been once.” She taps her datapad and the two holograms merge together. It’s clear they have the same structures.
“So, we can assume the Daibazaal Government is taking the pure-blood Galra prisoners. Our next course-” Shiro stops talking as his datapad rings. He takes off with the idea of turning it off, when he notices Keith’s number on it. “Sorry, I have to answer this.”
He rushes outside the room without waiting for an explanation; he takes off the glasses connect to the Atlas so she can create on the spot a private room for him, where he locks himself before answering.
On the other side of the datapad, there isn’t Keith. The face of a young Galra appears, and he looks as confused as Shiro.
“Uhm…” he says, uncertain. “You’re the Black Paladin.” He sounds almost disappointed.
“I’m sorry if I’m not the person you’re expecting.”
“Oh, no, no, just, uhm, surprised.” The Galra looks around, shy. “To be honest, I was looking for a person named Shiro. Do you happen to know him?”
“I know him,” Shiro confirms. “I know him as I know myself.”
The Galra frowns a little, until he gets it. “Oh. Okay. So, you, uhm, are Shiro. I don’t expect it.” And he adds something with lower tone Shiro doesn’t understand.
“This is pretty clear.” But Shiro decides it’s time to stop joking. “May I ask who you are and why you have my friend’s datapad?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, sorry.” The Galra stops muttering under his breath and focuses again on Shiro. “I’m Thiny, and, well, they’re kidnapping all the pure-blood here in Daibazaal. I think they’re the Blades or the Duaces, it isn’t clear, but they’re stored all of them to send them off planet. Including my parents!”
He stops, his face in pain for a tickle. “We were trying to stop them, Yorak and I. But we didn’t. I managed to escape, Yorak got captured, but he told me that if something bad happened I should have called this Shiro, who turns out it’s you, because you know what to do.”
In Thiny’s entire discourse Shiro only gets a ‘Yorak was captured’ part he doesn’t like a little bit.
“Yorak told me to show you this. You know, to prove everything’s true.” Thiny lifts a knife and holds it for the camera.
Keith’s blade. Shiro has no doubt it’s Keith blade. Kosmo push his head against Thiny’s waist, and it appears on camera.
“Stay put, this isn’t the moment.” Thiny tries to push Kosmo back, with no avail.
“I see you have Kosmo too,” Shiro says dryly. It isn’t a good news, because wherever Keith is, he’s without his sword, and without his wolf.
“Oh, yes, Yorak let him to me for, you know, let me escape. Wait, he calls him Kosmo too? He has a cosmic wolf and he calls him as the Red Paladin’s one? Is Yorak like a biggest fan or…” Thiny stops, he sticks his yellow eyes on Shiro and then, he realizes, “oh, Holy Zela, Yorak is the R-”
“Shut up,” Shiro orders.
Thiny closes his mouth, but his expression speaks for him.
“You told me Yorak was captured. What does it mean? Explain.”
“We were at the Spaceport, we tried to stop the cruisers with all the prisoners to launch. We separated. When the guards came for me, Kosmo teleported me away, but still in the spaceport. From there, I saw as Yorak was dragged inside one of the cruiser. I guessed he was captured and our rescue mission failed. I waited until there isn’t anyone anymore in the spaceport before calling you.”
“Okay.” Shiro breathes hard. “So you’re telling me there is a Galra cruiser in space, with pure-blood Galra prisoners, and Yorak is one of them?”
“Uhm, yes. But the Galra cruisers are three, not just one.”
Shiro groans. “Great.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe I should have done something else. I… was pretty useless.” Thiny looks displeased. Kosmo pushes its head against his chest: he lowers his head and rubs his fur.
“Thiny, listen carefully to me,” Shiro says. “I’ll take care of the situation outside Daibazaal, but you have to do something for me.”
“Okay,” he nods.
“Good. You need to go to a person named Acxa. It’s a Blade. Show her the knife and tell her I send you. Kosmo knows where to go.”
“She’s… a half-blood?” Thiny asks. “She is.”
“She’s Yorak’s friend, she’s on our side. I know that for certain.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods.
“Tell her everything you know, everything you told me, and that the Paladins are taking care of the cruisers. She needs to check the situation in Daibazaal for us.”
“You… you will save them? My parents?” Thiny looks almost surprised.
“We will.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you. I mean, with all the Red Paladin and everything-” he stops, as he fears he said the wrong thing.
“Go,” Shiro suggest. “It’s dangerous for you to remain in the same place for too long.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go.”
Thiny looks around to check there isn’t anyone else before interrupting the call. Shiro takes a doboshes to calm down, then he goes out from the private room and put the glasses back. He returns on Room #3 and the other immediately stop their conversation.
“Everything okay?” Allura asks. Shiro nods.
“So, what are we going to do with that secret base we just discovered?” Lance asks. “We all different opinions here, what’s yours?”
“We’re going to attack it to free all the prisoners, and we’re going to do it immediately,” Shiro answers. “I’ll ask Veronica to set up the route for the asteroid, but to be faster we’ll take the MFE to get there.”
The others look at him with wide eyes. “We… should reflect about it,” Allura murmurs. “I don’t like the idea of the prisoners as much as you, but as a Queen of Altea and as a Paladins, we should be careful about interfere in other planet’s government…”
“Three Galra cruisers full of pure-blood Galra prisoners just departed from Daibazaal, and Keith is there with them too,” Shiro replies. “I’m not waiting a tickle.”
“Wait, you know?” Pidge asks. “How… but of course you do. Secret source my ass.”
Shiro shots her a glare “You’re the one talking.”
“He told me to not tell you! He pleaded me!” she replies. “And then he went and told you too without even warning me because, of course, you are you.” He crosses her arms, angry. “I hate you two, and Keith a little more.”
“Uhm, guys… what am I missing?” Hunk murmurs. “Because you’re talking as Keith is… well, alive, and we… kinda went to his funeral, so… is it?”
“Keith is alive! Of course he is!” Lance exclaims, throwing his hand in air. “He was, like, playing spy alone on Daibazaal when everyone else think he’s dead?” Shiro and Pidge’s silence is pretty loud. “I can’t believe it. No, wait, I do believe it from Keith’s part, and I’m gonna shit on him for this stunt, but you two. I can’t believe you know and you don’t tell us anything. You let me cry for him!”
Pidge licks her lips. “To be fair honest, I found out only after the funeral, and you already cried then so…”
“That’s not the point!”
“Shiro,” Allura calls, and she is deadly serious. “Are you telling us that Keith is alive, and he’s currently prisoner in one of the cruisers that is probably direct to the secret prison of that asteroid?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Shiro sighs. “Guys, I’m sorry, I know both Keith and I owe you an explanation-”
Allura cuts him. “We need to attack that base immediately.”
***
The experience with Grogs gave Keith an important lesson.
He may not have a lion anymore, but he still has his bayard. And not wearing the paladin armor anymore doesn’t mean he can’t have the same technology that allow him to bring the bayard along in his new clothes. That’s the reason he asked Pidge to put that technology in the suit to disguise him as a pure blood.
And this is the reason why Keith, there in the isolate cell Masira locked him up, manages to free himself by all the restraints with his sword.
To be fair, it hasn’t been an easy job. The blade of his bayard is sharp, so he cuts the metal of the cuff like butter, but moving it with the hand tied up behind the back without cutting off an arm in the process requires some contortionist skills.
But now, Keith is free. He takes off the muzzle with relief, and rubs his face where the metal edge pressed more, as he looks better around. The cell is a quadrate room that would allow maximum four people inside, with no camera to check inside. The door is a metal sliding one, and no windows.
Keith knows the cruiser launched, and it’s okay. From the space, communications may be slower. Keith hopes he can act without Voran or anyone else being informed. And from the cruiser, finding out the route should be easy. With luck, Thiny contacts Shiro so the Paladins are informed about what the Duaces are up on.
The sword cuts the edges of metal door with ease. Keith hide back his bayard in his suit before kicking the door to make it falls and going out from his cell. The hallway outside is just like Keith remembers from the times he got caught by the empire: thin, with low purple light, and cell from both side.
Those cells, though, are empty. Keith frowns, since he saw with his own eyes when the prisoners were boarded. He needs to search for them.
There are cameras in the hallway, so Keith uses his knowledge of the imperial cruiser to avoid them using the air conduct. Not the most comfortable solution, but it does the job. Once he reaches the part it should be the main core of the ship, it realizes the architecture of the cruiser had some changes.
Instead of small, different floor, it’s cut on the center, creating an empty space in the middle that look like a ravine. In this manner, they save the space usually reserved to the thick metal walls, and they constructed there the new cells. They transformed a functional war cruiser into a slavery transport ship.
Only the ground of the cells is made of metal: the four walls and the ceiling are actually camp of energy: less safe, but cheaper. The cells are subdivided in three row and four columns, connected one to another by stairs and railing. From his position, Keith notices every cells contain six people, all pure-blood Galra. They are all adults and male, so Keith guesses they were divided by age and gender between the three cruisers.
There is a general air or resignation in the behavior of the prisoners. Keith can understand them: after years of war, they were told they could be forgiven, they could start again. And instead, their punishment arrives, and they act as they deserve it, for being part of an empire that conquered all the universe in the past.
Keith looks around, but he sees no cameras. It’s strange, but not impossible: the fact that the cells don’t have fixed walls makes difficult to plan cameras around, and the magnetic camp has usually his own security system. Keith feels enough safe to climb the first row of stairs and walks slowly in the railing.
His presence stirs the attention of everyone. The prisoners look at him in awe, they lift up, they whisper. Someone calls for him, someone insult him believing it’s an accomplice. Keith is just horrified by the situation.
“Yorak! Yorak!”
Keith blinks. He turns his head around and, three cells in front of him, he sees Rhayn, calling for him, his hand placed on the magnetic camp. The people in his cell observe the situation, uncertain. Keith moves forwards and reaches for him.
“It’s really you,” Rhayn comments, with a relieved smile. “I… How do you get out of your cell?”
Keith doesn’t answer. “I was told you were arrested because… I spoke with Thiny.”
“Oh.” Rahyn nods. “Well, it seems he’s not the reason I ended up here…” And he gestures at his comrades in his cell.
“Hey, can you get us out of here?” one of them ask.
“Do you know where they are bringing us?” another says.
“And why?”
The whispers around him increase and for Keith becomes difficult understand the words of the people in front of him. Of course his first instinct is to open those damn cells and let everyone out, but first he needs to assure the member of the crew realize how incredibly wrong the entire situation is.
“Stop right where you are!”
Despite the buzz, the order arrives clear at Keith’s ears, because the person that spoke is outside the cells. Keith sees robot sentinels climbing the stairs from both side, cornering him on the railing. Outside, on the ground floor, Masira stands, gun in her hand, other sentinels at her sides.
Keith leans on the railing. “Masira.”
“How do you…” she startles, but she’s fast to regain her composure. “I don’t know how do you manage to get out your cell, but I’ll find out and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again. Now surrender.”
“We need to talk,” he says. He shot a looks around: three sentinels on his right, three on his left. He can take them down if he needs.
“No, we don’t. Voran warned me about you. I guess you can’t become the leader of a terroristic group if you don’t have some persuasive ability. They won’t work on me.”
“Voran lied to you. He lied to everyone.”
There is some complains around, by the people that met Voran as he disguised himself as a pure-blood. Apparently, words about him being actually the head of the blade are spreading.
“And I should trust you more because…?” she smirks.
“You don’t trust me because I’m pure-blood, and you trusted him because he’s half-blood,” Keith retorts. “Don’t you realize how utterly stupid is it?”
“Second warning,” she replies. “Surrender or I won’t guarantee your safety.”
“Masira, I know,” Keith continues. “I know how you were treated back in the empire, how you all half-Galra are considered inferior, how much it pained you, and how much better you felt after the war is over.”
“You don’t know shit about me!”
“And now look at you, Masira. You took all those people prisoners because… they’re pure blood? That’s your reason? Don’t you fell the hypocrisy?”
“They still hate us half-Galra. Nothing chance, except the fact we can fight back now. For the Red Paladin.”
“And this is what the Red Paladin wants? What Keith wants? You know him, Masira, you worked with him! Don’t he-”
She cuts him. “Don’t you dare speak about him. You killed him! You all hated him because he was like us and not like you!”
Complains erupt from all the cells. Keith realized, in the small amount of time he passed undercover, that aren’t only half-Galra that appreciate the Red Paladin. It warms Keith’s heart to know he helped so many people to feel better, and he won’t let them using his name to hurt those people.
“We don’t,” he says. “Voran lies to you. The Duaces killed Keith and then pinned their crime to the pure-bloods. They hoped you and the other half-Galra would start to hate the pure-bloods. Do not fall for their trap.”
Keith’s accusation make all the cells become quiet. The gaze of everyone is on him, eyes wide. Masira releases a small laugh.
“This is utter ridiculous and I have enough. Shot him!”
The railing is small, so the sentinels are one after another. Keith jumps on the right as they start shooting, so the first two shot themselves instead. Keith lands on the second on the right, making it fell on the ground, as he disarmed the third one. He takes its gun, as he lowers down so he let another gunshot hit the third one on the right for him. Then, he shots the last two sentinels on the left.
He throws away the gun and jumps from the railing, sword in his arm. He lands right in front of Masira and cuts her gun before turning his attention to the remaining sentinels: defeating the sentinels now that he has a weapon is easy. Once he thrusts his sword in the chest of the last one, he turns his attention to Masira, that stands here, eyes filled with horror.
He lifts his sword and cuts off from his clothes the plaque with the switch. As the plaque falls to the ground with a ring sound, the suit, without the turning power, fades and reveals Keith’s true appearance. He returns the bayard back in his clothes.
He can heart the collective gasp around him, and the way Masira opens her mouth, unable to make a sound.
“I owe you an apology, Masira,” he says. “I know there was a big conspiracy on Daibazaal the day they tried to kill me, and I was hoping to find out. I’m late, but maybe not by much.”
“You’re… not real…” she murmurs, but she doesn’t believe her word. She saw the bayard, she knows his fighting style.
“The Sincline Force do not exist,” Keith continues. “The Duaces and the group working with them made you believe so, using my death to turn you against pure blood Galra. Then, they made laws and laws to enrage pure-blood too. And this is the result.”
He widens his arm, to show the destroyed robot sentinels and the cells all around him, where all the prisoners are now standing still, trying to pry as much as they can at them from below.
“But even if some of them would have been the culprit… can you look at me and tell me this is right? Erasing an entire race just because? You know who did that before? Zarkon.”
Masira isn’t looking at him. “We aren’t erasing… it’s just a precaution to…” Her excuse is weak. He kicks the arm of a robot sentinel at his feet.
“Building it it’s illegal, by the rules of the peace treaty. Yet they’re doing it again.”
“Just for this. We need a little help just for this…”
“Who’s gonna be next?” Keith asks. “Half-Galra who look not so Galra? Or that look too much Galra? Who are next, Masira?” He looks at her, at her black fur and her white eyes, and her long ears turned around her long neck. She’s tall, even for a Galra. “Please, do the right thing.”
“I thought this was the right thing,” she comments, and she sounds tired.
She lifts her arm and touches the control bracelet at her wrist. For an instant, Keith fears she’s asking for more help, and he’s ready to take off his bayard again. Instead, the magnetic camp of all cells trembles and then fades. The prisoners are free. Masira slumps on the floor. There is an unnatural silence around them.
“I thought this was the right thing,” Masira repeats. “I got orders. The Duaces spoke for us, it was nice for once… to be represented. And then you, well, apparently not, but you died and we… We were so angry we can’t have something for us, for once…”
“I’m sorry,” Keith says.
The not-prisoners-anymore starts to move. Now there is buzz around, people talking with each other with low voices, as they were afraid to being discovered. They climb down the stairs, they look at each other, and slowly they gather around Keith and Masira.
Keith moves a little nearer Masira, shielding her. She looks paralyzed, a little afraid, and she swallows. He passes his gaze on the group, severe, as to dare them to make a move. When one of them eyeing too much at one of the gun at the floor, Keith stares at him, daring him to take that gun.
“I’m here to stop this civil war,” he warns. “Anyone here that disagree?”
The man doesn’t take the gun, but the one next to him speaks, “is it true what you said, Yorak?” It’s the bartender from the Witch’s den. “That the Duaces are all behind this, that there isn’t any Sincline Force group?”
“I don’t have any proof but my own testimony, but yes,” Keith nods. “They’re the culprits, and they have accomplices around the ranks. I myself had been fooling by their trick, and I spent too much time investigating for pure-blood. Once I discovered the truth, it was late. I’m sorry for this. But I won’t let them destroy what you’re building up in Daibazaal as long as I can still fight.”
His words are clear, despite all the whispers. The bartender nods. “What we can do?”
“Where are we heading?” Keith asks to Masira.
She slowly stands up. “A prison, build in a safe asteroid. I don’t know much, I’ve never been there.”
“How many crew there is on board?”
“Three more, all Blades. They’re on the bridge right now, or at least is where I left them.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
They move. Masira first, leading the way, then Keith just a step behind her. The others follow, like a procession. She opens the door of the bridge and one of the Blades turns on her.
“You took long-” but he stops as he sees the Galra behind her, and this lures the attention of the other two. Keith ignores them and reaches for the control panel, moving aside one of the Blades. They blink at him, and stare, mouths open, as they just see a ghost. They did, in a way. He cuts off the communications and looks at the coordinate before stopping the engine.
“Okay,” comments one of the Blades. “What. The. Hell.”
“Masira will fill you up,” Keith comments, briefly. “Listen up: Voran knows I know, and that the Paladins know. He talked about speeding up their plan or something like that. Whoever it is, it won’t be nice. So he doesn’t need to know this.” He gestures at the Galra group. “Do not communicate with the Spaceport, or with anyone, you may be intercepted.” He turns his head to Masira. “You have the small fighter pods on board?”
“A couple, yes, they’re in the upper hangar, a floor above the prison.”
Keith nods. “For now, just stay put. I’ll send someone to pick you up as soon as possible.” Even if he told Thiny to call for Shiro, he can’t be sure he manages to do so, and to avoid the interceptions, he can’t contact the Atlas from here. He moves to return back to the hallway, and the group, although unsure, move on the two side to let him pass.
“Wait! What are you going to do?” Masira asks. Her three colleagues are still looking at her, and the entire situation is so fast and so strange they aren’t able to react.
“There are other two cruisers out there with prisoners. I’m going to free them too.”
He doesn’t even turn his back as he walks away. He’s sure the cruiser he’s in was the first to launch, but the other two can’t be too far away, and they may notice something’s off, so he needs to act fast, and hopes to meet people as Masira on board. He will try to contact the Atlas from the pod, once it’s safe.
“Yorak!” He’s about to jump on the pod, when a voice calls him. Rhayn. “Oh, well, I suppose this isn’t your name anymore, uh…”
“What is it?” Keith says. He may sound rude, but he still feels a little guilt towards Rhayn especially.
Rhayn looks embarrassed. “You may use an engineer on the pod. You may never know.”
He doesn’t need one. He’s used to fly alone, and during a war. And he has enough knowledge to check the engine by himself. But he nods at Rhayn to jump on, and smiles.
“I’m Keith.”
***
After being a prisoner for almost a year, Shiro thinks he was used to see this kind of situation. In the arena’s prisons, the gladiators are kept in small cells, all together, with very few space for themselves. They would die soon enough, and they’d free the space. That’s the reason Shiro has a personal cell for himself: he was the only one to survive.
Still, he was affected by the sight of all the pure blood Galra kept there, and how lost they look.
Judging by Allura’s reaction, he isn’t the only one. He sees her leaving the control room of the prison, where Pidge is trying to extract some data from the database, and he follows her. Allura stops at the entrance of the prison and her gaze wanders on all the Galra in the courtyard in front of the building. They’re enjoying their found freedom, and Krolia and Kolivan are talking with them, to reassure them and to understand their part of the story.
“You okay?” Shiro asks.
She nods slowly. “I hated the Galra for a long time. A part of me still hate them, even if I know I can’t blame all of them,” she murmurs. “But seeing them… like that…” She means, closed in those small cells with almost no air to breath. “It made me so angry. This isn’t fair. At all.”
Shiro nods. “That’s very mature for you, princess.”
Allura glares at him and at his smirk. He doesn’t forget the way she treated Keith once, and neither does she. “I’m a queen, now,” she remembers him, with a smile.
Kolivan notices them on the door and reaches for them. “Did you find something?”
“Pidge’s still checking the database. The guards don’t talk,” Shiro answers. They are part of the Daibazaal Army, not the Blades, so Kolivan can’t say to know them enough to have them trust him.
“There are five people missing,” he says.
“What do you mean, missing?” Allura frowns.
“Five people that were captures with some of the others,” Kolivan explains. “By their comments, they were removed from their cells without a reason. They’re not in the group outside, so we don’t know their location.”
Allura presses her lips together. She doesn’t like it, because Pidge hasn’t detected any more human being in the building, which led to one bad conclusion.
“Let’s see if Pidge found something more,” Shiro proposes. “And we’ll try to ask again at the guards.”
“Lance said he’s an expert about interrogating a prisoner,” Allura says, as she follows back inside the building.
“Being a fan of crime movies doesn’t make one an expert,” Shiro replies, even if he has to admit he wouldn’t mind Lance trying.
Pidge is still in the same position, sitting in the ground with her computer on her knees, the screen full of incomprehensible numbers and names. Allura and Shiro peek on her shoulder, and even if she notices them she doesn’t turn.
“I’m still searching,” she says. “They cancelled some old data I’m retrieving.”
“So, no news for now.” Shiro sounds disappointed.
“Not exactly,” Pidge replies. “I already retrieve the communications… There are a couple from the space port of Daibazaal, that announces the arrival of the next loaded. I guess they meant the three cruisers that Thiny warned us about.”
“That’s probably it,” Allura agrees, and Shiro doesn’t miss the slight frown at calling people ‘loaded’.
“There is another strange message,” Pidge continues. “It comes from a space ship, one that isn’t listed in the official records. It only says something about bringing a cargo sooner because they had to move forwards the operation.”
“Which operation?” Shiro asks.
“They didn’t talk about it. Just that they aren’t ready yet but some circumstances force them to move their schedule.”
“It doesn’t sound good,” Allura comments, and Shiro agrees.
“No,” Pidge admits. “Also… I made a crossed researches, and I found out that the guards here were also part of the crew of the cruisers that attacked the space pirates. You know, in order to kill Keith. Again.”
Allura crosses her arm. “Of course. They’re part of this scheme since the very beginning. It all started from Keith’s… death. Maybe Keith took the wrong decision, remaining dead for so long.”
“Or maybe next time they would have managed to kill him for real,” Pidge replies.
“Well, what I know now,” Shiro interrupts the discussion, “it’s that I really need to have a little chat with them.”
Pidge and Allura nods and go with him in the next room, where they locked up the guards. Five of them are still unconscious because of the fight against the Paladins, while other three sit down on the corner, hands and feet tied up: under Lance’s alerted gaze, they don’t talk, just look at each other from time to time.
“Where’s Hunk?” Shiro asks.
“Examining the planimetry of the building, I found a strange area. Hunk is checking on it,” Pidge explains.
Lance reserved a happy smile at Shiro. “Interrogation time?”
Shiro shot him an amused smile, before putting on a hard expression. He stands in front of the still awake guards, that try to pretend the presence of the Black Paladin, Admiral of the Atlas, don’t bother them.
“We know you killed Keith – the Red Paladin,” he says. “It’s better you start talking now, because there is no way you’ll be forgive by the entire universe.”
They try to hide their surprise under an indifferent mask, but it’s clear the news isn’t expected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” one of them says. “We would never hurt the Red Paladin. We’re working here. We were ordered to be here.”
“Yeah,” adds another, “and this is gonna cause a diplomatic incident, that’s for sure.”
Allura stiffs a second behind Shiro, still she doesn’t talk. “Fine,” Shiro says, “if it’s just work, then you can answer about it. Five of your prisoners are missing. Where are they?”
The three half-Galra look at each other. “Dunno,” says one of them, at last. “We haven’t been there since the beginning, you know.”
“That’s a lie,” Pidge replies. “There aren’t records of other employees here but you.”
The half-galra doesn’t look impressed. “Then look in the records for finding those mysterious five people.”
“Oh, I will!”
Before Shiro can ask about the cargo that was send earlier than scheduled, Hunk knock at the door. “I may have an idea about the missing people.”
They all leave the room, Lance includes, and closes the door behind them. Hunk looks pale. And angry, even if he’s trying to control himself. It’s unusual for him.
“The room you asked me to check?” Hunk says to Pidge. “It’s a scientific lab, and a morgue. There are five bodies there, in the frozen cell.”
“They are being experimented?” Allura doesn’t sound surprised at all. Shiro was experimented too, this kind of cruelty is almost usual for them.
Hunk nods. “I’m not sure, though, because in the lab there isn’t any records, or any sample left.”
“Destroyed?”
“No, I think they’re transported away. The lab doesn’t look very advanced.”
“Like they have another base, or something, when they sent the sample to be analyzed?” Lance asks.
“Something like that,” Hunk confirms. “I mean, in pharmaceutics researches, you have the guinea pig in the same lab where you study, but the lab here doesn’t look big enough for a scientific research. It’s strange.”
“I mean, it made sense,” Allura comments. “This prison has been building over a wrecked prison from Zarkon’s empire, probably an old working camp or something.”
“Working camp,” Pidge confirms. “There are mines on this asteroid.”
“So this wasn’t a scientific building, and they don’t have the time and the resource to build one,” Allura concludes. “They may be used another abandoned Galra facility for their research.”
“Then why do not move the prison there?” Lance asks. “Wouldn’t be easier having the prisoners there?”
“Yes, but maybe the researches facility doesn’t have enough space, or got some major damages that make impossible to create a prison area inside in a short amount of time. The civil war went hard in this area of the universe.”
“We are in the Rainveig sector,” Pidge exhales. “And he does some scientific researches with quintessence.”
“Even so, if they experimented on human here, there has to been some records. Pidge, you have to find it,” Shiro comments.
“I will,” she assures him, and she rushes back in the control room. Her computer is still working, and she returns to it, tapping the screen furiously. The other stands behind her, waiting patiently.
“My God…” she exhales, at least, when she stops clicking on the screen.
“What? What is it?” Lance asks, worried.
“The records are corrupted, I didn’t manage to retrieve all of them,” she answers. “But… they’re talking about a gas. A poison gas. One that was supposed to kill all the pure blood Galra.”
Hunk pales. “And it’s here? Like, right now? Because there are plenty of pure blood Galra out there.”
“No, it’s not here,” Shiro states, “but it’s coming. This is the cargo they’re talking in the last communication.”
Allura understands. “They’re reunited all the pure blood Galra here to kill them all in a single move. With the three cruisers incoming…”
“We need to bring all them out of here now,” Shiro declares. “And we need to catch those cruisers before they come here.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but he strolls outside. He ignores the stare of the galra in the courtyard and heads to the main gate of the prison. To be faster, they got to the asteroid with two MFE, while the Atlas would come later on, at its own speed.
One MFE, the one Rizavi’s piloting, is flying in the outer atmosphere to patrol the area, while the other is parked just outside the prison’s wall. Shiro is about to reach it, but Griffin gets out from it and runs in his direction. He has a strange expression on his face, a mixture of awe and relief.
“I got an incoming call,” he announces, in the most informal way, once he’s in front of Shiro. “It’s Keith!”
***
When James told Keith he’s transferred the call to Shiro, he doesn’t expect all the Paladins and his mother being there too. He hopes to have a little more time to prepare himself at their inevitable distress.
Allura puts up her mask as queen, but she can’t hide her slight frown. Hunk is on the verge of tears, and Lance opens and closes his mouth, as he’s trying to find something smart to say. And his mother, his mother! Her expression is a strange mixture: disappointment, sure, as if Keith did it in order to make her pay for her abandonment (he didn’t), but for the same reason there is also understanding and relief.
Keith is glad that at least Shiro knows about it: he couldn’t face all of them, Shiro included, all together. But, as usual, he has more pressing matter.
“Hi, guys. James told me you cleared the prison.”
Shiro nods. “We were warned by Thiny about what was happened in Daibazaal so we had to move fast.”
Oh, Thiny. So he managed to escape and call Shiro as Keith asked him. Keith is relieved.
“About that!” Now Hunk is crying. “We’re told you were captured and in danger!”
“Yeah,” Lance adds. “Do you free yourself all alone? You can’t just let us playing hero, can’t you?” He’s joking, and Keith can’t help but smirk at it.
“Basically, yes,” Keith says. “I have no idea where the cruisers are going to and I couldn’t know you discover it, so I have to go with them.”
“Where are the cruisers now?” Shiro asks.
“We managed to speak with the Blades and let them understand how wrong everything is,” Keith explains. “Now they closed their communications system and stopped their cruised, while we try to understand better the situation.”
“Good.” Shiro nods. “Because the situation is dangerous here. We just discovered the Sincline Force had poison gas and they probably want to release it here.”
Keith freezes. Rhayn, who sits down in the copilot seat, jumps still and reaches the screen, a hand places on Keith’s seat. “Holy Zela!”
The attention of everyone switch on him. “Who are you?” Lance frowns.
“A friend,” Keith cuts the discussion. “Are you sure about it?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Pidge explains to him all the records the find in the database and the morgue Hunk explores, alongside their deductions about it, and the fact that the guards of the prison are coincidentally the same that tried to kill him in the past. At that mention, Rhayn releases a small sigh.
“The Atlas is coming, we’re bringing everyone out of here,” Shiro concludes.
“This is it. The plan Voran was talking about.” Keith grits his teeth. “He said something about Fixi, she’s probably the one taking the gas there. They didn’t plan to use the gas so soon, not before everyone else is set in the prison, but my presence was too dangerous for them.”
“Yeah, and Kolivan too,” Shiro adds. “They kidnapped him for a reason, and then we saved him and they have no idea what our plan was with him, so they had to act faster.”
“This means they’re made mistakes too,” Allura comments. She looks distressed.
“Okay, I’m reaching your location right now. Bring everyone on the Atlas, and then we’ll turn back to the three cruisers.”
“Since when you became the Captain of Atlas too?” Lance muses, while Shiro nods.
“It’s just the most reasonable plan,” Keith defends himself.
“Sure, sure, just do not let anyone catch you again.”
Keith turns down the call with a sigh. As he guessed, speaking with them was tiresome. He can’t hide his guilt about his fake death, not to them, or not for long.
“I hope Fixi is going to the prison and not to the cruisers, or they’ll be sitting ducks.”
Rhayn sits down again in his seat. “In the void it’s too dangerous, from an engineering point of view, especially if you don’t plan it perfectly. I’m sure they’re heading to the prison.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
They navigate in silence, both of them looking at their scan in the attempt to intercept Fixi’s ship somehow. The absence of it is at the same time a good and a bad thing. Only when the big gassed planet become visible, their devices signal something to them.
There is the Atlas, of course, entering in the solar system in that moment, but also the radar points something from the inside of the planet. In the same way Keith escaped with Lorne, there is something hiding inside the gas, and heading with speed to the asteroid.
Keith follows the trance and accelerates the pod so they are below the ship once it emerges from the gassed planet. “It’s an imperial fighter,” Rhayn recognizes it, and his tone means it isn’t a positive thing. Keith opens the communication system.
“This is… the Red Paladin,” he hesitates a little. “Please identify yourselves.”
No answers come through the communication system, but the fighter starts shooting in their direction, not moving by their course towards the asteroids. Keith presses the consol and the pod slips through the lasers, slaloming in the space.
“It’s them. We should call the Paladins?” Rhayn asks.
“No time,” Keith replies. “The Atlas still has to land, which means they would be busy putting everyone else on board. Put your helmet on.”
Rhayn obeys, as Keith puts on his mask, since Pidge created the suit with the same ability of the Blades’ ones. “What you have in mind?”
“Stop that ship on the inside.”
Still avoiding the laser, Keith maneuvers the pod nearer the fighter and then makes him smash against the tail, with enough speed to ruin the pod but not enough to destroy it entirely. The presence of the tail stucks the pod in place, so Keith and Rhayn can get out and then grab the tail to remain on the surface of the fighter.
“There is something dangerous below us?” Keith asks.
“Except the entire fighter and the crew on board that want to kill us?” Rhayn replies. “No, the engine is lower, from here we should land on the air conduct. But if we damage the tail it could be a problem.”
Keith nods. He extracts his bayard and turns it into a bazooka, with Rhayn’s surprise. He shots at the metal enough distanced from the tail and opens a hole in it, so they slip inside the fighter and rushes in the hallway to distance themselves that the hole.
Their presence is identified, and Keith himself knows they can’t hide for long, so they are ready when the robot sentinel appears from a corner and start shooting at them. They shield themselves against a wall. Keith has his sword in hand.
“Can you cover me?” he asks to Rhayn, who has one of the sentinel gun they stole from the cruisers.
“Sure,” he nods, and then he moves a little and shots.
Keith jumps forwards and let his swords slicing thought the metal of the robot sentinels, using the first ones as shield against the ones behind as he lowers down and slices their legs. He ears Rhayn screaming, but he can’t turn before defeating all the sentinels, so he turns back his bayard in the bazooka and shots three blows, aiming high in the hope to not hit something dangerous.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he rushes back to Rhayn.
He nods and accepts Keith’s hand to stand up. “I’m fine, they just scratched my helmet.” That is now broken on the lower part. “Let’s go on, the control room should be below, and stairs should be in that direction.”
They open the door to reach them and they are welcomed from another shooting. No sentinels this time, only a person. “Vormor…” Rhayn realizes, in a whisper. She was one of the people that kidnapped Kolivan and faked their dead in the process. Keith is about to jump from the railing to fight her, but Rhayn stops him.
“I want to speak with her.”
“She framed you,” Keith remembers him. “She placed you as a communicator office so my death would fall on you if everything came out.”
“I know. But maybe… I can try.”
Rhayn’s expression isn’t sure, but determinate. Keith nods. He lets Rhayn climbs the stairs slowly, his gun still in his hand, but his hands are lifted in the air.
“We can fix it, Vormor. We’re still in time,” Rhayn says.
“No,” Vormor answers. “We’re out of time.”
Rhayn shakes his head. “All this… Everything… is wrong. We were colleagues. Comrades. We still have time to fix it.”
“There is only a way to fix it. All of you must die.”
She’s about to shot, but Keith is faster and threw his sword at her. The sword pierces her shoulder and she lets the gun falls. Rhayn rushes towards her and kick the gun away.
She looks at him in anger. “Kill me.” When Rhayn makes no sign to move, she throw herself at him and, this time, he shots to defend himself. When Keith reaches them, Rhayn already extracted the sword from the body and gives it back to Keith.
“Let’s go,” Rhayn says, and there is regret in his tone.
There aren’t other sentinels to stop them before they reach the control room. The door is locked, but Keith’s sword slices it in half. Fixi and Xunul are there, so busy with the control panel that barely register their presence.
“Stop,” Rhayn intimates, and Xunul turns. She moves to take her gun, but Keith is faster and kicks her on the side. She hit the wall on the right side of the door and she slumps on the floor, still.
“Too late,” Fixi says. She still is next to the panel. Rhayn shots next to her, destroying a piece of the control panel. She smiles. “You should have aim at me.” And then she presses a button on the control panel.
The fighter accelerates suddenly, and all three of them are caught off guard and they lose their balance. Keith flies in the room and smash his back against the glass of the window, but he’s fast enough to collect himself and places in front of the control panel. Everything is red and everything beep dangerously, as the fighter keeps accelerating, heading towards the asteroid.
“What is happening?”
Rhayn is at his side. “She activated the self-destruction procedure.” There is panic in his voice. “Some fighters have this possibly to force the course in order to turn it into a kind of missile, if the pilot is in some way compromised. So the fighter himself turns into a weapon and can aim to a sensible objective. We’re going to crash to the asteroid.”
“There should be a way to stop it!”
“There are still the manual command.” Rhayn presses some button and another console appears. “But you still can’t control the speed of the engine, or turn it off. At this rate, we’re almost in the atmosphere and there is no way to avoid the crash.”
“Maybe. But I can land ourselves into safety.” Keith places himself at the control and takes them.
Fixi chuckles. She hits hard her back and her head and she emits a small moan of pain as she tries to put herself in a sitting position, against the wall. She looks too much in pain to attack them.
“It’s too late,” she comments.
“This is the Red Paladin!” Rhayn replies, and this time there isn’t pity for his former colleagues. “His piloting skills…”
“I know them. I saw them. They’re beautiful.” At Fixi’s words, Keith thinks there too much flattering from a person that actively tried to kill him. “He can land this fighter safely, but then you’ll die of gas poisoning.”
“What?” Both Keith and Rhayn freeze.
“I activated the gas tank. It’ll start spreading the gas soon enough. So we crash and the tank explodes, or we don’t crash and the tank release the gas. Either way, all the pure blood Galra still on the asteroid will die.”
“Not if I manage to stop the release,” Rhayn says.
“It’s too dangerous. The gas-” Keith starts.
“We don’t have many choices,” Rhayn replies. “I can’t pilot like you, and if we crash stopping the tank will be useless. So you have to pilot us to safety and I’ll stop the tank.”
Keith grits his teeth. “Fine.”
He isn’t happy with the outcome, but Rhayn is right. And they don’t have much time, the fighter is already in the atmosphere, so Keith turns his attention to the command. He sees the Atlas landing in the distance and sends a message to the MFEs to not shoot at the fighter. He doesn’t want to die, and he doesn’t want the gar spreading too.
“You know the fun part?” Fixi says, a sweet smile on his lips. “Rainveig invented the gas first. It was supposed to kill all the not Galra, so we can just… destroy entire planet with it. It turns that it kills also half Galra in the process. He didn’t care. He still gave the order to use it well-knowing some of us would die. And they did. I lost friends those days… we’re grateful the empire fell before Rainveig can use it again, and we hid the formula to the other warlords. It’s only fitting we turn the same gas against the pure blood.”
Keith doesn’t look at her as she speaks, too focus on piloting the fighter.
“We’re trying to defend ourselves, at first,” she continues. “Then Voltron arrived and everything magically turned okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t… The Galra have been around for too much, hurt too many people… We started to think how to kill everyone. The gas would be so perfect, killing all the pure blood of Daibazaal in a swift…”
Keith freezes, and for a second he loses the control of the fighter. It’s almost on the ground, and the fighter needs to land gently. He grits his teeth, trying not to imagine what could have happened if they send for real that gas on Daibazaal.
“But Farux said no. He said he can do that peacefully, so we’ll be different from the warlord. That you, the Red Paladin, the leader of Voltron, are one of us. That you’ll be on our side.” Her tone is gentle in the beginning, now it starts to hardener. “But you weren’t… You aren’t…”
“So you killed me,” Keith states. She ignores it, so he adds, “and then you kidnapped Kolivan.”
“Yes.” Now her fangs are showing, white flashing in contrast of her brown skin. “Kolivan should be the start. Pure blood would riot, and we’ll find someone stupid enough to try and use the gas, not knowing it would kill only the pure blood. But then the Paladins,” she spits the word, “ruined everything, and we went to a more… direct approach.”
“Locking up everyone and kill them?”
“Yes.” She’s feral. “My only regret is that only few of them will die.”
“No one will die,” Keith answers, as the fighters slips on the sand ground of the asteroid. It runs for few meters, but it didn’t crash.
“It doesn’t matter! The gas already-!”
He doesn’t listen while she yells at him; he leaves the controls and rushes back, looking for Rhayn. He finds him to the hallway, as he stumbles against the wall.
“I did it,” he whispers. “I stop the tank.”
“Are you okay?” Keith asks, as he helps him remaining upright.
“I’m not sure…” he answers. “I inhaled it. The gas. Not for much. I sealed the door…”
He faints before he can say more. Keith takes a deep breath. He grabs him and tackles him on his shoulder. It isn’t easy walking with that weight, but Keith still gets off the fighter and starts walking towards the prison, that doesn’t seem too far from his landing spot.
The Paladins are too fast, and they reach for him mid-road. “My God, Keith, are you okay?” Hunk asks, as Keith slowly places Rhayn on the ground.
“Allura,” he calls. “He inhaled some poisoned gas. He needs a healing pod now, but there is something you can do in the meantime?”
She’s already kneeled down next to him. “Well, I’m not sure my powers work against poisoning…”
He doesn’t wait for a better answer. “Pidge, Hunk, there is a tank of gas poisoning inside. Rhayn blocks it, but I need you two to deactivate it definitely. And studying it for finding an antidote. There also two members of the Sincline Force inside. Lance, can you please contain them?”
Lance shrugs. “He just resurrects and he’s already giving us orders. So bossy.”
But none of them actually complain about them, on the contrary they activate themselves to fulfill it. Keith turns his attention to Shiro for the first time. He leaves Rhayn in Allura’s care and moves towards him.
“Are everyone else safe on the Atlas?” he asks.
Shiro nods barely. His eyes are fixed on Keith. He doesn’t speak.
He just hugs him tightly. -
.
29 Settembre, ore 10:00
Studio legale Wright & Co
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Pealr)
(Scenografia: ufficio, scrivania piena di montagne di fogli e documenti)
(Situazione: Phoenix seduto alla scrivania, Maya e Pearl di fronte a lui, tutti i personaggi hanno un’espressione di intensa concentrazione)
Phoenix Wright: Okay, statemi a sentire. Abbiamo assolutamente bisogno di un caso. Un caso normale, non più dove mi capiti di interrogare pappagalli, o trasmettitori radio, o spiriti morti…
Maya (sorridendo): Ma se non altro, nei tuoi casi non ci si annoia mai, Nick!
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Ma non si pagano nemmeno le bollette…
(Inizio scena flashback)
(Scenografia: tutte le luci spente, Pearl legge un libro a lume di candela)
(Phoenix entra nella stanza)
Phoenix Wright: che è successo?
Pearl: non so, ad un certo punto non funzionava più niente
(Phoenix rovista nella montagna di fogli sulla scrivania.
Estrae un foglio e lo mostra alla telecamera: è la bolletta della luce, non pagata)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): spero che la almeno la bolletta del gas non sia nascosta sotto una di queste
(Urlo di Maya fuori scena;
Phoenix, che stava per sedersi sulla sedia, scivola trascinando con sé tutta la roba sulla scrivania)
(rumore di una decina di oggetti che vengono urtati e fatti cadere)
(Maya compare in scena, con l’asciugamano addosso)
Maya: Niiiiiiiiick! È terribile! L’acqua è diventata fredda d’improvviso!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Comincio a pensare di essere messo peggio di Gumshoe…
Maya: Ho un’idea! Che ne dici se io e Pearl provassimo ad evocare qualche spirito, nel caso potesse darci informazione su qualche assassino che non è stato arrestato?
Phoenix Wright: Uhm, meglio di no. Non sempre le vittime conoscono il loro assassino…
Maya (intristendosi): Be’, hai ragione…
Phoenix Wright: Potrei chiamare Iris, magari conosce qualcuno nella prigione che è innocente…
(Qualcuno bussa alla porta.)
Maya (raggiante): Forse è un cliente!
(Maya si alza per andare ad aprire la porta)
(La parete dietro Phoenix crolla come un castello di sabbia)
(Barbabianca appare in scena; grossa alabarda nella sua mano destra, pantaloni, mantello sulle spalle ed una bandana in testa)
(Phoenix cerca di deglutire, Maya si nasconde dietro di lui)
Pearl: caspita, che grosso!
(Barbabianca sorride)
Phoenix Wright (balbettando): V-Vorrei solo dirle… (Maya gli dà un leggero pugno di incoraggiamento sulla spalla) che siamo talmente in bolletta che ci hanno staccato la luce e il gas. Non credo troverà nulla di interessante qui…
Barbabianca: Tu sei Phoenix Wright, l’avvocato difensore?
Phoenix Wright: Uhm, sì… In teoria, sì, sono io…
Barbabianca: Allora sono nel posto giusto. Posso accomodarmi? Ho qualcosa da discutere con te.
Phoenix Wright: Oh, uhm, certo… (Indica la scrivania di Mia, ancora cosparsa di pile di documenti) Prego.
(Barbabianca getta tutto a terra con un dito e si siede sulla scrivania; il legno del tavolo scricchiola sotto il suo peso; è incurvato, la sua testa tocca ancora il soffitto)
Barbabianca: Dovresti mettere un po’ d’ordine in questo posto, ragazzo
Phoenix Wright: Uhm, lei dice..?
Maya (annuendo, sempre dietro la schiena di Phoenix ): Sono perfettamente d’accordo
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Tu dovresti essere quella che si occupa di mettere a posto, io sono l’avvocato..!
Phoenix Wright: Posso, uhm, offrirle qualcosa..?
Del sake andrà benissimo, possibilmente quello del Mare Meridionale.
Maya: Lo vado subito a prendere! esclamò Maya.
Phoenix Wright (sussurrando): A me porta dei calmanti, ti prego. E chiama la marina.
Maya: Sempre che non ci abbiano staccato anche il lumacofono
(Maya lascia la stanza)
Phoenix Wright (assumendo una posa eretta): Allora, di cosa… Ehm… Di cosa ha bisogno?
Barbabianca: Ho sentito parlare di te…
Phoenix Wright: Ah, sì..? (pensando) Perché mai i pirati dovrebbero parlare di me?!
Barbabianca: Si dice che sei un avvocato piuttosto eccentrico, ed i casi che hai risolto sono stati… Particolari, per varie cose…
Phoenix Wright: Ammetto di aver avuto a che fare con cose decisamente strane. Ma sempre per il bene del mio cliente.
Barbabianca: Bene, perché ciò che voglio proporti è tutto fuorché ordinario. Voglio assumerti come avvocato difensore.
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Assumermi?!
(Maya rientra in stanza, con un vassoio con una bottiglia di sake ed una boccetta contenente del valium
Maya; Assumerlo?!
(Phoenix inghiotte la bottiglietta di valium)
Barbabianca: Naturalmente, non sono io il tuo cliente. (Barbabianca afferra la bottiglia e se la scola alla goccia) Devi difendere uno dei miei figli. Il suo nome è Ace. Hai sentito parlare di lui?
Phoenix Wright: S-Sì…
Maya (titubante): E’ quello che è stato arrestato, vero? La davano come una grande notizia sui giornali…
(sbuffando): Ovvio che sì. Non si mettono tutti i giorni le mani su un pirata di quel genere…
Phoenix Wright: Ehm… E da cosa dovrei difenderlo, esattamente?
(accigliandosi): Non ci arrivi? esclamò,
(Maya torna a nascondersi dietro la schiena di Phoenix)
Maya: N-No, mi scusi…
Barbabianca: (sospira): C’è un solo destino per un pirata, una volta che viene arrestato. Una condanna a morte. E sai, non sono il tipo che può starsene buono buonino mentre gli ammazzano un figlio sotto il naso…
Pearl (esclamando): Sono d’accordo con lei! Anch’io farei qualsiasi cosa per salvare la Mistica Maya!
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Ehi, e io invece..?
Barbabianca (sorridendo): Grazie. Se Ace verrà condannato alla pubblica esecuzione, dovrò intervenire. Ci sarà una guerra, e questo comporterà un sacco di morti, da entrambe le parti. Io ho una certa età, e vorrei evitare di trascinare i miei figli in qualcosa di simile…
Phoenix Wright: Quindi..?
Barbabianca: Quello che voglio è che ad Ace sia fatto un processo, che lo dichiari innocente e gli permetta di essere liberato senza colpo ferire. Per questo ho bisogno di un avvocato difensore.
(Silenzio per un breve momento)
Maya (voce tenue): I pirati hanno un processo?
Barbabianca: Ovviamente no. E’ uno dei motivi per cui mi sono rivolto a voi. So che avete amici in procura, non dovrebbe essere così difficile fare un’eccezione se siete voi a chiederlo…
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Forse non ho capito bene…
Phoenix Wright (mormorando): E’ da pazzi…
Barbabianca: Se è per una questione di soldi-
Phoenix Wright: I soldi non c’entrano niente!
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Oddio, in realtà sì, che devo pagare le bollette, ma non è questo il punto del discorso!
Phoenix Wright: Non so che idea abbia lei degli avvocati difensori, ma non può certo pretendere che io vada in tribunale cercando di far assolvere un criminale dichiarato! Non è così che funziona!
(ruggendo): Io credo che invece tu non sappia di cosa stai parlando!”
(Maya torna a nascondersi dietro Phoenix, Pearl trema)
Barbabianca: I marine non vogliono uccidere Ace per quello che è. Vogliono farlo per colpa di suo padre, e per attirare me in una trappola, sfruttando il legame che ci unisce. Questo le sembra giusto?! Lo chieda a Gold Roger, se non ci crede! (prende dei profondi sospiri, voce torna ad un livello normale) Ace è un bravo ragazzo, e non dovrebbe pagare per colpe non sue.
(rumore di esplosione alle mie spalle; una palla di cannone passa a pochi metri da Phoenix, diretta verso Newgate. Lui non si sposta, devia il colpo con un gesto secco della mano; un’altra delle pareti dello studio viene sfondato così. Una squadra di marine è ora in posizione schierata nella stanza)
Marine: Barbabianca! Siamo la quattordicesima divisione del quartier generale della marina. L’intero palazzo è circondato! Rilascia gli ostaggi e arrenditi!
Maya (esclamando): Wow, sembra di essere in un episodio del Samurai d’acciaio!
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Già, peccato questa sia la realtà…
(Barbabianca alza leggermente il braccio con l’alabarda, e lo riabbassa di scatto, sbattendo così la punta del manico dell’arma a terra.
L’intero palazzo inizia a tremare.
Phoenix afferra Maya e Pearl e le stringe sotto di sé per proteggerle
Il terremoto cessa; Phoenix alza lo sguardo. Barbabianca aveva allargato una delle sue mani sopra di loro, evitando che gli cadesse qualcosa addosso; si scrolla i pezzi d’intonaco da dosso.
I marine giacciono a terra privi di sensi.
Maya si libera dalla stretta di Phoenix.
Mia: Le sembra la maniera di comportarsi?! (Maya evoca la sorella Mia) Pretende un processo giusto e poi si comporta in questa maniera? Lei è un criminale, e si metta bene in testa questa cosa: un avvocato difensore è colui che cerca sempre la verità, non di salvare un cliente anche se è colpevole!
Phoenix Wright: M-Mia…
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): E poi non dovrebbe provocarlo così, approfittando del fatto che lei è già morta…
Barbabianca: Lo capisco questo. Ho le mie colpe, e dopotutto non è per me che ho chiesto l’assoluzione. Ma non voglio nemmeno che queste colpe ricadano su qualcuno della mia famiglia. Sono disposto a qualsiasi cosa per salvare mio figlio, e se posso farlo evitando sofferenze, perché no? Per questo mi sono rivolto a voi.
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): Ehi, ehi, ehi… Perché quando gliel’ho detto io si è arrabbiato e con Mia ora fa tutto il gentile?
Barbabianca: Se non riuscirete ed Ace sarà condannato a morte, ci sarà una guerra, ed io tirerò giù tutta Marineford e la gente che c’è con lei.
Mia (lo fissava con il sguardo serio): Essere un pirata significa già essere stato giudicato un criminale. Non possiamo fare molto a questo proposito, e non può davvero pretendere che difendiamo qualcuno che ammette di essere colpevole.
(Barbabianca le passa di fronte ed apre il vetro della finestra
La strada di fronte era cosparsa di marines, tutti in posizione di battaglia)
Barbabianca: Vi ho già detto che Ace non c’entra niente, noi lo abbiamo costretto ad entrare nella ciurma. Vi chiedo di provarci. Non sareste anche voi disposti a fare tutto per la vostra famiglia?
Pearl (nascosta dietro Phoenix): C-certo!
(Barbabianca si era butta in strada, l’alabarda stretta in mano)
Mia: Phoenix! Devi fermarlo!
Phoenix Wright: (pensando): E come?!
(La terra trema ancora,
Phoenix si riparara sotto la scrivania con Maya e Pearl.)
29 Settembre, ore 12.00
Clinica Hotti
Studio Medico A
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright)
(Scenografia: sala ambulatoriale)
(Situazione: Phoenix è seduto sulla branda, testa fasciata e tiene una borsa del ghiaccio sulla testa)
(la porta si apre, compare Edgeworth)
Miles Edgeworth: In che guaio ti sei cacciato stavolta, Wright?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Grazie del saluto affettuoso, Edgeworth…
(Edgeworth entra nella stanza e chiude la porta alle sue spalle)
Phoenix Wright : Che ci fai qui? La pirateria non è di tua competenza.
Miles Edgeworth (annuendo): Infatti. Ma alcuni dei nostri uomini sono stati impiegati per controllare l’area, che è inagibile al momento, e un detective di nostra conoscenza mi ha avvertito che c’entravi tu e così, già che passavo…
(Flash di Gumshoe)
Phoenix Wright : Hai visto Maya e Pearl?
Miles Edgeworth: Sì, stavano mangiando al bar della hall…
Phoenix Wright : Ah E gli altri marines?
Miles Edgeworth: Ci sono stati parecchi feriti, ma nessuno serio. E nessuna vittima. (Edgeworth si siede sulla sedia al lato del letto, incrocia le braccia) Allora, cos’è successo?
Phoenix Wright (sospirando): Barbabianca voleva assumermi.
Miles Edgeworth (faccia strana, quella di quando gli si fa notare una contraddizione): Scusa?
Phoenix Wright : Voleva assumermi. Voleva che difendessi e facessi assolvere Portuguese D. Ace.
Miles Edgeworth: E’ una pazzia. (Fissa Phoenix) No, non ci credo!
Phoenix Wright : Ti assicuro che è così! Lo so che è strano, ma-
Miles Edgeworth (tono gelido): Non sto parlando di quello. Tu ci stai pensando, vero? Stai pensando di accettare il caso.
Phoenix Wright : Io? N-no, affatto..! (Edgeworth fissa Phoenix con lo sguardo non-pensare-di-fregarmi-Wright) (Phoenix sospira). N-Non è proprio così… Ti ricordi il caso di De Killer?
Miles Edgeworth (con un sorrisetto): Come no. Qual è il punto?
Phoenix Wright: Barbabianca ha provocato un terremoto in un intero distretto solo schioccando la mano. (Edgeworth rabbrividisce) Avrebbe potuto fare qualsiasi cosa per costringermi ad accettare, proprio come De Killer, anzi peggio… Ma non l’ha fatto.
Miles Edgeworth: E allora?
Phoenix Wright : Ha solo chiesto gentilmente… Nel senso, sembrava davvero solo un padre preoccupato…
Miles Edgeworth (si alza, come se fosse al banco della procura): Obiez- Ehm, frena un attimo. E’ stato gentile, d’accordo. Ma cosa della frase è-un-pirata-non-può-avere-un-processo non ti è chiara? Il tribunale è un posto dove si deve scoprire la verità. E la verità è che è un pirata, quindi un criminale. Non vorrai rimetterti a difendere un colpevole, vero?
Phoenix Wright: No, certo che no. Però… Continuava a sostenere che, a prescindere da lui, Portuguese fosse innocente.
Miles Edgeworth: E in base a cosa? Perché mai la marina dovrebbe mettere una taglia a caso?
Phoenix Wright (Scuote la testa): Non so…
(Voce fuori campo)
Maya: Ma sappiamo a chi chiederlo. (Maya entra in scena assieme a Pearl) Niiick! Come ti senti? Finalmente l’infermiera ci ha dato il permesso di entrare. (Phoenix la fissa con uno sguardo da tanto-so-che-ti-stavi-ingozzando-fino-ad-un-attimo-fa, ma sollevato allo stesso tempo) Oh, buongiorno signor Edgeworth… Che gentile, è venuto a trovare Nick?
Miles Edgeworth: Passavo di qui per caso…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Perché si vergogna a dire che voleva vedere se stavamo bene?!
Pearl (con gli occhi brillanti): Signor Nick! Lo sa che quelle ferite rappresentano l’amore che prova per la Mistica Maya, tanto da proteggerla con il proprio corpo…
Phoenix Wright (imbarazzato): Ah ah…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Possibile che Pearl non sia ancora riuscita ad afferrare che sto con Iris?
Phoenix Wright: Cosa stavi dicendo, Maya?
Maya (contenta): Ti ricordi che cosa ha detto Barbabianca? Per avere più informazioni sull’innocenza del nostro cliente, dobbiamo chiedere a Gold Roger!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non è il nostro cliente, ehi… Che cosa ti sei messa in testa?
Miles Edgeworth: Al Re dei Pirati? Questa poi! Peccato che sia morto…
Phoenix Wright (rassegnato): Non è mai stato un problema, no? (Si blocca un attimo) Maya, non vorrai-
(Sempre con i vestiti da sensitiva, in scena c’è adesso un uomo adulto, con scompigliati capelli neri, due paia di baffi ed un ghigno sul volto.
Edgeworth ha un’espressione sconvolta, Phoenix e Pearl trattenengono a stento le risate oer il suo aspetto ridicolo con l’abbigliamento di Maya
Gold Roger si guarda intorno, incuriosito)
Gold Roger (amichevole): Ehi, ciao a tutti. Ma che sta succedendo?
Phoenix Wright: Oh, be’, dunque… Io sono Phoenix Wright, un avvocato difensore. Questo ragazzo sconvolto è il procuratore Miles Edgeworth,” (occhiataccia di Edgeworth) e la bambina che dovrebbe smettere di ridere è Pearl…
Pearl: Mi scusi… Ah ah… Ma…
Gold Roger (agita una mano davanti, sorride): Oh, non c’è problema. Effettivamente sono d’accordo, non sono al mio massimo con questa roba addosso. Se mi vedessero i miei compagni non so quanta dignità mi rimarrebbe… Io sono Gol D. Roger, piacere di conoscervi.
Miles Edgeworth: Gol… D.?
Gold Roger: Esatto. Strano, però, ero convinto di essere morto fino a qualche minuto fa…
Pearl (esclamando): Infatti è così! La mistica Maya l’ha evocata attraverso il suo corpo sulla terra. Non è bravissima, la Mistica Maya?
Gold Roger: La Mistica Maya? Oh, non sarà mica una maestra dell’evocazione Kurain?
Phoenix Wright (stupito): Esattamente. La conosce?
Gold Roger: Durante i miei viaggi mi capitò di incontrare una ragazzina che si chiamava Misty Fey, anche lei faceva di queste cose. Una figata davvero, ma non mi era mai capitato di essere evocato. Che spettacolo!
Miles Edgeworth: Misty Fey? Quindi conosceva la madre di Maya e la zia di Pearl…”
Gold Roger: Quindi la persona che mi ha evocato sarebbe la figlia di Misty? È un onore conoscerla. (Sorride) Ma come sta? Non l’ho mai più incontrata… (Tutti abbassano lo sguardo contemporaneamente) Oh, capisco… (Per un attimo smette di sorridere, per poi ricominciare più di prima) Allora devo assolutamente cercarla nell’aldilà, così posso salutarla!
Pearl (timidamente): E la saluti anche da parte nostra…
Gold Roger (annuendo): Ma certo. (Incrocia le braccia) Gli amici dei miei amici sono miei amici. Che cosa posso fare per voi, signori? Non mi avrete evocato per una semplice chiacchierata, vero?
Miles Edgeworth: Bah!
Phoenix Wright: In effetti no. Ehm, noi stiamo investigando sul conto di un certo Portuguese D. Ace e… C’è stato detto che lei potrebbe sapere qualcosa su di lui…
Miles Edgeworth: Soprattutto sul perché la marina dovrebbe avercela con lui.
Gold Roger (abbassa lo sguardo per un attimo e smette di sorridere): Ah. E’ vero, si fa chiamare così ora… (Sospira, poi torna a guardare gli altri). Sì, credo di potervi dare delle informazioni, ma sarebbe più facile se vi potessi presentare un’altra persona… Che però è morta.
Pearl (esclamando): Non c’è problema! Posso evocarla io.
Gold Roger (sorriso di circostanza): Davvero? Anche se sei così piccina? Che brava! Allora, per favore, puoi chiamare una donna di nome Portuguese D. Rouge?
Pearl: Certo!
(Trasformazione del corpo di Pearl in quello di una bella giovane con il viso spruzzato di lentiggini ed illuminato da due occhi verdi
La nuova arrivata è disorientata
Breve break per le spiegazioni sulla storia dell’evocazione Kurain, chi erano e che cosa volevano sapere da loro)
Portuguese D. Rouge (distoglie lo sguardo da Phoenix ed Edgeworth per fissare Roger): Allora… Allora è vero… (Si getta singhiozzando fra le braccia di Roger) Dopo tutti questi anni… Alla fine ce l’hanno fatta…
Miles Edgeworth (tossisce): Scusatemi, signorina… Le mie supposizioni sono sbagliate o lei è la madre del soggetto in questione?
Portuguese D. Rouge (Lentamente, si stacca da Roger e si asciuga le lacrime con il dorso della mano, quindi riassume una posizione eretta): Esatto. Io sono la madre di Ace. (Pausa, si umetta le labbra) Venti anni fa, sono riuscita ad evitare che la marina lo prendesse, a costo della mia vita. Non me ne sono mai pentita, ma… Ora ha bisogno di me, e io non ci sono.
Miles Edgeworth (annuisce): Capisco. Ma due cose non mi sono ancora chiare. Innanzitutto, perché la marina sta cercando di catturare a “Pugno di Fuoco” da vent’anni? Vent’anni fa era appena un neonato.
Gold Roger (veloce in modo che non si capisca bene): Perché è mio figlio. Phoenix ed Edgeworth si guardano interrogativi) Un anno prima della mia esecuzione, passai del tempo in pace sull’isola di Batterilla, con Rouge. Quello che successe lo potete immaginare. Poi io mi consegnai alla marina e-
Phoenix Wright (esclamando): Un attimo! Lei non è stato arrestato?
Gold Roger: No. Ero malato da lungo tempo, stavo per morire. Così ho deciso di consegnarmi, piuttosto che morire anonimamente. Ovviamente la marina ne ha approfittato per rafforzare il proprio prestigio…
Miles Edgeworth (stupefatto): Che grande scoperta... Ma allora… Lei ha iniziato volontariamente l’Era della Pirateria?! (Sorriso enigmatico di Roger).
Portuguese D. Rouge: La marina venne anche a sapere di me. Decisero che lasciare vivere il figlio del Re dei Pirati fosse troppo pericoloso. (Si morse il labbro, amareggiata) Ho perso il contro di tutte le donne ed i neonati che persero la vita mentre mi cercavano, solo perché le date di nascita potevano corrispondere. (Si tocca la pancia) Per depistarli, sono riuscita a tenere Ace in grembo per venti mesi… Anche se questo mi è costato la vita.
Miles Edgeworth (ancora più stupefatto): State dicendo… State dicendo che pur di ucciderlo la marina avrebbe giustiziato degli innocenti?
Gold Roger: Credo che tu abbia un concetto un po’ troppo buonista della marina…
Phoenix Wright: Quindi… Quindi Portuguese D. Ace è davvero il figlio del Re dei Pirati?
Gold Roger: Già. E la cosa gli ha creato fin troppi problemi, fin da quando era bambino. Non mi sorprende che mi odi. (Si passa una mano sugli occhi) Barbabianca ha ragione. Ora che quelli della marina sono riusciti a catturarlo, non si lasceranno sfuggire l’occasione per ottenerne il massimo vantaggio. E sarà tutta colpa nostra se lui…
Portuguese D. Rouge (cerca di trattenere le lacrime): No! La colpa è della marina! Se non avessero fatto quello che hanno fatto, io sarei ancora con lui, e allora…” (Roger e Rouge si voltano verso Phoenix. Lei può fare qualcosa davvero, signor Wright?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Cos’è questo improvviso brivido alla schiena...?
Phoenix Wright: Io, be’, ecco… (Si volta a cercare aiuto verso Edgeworth) Devi ammettere che questa notizia cambia un po’ di cose…
Miles Edgeworth: Uhm… (incrocia le braccia) Sì, è un’informazione interessante… Ma non illuderti, Wright. Questo non cambia il fatto che Portuguese D. Ace sia un ricercato. Non credo che tu possa dimostrare il contrario.
Portuguese D. Rouge: Ma Ace è un bravo ragazzo! replicò Rouge. Roger vi ha già dimostrato che la marina può manipolare le informazioni, potrebbe averlo fatto anche stavolta!
Miles Edgeworth: E’ effettivamente un problema che andrebbe affrontato, ma non so se…
Phoenix Wright: Un sistema c’è. (Si infila la mano in tasca ed estrae il magatama di Maya) Usare questo.
Miles Edgeworth: Argh! E’ quello che penso?
Phoenix Wright: Sì, serve a vedere i Lucchetti Psichici. (Abbandona la borsa del e si alza dal letto) Se interrogassi Portuguese D. Ace usando questo, potrei essere sicuro della sua sincerità. E se davvero… Se davvero… (Phoenix si blocca a vedere lo sguardo di aspettativa negli occhi di Roger e Rouge)
Miles Edgeworth: Uhm… Consentirti di far visita al prigioniero più importante del mondo… Non sarà facile. Ma direi che ne vale la pena, se vogliamo scoprire la verità che c’è dietro a questa storia. A questo punto, come procuratore, non posso tirarmi indietro.
Portuguese D. Rouge: Oh, grazie, grazie! (Roger fissa il magatama con occhi scintillanti di curiosità)
Miles Edgeworth: Ti avverto, però, Wright. Dovrai recarti ad Impel Down, e quello che ti attende là è l’inferno in terra.
5 Ottobre, ore 10.00
Impel Down
Cancello d’Ingresso
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright)
(Scenografia: cancello d’ingresso della fortezza)
(Situazione: Phoenix è fermo in attesa, incuriosito; diventa dubbioso quando entra in scena Hannyabal, vestito da faraone e con alette da demone che gli spuntavano dalla schiena)
Hannyabal: Piacere, sono Hannyabal, il vice-direttore, anche se ancora per poco.
Phoenix Wright (stringe la mano con titubanza): Perché, ancora per poco? Si trasferisce?
Hannyabal: No, fra non molto caccerò finalmente il direttore e prenderò il suo posto! (Rimase fermo, con lo sguardo brillante rivolto in alto ed il pugno chiuso) Oh, mi scusi, mi sono perso un attimo nelle mie ambizioni. Lei dunque sarebbe…
Phoenix Wright: Phoenix Wright, avvocato difensore.
Hannyabal: Quindi sarebbe quell’avvocato… Il mio avvocato? (Lo scruta). Oh, mi scusi, sono stato di nuovo troppo ambizioso.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Che ambizione sarebbe aver bisogno di un avvocato difensore?!
Hannyabal: Naturalmente, so tutto dalla comunicazione che ci ha inviato il procuratore Edgeworth. Ci penserò io ad accompagnarla, giacché il direttore è al momento impegnato in un compito importantissimo.
Phoenix Wright: Oh, è per caso successo qualcosa di grave?
Hannyabal: No, è solo in bagno. Ha la diarrea, come ogni giorno. Sarà impegnato minimo per le prossime otto ore. (Rimase fermo, con lo sguardo brillante rivolto in alto ed il pugno chiuso) Ah. Ecco come ne approfitterò per fregargli il posto!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma si può affidare un posto così importante a gente del genere?! Edgeworth aveva ragione, questo posto è un inferno, ma per le persone che ci lavorano!
Hannyabal: Non dubito di lei, ma la regola dice che prima di entrare devo farle una perquisizione accurata. (Phoenix gli mostra subito il magatama) Sì, sì, il signor Edgeworth ce ne ha accennato, può tenerlo. (Breve ispezione corporale, poi Hannyabal fa cenno a Phoenix di seguirlo) Venga, l’ascensore è da questa parte.
(Attraversano un lungo e cupo corridoio, con due grandi calderoni che ribollivano, pieni d’acqua
Phoenix, con addosso la giacca, suda copiosamente)
Phoenix Wright (si fa aria con la mano): A che servono?
Hannyabal: Per il “battesimo” dei detenuti. Serve a liberarli dalle impurità.
Phoenix Wright: “Capisco… Un bel bagno caldo prima di entrare in prigione.
Hannyabal (ridacchia: Caldo lo è di sicuro… Sono più di cento gradi!
Phoenix Wright (sconvolto): COSA?! Ma sarà dolorosissimo!
Hannyabal: Oh, rispetto a quello che li attende, è una sciocchezza, le assicuro. (Hannyabal entra nell’ascensore e fa segno a Phoenix di entrare nell’ascensore; Phoenix è ancora leggermente. Le porte si chiudono) A questo proposito, le consiglio di godersi l’ascolto. Le urla dei prigionieri torturati si sentono fin qui.
5 Ottobre, 10.20
Impel Down
Livello sei
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Hannyabal, comparse nelle celle attorno)
(Scenografia: luogo cupo e silenzioso, corridoio con celle su ogni lato)
(Situazione: l’ascensore si apre, Hannyabal e Phoenix escono, Phoenix sembra sul punto di vomitare)
Hannyabal: Questo è il livello sei, l’inferno eterno, dove vengono imprigionati i criminali più pericolosi.
Phoenix Wright (debolmente): Ah, davvero..?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Perché cavolo il mio cliente si trova qui?!
(Hannyabal e Phoenix camminano lungo il corridioio.
Phoenix cammina a fatica, tenendosi lo stomaco; il sudore gli scende sul viso pallido)
Phoenix Wright: E che torture ci sono?
Hannyabal: Nessuna, in realtà. La punizione più grande è l’essere qui, nel buio e nel silenzio, senza possibilità di uscire per l’eternità… A parte per la loro esecuzione, ovvio. Persino la morte è più piacevole.
Phoenix Wright (ansima mentre lo segue a fatica): “Perché… I prigionieri degli altri livelli vengono liberati?
Hannyabal: No.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E allora qual è la differenza?!
Hannyabal: Ecco, siamo arrivati.
(Hannyabal ndica una delle celle sul fondo del corridoio, una grande cassa con sbarre che formavano quadrati. Phoenix si avvicina per poter guardare meglio.
All’inizio si vide solo una sagoma in lontananza, non definibile; poi una persona, con le braccia incatenate contro il muro, e la testa chinata sul petto.
L’intero corpo è cosparso di ferite sanguinanti.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Siamo sicuri che sia ancora vivo?!
Phoenix Wright (Tossisce leggermente, rivolgendosi ad Hannyabal): Scusi, le dispiacerebbe allontanarsi di un po’? Sa, il segreto professionale...
Hannyabal: Oh… Certo, certo.
(Hannyabal si allontana un numero sufficiente di passi da uscire di scena,
Phoenix tornai a controllare all’interno della cella, si limita a guardare.
Ace alza la testa, un attimo, impercettibile, scocca un’occhiata rapida a Phoenix, poi la riabbassa.
Portuguese D. Rouge (tono rauco): Chi… Sei..?
Phoenix Wright: Io… be’, mi chiamo Phoenix Wright, sono un avvocato difensore.
Portuguese D. Rouge (stupito): Un avvocato difensore?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sono stupito anche io di essere qui…
Portuguese D. Ace: Chi devi difendere?
Phoenix Wright: Teoricamente… Lei.
(Il petto di Ace inizia ad alzarsi ed abbassarsi velocemente;
Phoenix si preoccupa, teme che Ace abbia dei problemi respiratori per via delle torture.
Poi si accorgle che Ace stava ridendo)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Io non lo trovo per niente divertente!!
Portuguese D. Ace: Mi scusi, signor avvocato. (Alza di nuovo la testa, ha le lentiggini di sua madre e il sorriso ampio di suo padre) Ma è la prima volta che sento di un pirata con un avvocato difensore… E poi lei mi ha dato del lei, così formale… Nessuno mi ha mai dato del lei, prima d’ora. E’ interessante.
Phoenix Wright: Le assicuro che è una situazione strana anche per me, signor..?
Portuguese D. Ace (ride): Per favore, mi chiami Ace, come fanno tutti.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Almeno il suo umore sembra buono…
Phoenix Wright: Ok. Puoi chiamarmi Nick, allora, come fanno… Be’, veramente lo fanno solo Maya e Larry, che non sono proprio le persone più affidabili del mondo, ma…” (Ace ride ancora. Phoenix abbassa il tono di voce) Sono qui da parte del tuo capitano.
Portuguese D. Ace (tiene alzata la testa): Il mio vecchio..?
Phoenix Wright: Sì, be’… Mi ha chiesto di cercare di farti avere un processo e difenderti…
Portuguese D. Ace: Capisco… (Sospiro profondo) Bene, avvocato. Io sarei il suo cliente, vero?
Phoenix Wright: Credo sia così…
Portuguese D. Ace: Allora c’è qualcosa che può fare per me… Per il suo cliente. Uccidermi.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): COSA?!
(Phoenix rimane immobile, sconvolto)
Portuguese D. Ace: Ascolti, so perché il mio vecchio è venuto da lei, l’ho capito. E’ vecchio, stanco e malato, ma la sua fama ed il suo orgoglio lo costringono ad aiutarmi. Se i ragazzi venissero a salvarmi… Ci sarebbe una guerra, e morirebbero in tanti. L’ultima cosa che vorrei è vedere i miei compagni morire a causa mia. E visto che sono finito in questi disastro unicamente per la mia stupidità, sarebbe anche peggio. (Rialza lo sguardo) L’unica soluzione è che io muoia ora. Così nessun’altro sarà costretto a morire.
Phoenix Wright (in fretta): E’ per questo che sono qui! E’ per evitare che tutto questo accada. Tutto.
Portuguese D. Ace (piccolo sorriso): Lo apprezzo, avvocato. Ma non può fare miracoli, e la marina non mi lascerà mai andare…
Phoenix Wright: Per via di tuo padre? Il tuo vero padre, intendo. (Ace lo fissa con gli occhi spalancati, sorpresi o terrorizzati) Sì, so chi è, ho… Be’, lasciamo perdere.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Meglio evitare di esagerare con le informazioni strane.
Phoenix Wright: E’ stato proprio Barbabianca a dirmelo. Pensava fosse un’informazione rilevante a fini processuali.
Portuguese D. Ace (rassegnato):E lo è, no? Visto che sa la verità, capisce bene che non ci sono speranze.
Phoenix Wright: Al contrario, credo proprio che questa cosa possa tornare a nostro favore in tribunale.
Portuguese D. Ace (interessato): E come?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehm, in realtà non ci ho ancora pensato per bene…
Phoenix Wright: Voglio dimostrare che non ci sono motivi per la tua esecuzione.
(Si mette una mano in tasca ed estrae il magatama.)
Portuguese D. Ace: Sono un pirata. Non è un motivo sufficiente?
Phoenix Wright: Sì, se sei davvero un criminale. Lo sei? (Phoenix alzai la mano, Ace si concentrar sulla luminosità azzurrina che emana il mahatama) Perché sei diventato un pirata?
Portuguese D. Ace: Ho sempre pensato… Di non poter essere nient’altro.
Phoenix Wright: Per via di tuo padre?
Portuguese D. Ace: Per via di mio padre. E poi, c’è un’altra cosa… Ho fatto una promessa.
Phoenix Wright: Una promessa?
Portuguese D. Ace (alza lo sguardo, sorride, malinconico ma orgoglioso): Ho promesso ad una persona molto importante per me che saremo partiti per mare, vivendo più liberi di chiunque altro.
Phoenix Wright (deluso): Tutto qui?
Portuguese D. Ace: Tutto qui. I pirati sono le persone più libere del mondo, non lo sapeva?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): A dire la verità no… Non è proprio questa la definizione che userei…
(Non appaiono lucchetti psichici)
Phoenix Wright: Posso provare a difenderti in tribunale
Portuguese D. Ace: E’ proprio testardo, lei. E va bene, allora, faccia come vuole. (Sussurrato) Grazie.
Phoenix Wright: Ora che abbiamo un accordo, ci sono un paio di cose che vorrei chiederti… Per preparare una difesa.
Portuguese D. Ace: A che riguardo?
Phoenix Wright: Be’, su Barbabianca… E su Barbanera.
Portuguese D. Ace (si irrigidisce, e stringere le labbra un attimo): Cosa vuole sapere?
(Breve sfumata mentre discutono.
Hannyabal si avvicina e la discussone si interompe.
Hannyabal e Phoenix si allontanano dalla cella di Ace.
Esplode il boato delle voci dei prigionieri tenuti nelle vicinanze
Phoenix si nasconde dietro Hayyabal)
Phoenix Wright: Faccia qualcosa!
Hannyabal: “Ehm… A dire la verità... Che dovrei fare..?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Se non lo sa lei!!
Uno dei prigionieri (si avvicina alle sbarre): Perché non difende anche me, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: Perché, sei innocente?
Uno dei prigionieri: Ovvio!
(Appaiono innumerevoli lucchetti psichici)
12 Ottobre, ore 09.00
Enies Lobby
Centro città
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya)
(Scenografia: un’isola sospesa sopra una cascata)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya camminano per le vie di Enies Lobby)
Maya: Nick! Guarda là! Che spettacolo!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Guarda che non siamo in gita turistica…
Maya: Uffa, tu non mi ascolti… Vorrei che Pearl fosse qui! Lei capirebbe!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Scusa tanto!
Phoenix Wright: Sai che è meglio che sia rimasta al villaggio Kurain. Le cose potrebbero mettersi male.
Maya: Sì, lo so. (Abbassò lo sguardo tristemente. Lo rialza) Ehi, a proposito! Io non sono ancora riuscita ad incontrare il nostro cliente! Nick, mi piacerebbe proprio conoscere questo terribile criminale che stai per difendere…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E a me piacerebbe approfittarne per chiedergli qualcos’altro di utile…
Phoenix Wright: Abbiamo ancora un po’ di tempo prima che inizi la seduta. Vediamo se è già arrivato.
12 Ottobre, ore 09.10
Enies Lobby
Ponte dell’Esitazione
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Sady-chan)
(Scenografia: ponte che porta verso la prigione di Impel Down)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya individuano Sady-chan che sta guardando l’orizzonte, mormorando fra sé, con un vestito di pelle rosso a borchie, una frusta e due corna che le spuntavano dalla testa)
Sady-chan: …mmm…
Maya: Ehi, Nick? Chi è questa tizia strana?
Phoenix Wright: …Non ne ho idea.
Sady-chan: Che vergogna… mmm… Per Impel Down…
Sady-chan: Ehm, scusi, signorina…
(Phoenix riceve una frustrata in pieno petto)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma che cavolo!
Sady-chan: Il mio nome è Sady-chan! E la tortura… mmm… è la mia passione.
Maya: Nick, questa tizia mi fa paura…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Eh, questo è perché non hai mai assaggiato la frusta di Franziska…
Phoenix Wright: Allora, signorina, ehm, Sady-chan. Che è successo?
Sady-chan: Mmm… Sono venuta qui su ordine del… mmm… Direttore Magellan- (Rimette la frusta a posto) Ma qui ho incontrato una donna che… mmm… non ha voluto farmi entrare. (La frusta ritornò a colpire in giro, ma stavolta sia Phoenix sia Maya si scansano) Che affronto immenso! Io devo… mmm… dominare!
(Phoenix si nasconde dietro una porta onde evitare i fendenti.
Sady-chan: Può esserci solo una donna con la frusta in tribunale, eh? Allora quella devo essere io! E per di più, tanto per aggiungere vergogna… mmm... mmi sono lasciata scappare il prigioniero…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Aspetta un attimo…
Phoenix Wright: Scusi, ma quindi… Lei era venuta qui per scortare l’imputato?
Sady-chan: Sì… mmm… mma mentre litigavo con quella donna, l’ho perso di vista… mmm…
Maya (uscendo dal suo nascondiglio ): Nick, che significa?
Phoenix Wright: Direi… Che il nostro cliente è appena evaso…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Questo processo sta iniziando benissimo, proprio…
Phoenix Wright: Senta, Sady-chan, lei rimanga qui e cerchi ancora di entrare. Noi andiamo a cercarlo.
Sady-chan: Bene… mmm…” mi rispose, schioccando la frusta. “Poi portatelo da me.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ecco, questo lo eviterei…
Phoenix Wright: Vieni, Maya, andiamo.
Maya: Sììì!
(Maya e Phoenix si allontanano a cercare Ace
Lo trovano adagiato contro uno dei piloni del ponte, nell’angolo illuminato dal sole, con lo sguardo leggermente alzato verso il cielo e gli occhi chiusi.
Ace apre gli occhi quando sentì i passi che si avvicinano.)
Portuguese D. Ace: Ehi, avvocato!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ecco un altro che è allegro a sproposito…
Phoenix Wright (calmo): Ascolta… Cercare di provare la tua innocenza sarà molto dura se cercherai di scappare alla prima occasione.
Portuguese D. Ace: Non volevo scappare. Ma quelle due si erano messe a litigare per nulla, e mi stavo annoiando… Così ho solo pensato di prendere un po’ d’aria. Era da tanto tempo che non vedevo il mare e il sole.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): No, Phoenix, non farti commuovere!
Portuguese D. Ace: Comunque, non è che possa andare tanto lontano con queste, no? (Mostra iI polsi ancora stretti con pesanti manette di agalmatolite, collegate da lunghe catene. Alla luce del sole il sangue incrostato delle ferite spicca maggiormente)
Phoenix Wright: Be’, sì… Ah, c’è una cosa che vorrei chiederti.
Portuguese D. Ace: Certo, spara.
Phoenix Wright: Non so ancora cosa uscirà al processo, oggi…
Portuguese D. Ace: …Ma quasi sicuramente la storia di mio padre.
Phoenix Wright: Probabile. Vorrei che… Qualunque cosa succeda in aula, non fare nulla. Lascia fare a me, ok?
(Ace lo scruta attentamente)
Portuguese D. Ace: Va bene, le prometto che non farò nulla, ma in cambio vorrei un favore da lei.
Phoenix Wright (titubante): Se posso…
Portuguese D. Ace: Quando questo processo sarà finito, e finirà male.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Abbi un po’ di fiducia in me! Anche se io sono il primo a non averla…
Portuguese D. Ace: Dovrà andare dal mio vecchio e dagli altri, e dirgli di non venire a salvarmi. Lo promette?
Phoenix Wright: Non servirà.
Portuguese D. Ace: Lei è l’avvocato. A lei il compito di convincerlo.
Phoenix Wright (sospira): Te lo prometto. (Ace e Maya si stavano scrutando vicendevolmente, incuriositi l’uno dall’altro) Oh, a proposito, questa è la mia assistente, Maya Fey. Maya, lui è il nostro cliente, Portuguese D. Ace.
Portuguese D. Ace: Ehi, ciao! Non ti posso stringere la mano, e comunque è talmente sporca che tanto meglio per te…
(Maya lo fissa attentamente)
Maya: Perché sei ridotto così?
Phoenix Wright: Tipo, hai presente la tizia di prima con la frusta? Ecco.
Maya (arrabbiata): Ma non va bene! Come si può trattare così una persona? Farla andare così al processo… Ora ci penso io! (Cerca nelle tasche) Scusa, Nick, ho scordato a casa il fazzoletto, mi presti il tuo?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sii un po’ femminile, una volta tanto…
(Phoenix prende il fazzoletto e glielo passa.
Lei lo inumidisce con l’acqua ed inizia a passarlo sul viso di Ace per ripulirlo dal sangue.
Ace è imbarazzato, eppure non riesce a spostarsi, perché le prese di Maya sono piuttosto forti.
Quando Maya finisce, però, il viso di Ace sembra più quello di una maschera di carnevale, con chiazze di sangue scolorito sparse un po’ dappertutto.
Phoenix ride).
Maya: Uhm, così va meglio…
Portuguese D. Ace: Ehi, lei è il mio avvocato! Non può ridere di me!
Akainu (voce fuori campo): Siete qui. (Akainu entra in scena)
Phoenix Wright: Sì, io… Uhm… Stavo solo consultandomi un attimo con il mio cliente…
Akainu: Il suo cliente ha un unico problema: è ancora vivo. (Sorriso sprezzante) E quando questa farsa sarà finita, le assicuro, non sarà per niente contento di averci fatto perdere tutto questo tempo.”
Phoenix Wright (pensando): È una minaccia? Perché, in questo caso, io… Io sono veramente terrorizzato!
Akainu (si sporge in avanti, afferra Ace per i capelli e lo trascina via): Andiamo.
Maya: Non preoccuparti, lascia fare tutto a Nick! Ci penserà lui!”
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Che gioia…
Maya: Mi ha salvato già tre volte da una condanna a morte!
12 Ottobre, ore 09.50
Enies Lobby
Torre di Destra
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Godot)
(Scenografia: una stanza con pareti di pietra, vuota)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya entrano nella stanza e trovano Godot ad aspettarli)
Godot: Ehi, Wright! Sempre appresso a casi impossibili, eh? Proprio come avrebbe fatto Mia.
Phoenix Wright: Questa volta più che impossibile mi sembra fantascientifico. Davvero, non so come farò a far dichiarare innocente un criminale che si dichiara tale.
Ema Skye (voce fuori campo) Anche mia sorella si accusava di omicidio, anche se era innocente. (Compare in scena) Ma lei è riuscito a farla scagionare comunque.
Maya: Ciao, Ema!
Ema Skye (si toglie gli occhiali dalle lenti rosa, fa un sorrisetto soddisfatto): Sono venuta a portarvi gli enormi risultati che solo un’indagine scientifica può procurare.
Phoenix Wright: Quello che ti ho chiesto? Giusto in tempo, grazie!
Ema Skye: Oh, non è stato facile. (Passa una cartella di documenti a Phoenix). Ma dalla futura investigatrice scientifica Ema Skye questo e altro.
Godot: Anche io ho una cosa per te. (Passa un pacco di fogli)
Phoenix Wright: Che cos’è? (dà una letta veloce)
Godot: Non ne sono sicuro, ma potrebbero esserti utili. In quanto ex-procuratore, ho ancora qualche contatto importante nell’ufficio, perciò mi sono messo un po’ ad indagare sui testimoni dell’accusa. Non ho potuto fare molto, ma quello che c’è è lì.
Phoenix Wright: Grazie, davvero. Si va in scena.
12 Ottobre, ore 10.00
Enies Lobby
Tribunale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth e Franziska Von Karma, l’intera Marina sugli spalti)
(Scenografia: aula di tribunale, con la maggior parte del pubblico di marine)
(Situazione: Phoenix è al banco della difesa, stanno tutti aspettando l’entrata di Baskerville, il giudice di Enies Lobby)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Accidenti, che razza di situazione…
(Edgeworth fa una delle sue faccia strane; è entrato il giudice e non è Baskerville, ma Il Giudice)
Miles Edgeworth: Signor Giudice, che ci fa lei qui?!
Il Giudice: Baskerville ha avuto un improvviso attacco di diarrea dopo una cena con Magellan.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma no?
Il Giudice: E dato che è un mio caro amico, mi ha chiesto di sostituirlo, quindi eccomi qui. Signor Wright, vedo che i suoi casi diventano sempre più disperati.
Miles Edgeworth (alzata di spalle): Lo sa, è tipico del nostro avvocato cercare cause perse…
Phoenix Wright: Grazie, eh…
Il Giudice: Bene, direi di iniziare. Signor Edgeworth, la sua dichiarazione d’apertura.
Miles Edgeworth: L’imputato di questo processo, Portuguese D. Ace, è un pirata condannato all’esecuzione capitale,” spiegò lui. “Ma dato che il qui presente avvocato non sembra convinto di questa decisione, è nostro dovere confermare, con estrema chiarezza, che la sentenzia sia giusta.
Il giudice: Capisco, anche se non vedo qual è il problema della difesa…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non mi ha ancora lasciato spiegare nulla…
Miles Edgeworth: Se mi permette, Vostro Onore, direi di convocare subito il primo testimone. E’ colui che conosce i retroscena dietro questa condanna, cioè le vicende piratesche dell’imputato.
Il Giudice: Benissimo. Di chi si tratta?
(Il Grand’Ammiraglio Sengoku prende posto al banco dei testimoni).
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone, nome ed occupazione.
Sengoku (occhiataccia a edgeworth): “Sengoku. Ammiraglio della Marina Militare.”
Miles Edgeworth: Bene. Ora illustri la situazione in modo che la difesa capisca in che situazione si è cacciata.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): La vogliamo piantare?!
Maya (sussurando): Nick… Ho una gran voglia di appendermi a quella treccia e dondolarmi.
Phoenix Wright: Evita, ti prego.
Sengolu (sospiro): Sinceramente, non capisco nemmeno perché ci sia stata necessità di quest’udienza. Ace “Pugno di Fuoco” è un pirata, ed in quanto pirata è perfettamente condannabile alla pena capitale.”
Phoenix Wright: Un attimo! Quindi lei sostiene che il mio cliente sia un pirata?
Sengoku (occhiataccia a Phoenix): Il suo cliente è un pirata.
Phoenix Wright: E in base a cosa lo dice?
Sengoku (sconvolto): In base a… E’ un pirata. Gira su una nave con un Jolly Roger..!
Phoenix Wright: Quindi per lei chiunque abbia un Jolly Roger è un pirata?
Sengoku: Non è ovvio? Se hai una bandiera pirata sei un pirata, se hai una divisa sei un marine. Uno non gira con un Jolly Roger per niente.
Franziska Von Karma (schiocca la frusta): Basta girarci attorno, Herr Phoenix Wright! Se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo.
Phoenix Wright: Dunque, secondo il dizionario della lingua edito dalla Kodasha, un pirata è colui che “scorrazza per mare depredando navi di qualunque nazionalità e compiendo azioni criminose sul litorale”.
Il Giudice: E quindi?
Phoenix Wright: Ecco! (Estrae una cartella) Questo è il dossier su Portuguese D. Ace. Io lo leggo, ma non trovo nulla di questo, a parte… A parte il fatto che non paga mai nei ristoranti. Be’, se questo è un motivo per condannare a morte qualcuno, anche il povero detective Gumshoe dovrebbe essere arrestato!
Sengoku: Legga meglio, signor avvocato. Che mi dice di tutti gli attacchi ai marine?” (Viene colpito dalla frusta di Franziska) Ma che le prende?!
Franziska Von Karma: Intervenire al posto dell’accusa è solo una stupida azione di uno stupido, testimone. Prego, Miles, continua pure.
Phoenix Wright: Obiezione! Il testimone ha appena fatto un’altra affermazione, e io ho il diritto di contro-interrogarlo.
Il Giudice: Bene, signor Wright. Sa spiegarmi perché un innocente dovrebbe combattere con la marina?
Phoenix Wright (sorride): Credo di sì, Vostro Onore. Io credo che il mio cliente non sia stato il primo ad attaccare quei marine, ma il contrario. È stata solo legittima difesa, la sua!
Franziska Von Karma: Obiezione! Perché i marine dovrebbero prendersela con un comune cittadino? Addirittura tanto da fingere che sia un pirata e condannarlo a morte?
Il Giudice: Giusto, signor Wright. Qual è la sua spiegazione?
Phoenix Wright (annuisce): I marine hanno cercato di uccidere il mio cliente ancora prima che nascesse, perciò mi sembra ovvio che stiano provando a giustiziarlo come un criminale, pur di toglierselo dai piedi!
(La corte scoppia in un enorme boato)
Il Giudice (grida, sbattendo a più non posso il martelletto): Ordine! Ordine! Ordine! Signor Wright! Si rende conto di quello che sta dicendo?
Phoenix Wright: Sì, Vostro Onore. Ma ho le prove del motivo che c’è dietro a quest’odio che la marina prova verso il mio cliente.
(Phoenix alzaa gli occhi verso Ace, che è incatenato ad una sedia tra i tre ammiragli,
Ace tiene la testa basa.
Il vice ammiraglio Garp, davanti a lui, stringe le mani sui braccioli fino a spaccarli.
Le labbra di Garp dicono: “Lo sa.”
Sengoku appare particolarmente teso)
Il Giudice: Allora, signor Wright, presenti questa sua prova.
Phoenix Wright (esclamando): Ecco! La marina ha cercato Ace ancora prima che nascesse perché… Suo padre non è altri che Gold Roger, il Re dei Pirati.
(L’intera corte si trasforma in un caos assurdo e, tra le urla e i fischi;
nemmeno il giudice riusciva a ristabilire l’ordine, anzi, rischiava di spaccare il martelletto a forza di sbatterlo.
Solo l’ammiraglio Aokiji, che dall’inizio del processo stava, sembrava immune dalla situazione, dormendo con la mascherina sugli occhi.
Interviene Franziska, che a forza di menare colpi di frusta in giro riesce a far calmare gli spettatori)
Il Giudice: Molto bene, grazie, signorina Von Karma (Il Giudice tossisce, imbarazzato, prima di tornare a rivolgersi a Phoenix) Signor Wright, spero che lei abbia le prove di quello che dice.
Phoenix Wright: Ecco! Questo è un test del DNA che mostra senza alcun dubbio la parentela fra il mio cliente e il Re dei Pirati.”
Il Giudice: Cos’è il DNA? Un nuovo quiz radiofonico?
Miles Edgeworth: No, Vostro Onore. Si tratta di una nuova analisi inventata dalla polizia scientifica per stabilire i legami di paternità e maternità delle persone.
Il Giudice (sbatte le palpebre): Capisco… Ma allora è vero! Incredibile! Quindi è ovvio che l’imputato sia un pirata!
Phoenix Wright: Obiezione! Se si dovesse giudicare una persona dal padre, credo che né il signor Edgeworth né la signorina Von Karma avrebbero il permesso di stare sulla sedia del procuratore.
(Frustata in faccia)
Il Giudice: Anche questo è vero…
Sengoku: Mi permette un’obiezione? Non saprei, ma dalla reazione che ha avuto tutta l’aula, sembra che questa notizia ce l’abbia data lei per la prima volta.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Cavoli..! Ha ragione…
Sengoku (Alzata di spalle): Grazie della conferma, comunque. Abbiamo fatto bene, anni fa, a dare la caccia al figlio del Re dei Pirati, a giudicare da quello che è diventato oggi. Se lo lasciassimo fare ancora-
Ema Skye (dalla tribuna): Obiezione!
(La frusta di Franziska non è lunga abbastanza da raggiungere Ema, seduta su una delle tribune più alte)
Franziska Von Karma: La gente la deve piantare di intervenire al posto dell’accusa e della difesa, per di più copiando le nostre espressioni!”
Ema Sky: Quelle analisi del DNA, non sono recenti. Sono state fatte dal dipartimento scientifico della Marina tre anni fa. E se guardate la data, noterete che sono state fatte ancora prima che “Pugno di Fuoco” ottenesse una taglia!
Phoenix Wright: Ecco! Questo dimostra che, almeno nelle alte sfere della marina, la cosa era risaputa. (Sorriso) E non era davvero necessario informare i ranghi inferiori: bastava mettere una taglia sulla testa del mio cliente per fare in modo che chiunque, anche i cacciatori di taglie, potessero ucciderlo e togliervelo dai piedi.
Akainu: Ma si rende conto di quello che sta dicendo?!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Oddio… Sì, credo di sì…
Maya: Nick, che stai facendo? Rispondigli a tono!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Fosse facile…
Phoenix Wright: Visto che avete tentato di ucciderlo già ancora prima che nascesse, la cosa mi sembra molto probabile.
Il giudice (sbattendo il martelletto): Procuratore Edgeworth, che cosa ne pensa di tutta questa storia?
Miles Edgeworth (alza le spalle): Devo dire che la difesa ha sollevato un particolare importante.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Deve avere qualcosa in mente…
Miles Edgeworth: “Ace “Pugno di Fuoco” è davvero un pirata, oppure la marina gli ha affibbiato una taglia solo a causa di suo padre? Con questo dubbio, è chiaro che non possiamo fidarci della parola di nessun ufficiale per stabilire quale sia la verità.
Akainu: “COSA?!”
(Akainu stava per lanciarsi su Edgeworth per addentarlo alla giugulare, ma il martelletto del giudice lo colpisce in pieno volto riuscendo a fermarlo)
Il Giudice: La parola solo all’accusa e alla difesa!
Miles Edgeworth: Grazie, Vostro Onore. Penso che sia ora di chiamare un altro testimone per risolvere definitivamente la questione.
Il Giudice: Bene. Grand’ammiraglio, grazie della disponibilità. Può andare.
(Sengoku annusce con un cenno del capo, ordina ad Akainu di smetterla di dare spettacolo di sé stesso in quel modo, e si avvia di nuovo in tribuna. Passa di fianco a Phenix)
Sengoku (sussurra): Porti pure avanti questa farsa quanto più a lungo può, ma, alla fine, non potrà dimostrare il contrario di una cosa: Ace è un pirata di Barbabianca.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E qui ha un punto a suo favore…
Maya (sussurrando) Nick. Davvero, in questo caso, non c’è una contraddizione?
Phoenix Wright: Ci penseremo quando si presenterà il problema. Per il momento, la cosa importante è dimostrare che Ace non era un pirata fin dall’inizio.
(Jinbe prende posto sul banco dei testimoni.
Phoenix, Maya e Il Giudice lo guardano ammirati e stupiti.
Ace ha aveva rialzato lo sguardo, anche lui stupito)
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone, nome e occupazione.
Jinbe: Mi chiamo Jinbe, sono un membro della Flotta dei Sette.
Il Giudice: La Flotta dei Sette? E’ un nuovo gruppo musicale?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Potrebbe almeno leggere i giornali, Vostro Onore..!
Miles Edgeworth: No, signore. E’ un gruppo di sette pirati autorizzati dal governo.
Sengoku: Mi lasci spiegare com’è la questione. E’ vero, abbiamo concesso a determinati pirati alcuni diritti speciali, come il congelamento della taglia. In cambio, però, non devono attaccare nessuna nave o città membro del governo mondiale, pena la perdita di tutti questi privilegi, com’è successo non molto tempo fa a Crocodile. Per questo, i membri della Flotta dei Sette combattono esclusivamente contro altri pirati.
Il Giudice: Ho capito. Quindi lei è una specie di marine non ufficiale.
Jinbe: Una specie.
Miles Edgeworth: Bene, testimone. Mi parli del suo incontro con l’imputato. E sia esauriente.
Jinbe (annuisce): Credo che sia successo all’incirca due anni e mezzo fa. Il nostro incontro non avvenne sull’isola delle sirene, ma in una delle prima del Nuovo Mondo.
Miles Edgeworth: Scusi se la interrompo. (estrae un Jolly Roger da sotto il banco e lo mostra: rappresentava un teschio con un cappello dalla foggia molto particolare e delle fiamme attorno) Questa era la bandiera che sventolava sulla sua nave? La bandiera degli Spade Pirates?
Jinbe: Sì.
Miles Edgeworth: Molto bene, prosegua pure con la sua testimonianza.
Jinbe: Abbiamo combattuto per cinque giorni ininterrottamente, riducendoci in fin di vita.
Maya (sconvolta): Cinque giorni ininterrottamente?! Senza mangiare nemmeno una volta?!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Che razza di gente mi trovo di fronte?!
Franziska Von Karma: Testimone, lasci perdere gli stupidi commenti della stupida assistente con quegli stupidi abiti addosso. E prosegua pure.
Jinbe: Non c’è molto altro da dire. Si è trattato sostanzialmente di un pareggio, perché alla fine dei cinque giorni, è arrivato Barbabianca ad interromperci.
Miles Edgeworth: Come vede, Vostro Onore, abbiamo una testimonianza imparziale. (Piccolo inchino) Un membro della Flotta dei Sette ha combattuto contro l’imputato in veste di pirata, il quale è poi stato salvato dall’intervento di un altro ben noto pirata, che adesso è il suo capitano. Direi che non ci sono più dubbi.
Il Giudice: In effetti… Se si mettono assieme la taglia, la bandiera e questo combattimento… Sembrano prove plausibili per condannare l’imputato come pirata.
Phoenix Wright: Ciò nonostante, vorrei contro-interrogare il teste.
(occhiata di Jimbe piena di speranza e riconoscenza)
Il Giudice: Bene, signor Wright, proceda pure.
Phoenix Wright: Lei è conosciuto come il leader degli uomini pesce, vero?
Jinbe: Esatto, anche se non è proprio così. Lo sono diventato solamente alla morte di Fisher Tiger, quando in realtà la ciurma originaria dei pirati del sole si era smembrata, perciò, in realtà, controllo sono una piccola parte degli uomini pesce. Però diciamo che per quello che riguarda l’amministrazione dell’Isola delle Sirene, sanno che possono contare su di me per la difesa.
Phoenix Wright: Difesa? Parla del problema della discriminazione della sua specie?
Jinbe: Nonostante la legge varata dal Governo Mondiale duecento anni fa, il problema è sempre presente, ed è aumentato soprattutto in questi ultimi venti anni. Sono moltissimi gli uomini pesce e le sirene che vengono rapiti, ed io faccio del mio meglio per proteggerli.
Phoenix Wright: Ha parlato di un aumento negli ultimi venti anni. Suppongo che sia a causa dell’Era della Pirateria?
Miles Edgeworth: Obiezione! Tutto quello di cui si sta parlando ora è irrilevante ai fini processuali.
Il giudice (sbatte le palpebre): Ma mi sembrava un argomento interessantARGH!
(La frusta di Franziska colpisce Il Giudice in pieno)
Franziska Von Karma: Se vuole discutere di queste cose, vada al bar con i vecchietti della sua età. Non siamo qui a risolvere i problemi della società.
Il Giudice (mormorando): A me basterebbe che lei risolvesse i suoi problemi con la frusta…
Phoenix Wright (Sbatte le mani sul banco): Vostro Onore! L’accusa sta cercando di dimostrare che il testimone ha combattuto contro l’imputato perché pirata. La difesa crede invece che ci sia un altro motivo, ma per scoprirlo è necessario stabilire per bene la situazione presente nell’Isola degli Uomini Pesce.
Il Giudice: Uhm, se non fosse lei, signor Wright, direi che si sta arrampicando un’altra volta sugli specchi. Molto bene, testimone, fornisca una testimonianza a questo riguardo.
Jimbe (annuisce): Come ho detto prima, anche se illegale, capita da sempre che sirene ed uomini pesce vengano rapiti per essere venduti come schiavi. E la situazione è peggiorata negli ultimi anni, perché con l’avvento della pirateria è aumentata la quantità di criminali che si avventurano nel nostro territorio…
Phoenix Wright: E’ per questo che lei è diventato un membro della Flotta dei Sette? Per combattere questi pirati con l’appoggio del governo?
Jinbe: In un certo senso, sì.
Miles Edgeworth: Ed è per questo che ha combattuto con l’imputato?
Jimbe: No.
Miles Edgeworth (spalanca gli occhi, e si appoggia al bancone): Come no?
Franziska Von Karma: Testimone! Sia serio! (La frusta non ha effetto sulla pelle resistente da pesce) Oh, accidenti!
Jinbe: Come ho detto, non ho incontrato Ac- l’imputato sull’Isola delle Sirene. Perciò non l’ho attaccato per questo motivo e, per quello che ne so, non si è mai macchiato di un crimine simile.
Miles Edgeworth: Allora perché ci ha combattuto?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ti prego, Godot, dimmi che puoi salvarmi..!
(Phoenix dà una veloce occhiata al registro processuale, mentre Franziska prende a frustate Edgeworth)
Franziska Von Karma: Risponda subito!
Jinbe (sospiro triste): Perché credevo che fosse un pirata.
Phoenix Wright: Obiezione! Questa prova è in contraddizione con questa affermazione.”
Il Giudice (occhieggia ai fogli che Phoenix stringe fra le mani): Ed in che modo sarebbe attinente?
Phoenix Wright: Queste sono una serie di interviste degli abitanti dell’Isola delle Sirene. Come ha detto l’imputato, la situazione era peggiorata in maniera sensibile negli ultimi venti anni, ma il testimone ha dimenticato di ricordarci che c’è stato anche un miglioramento, pochi anni fa.
Il Giudice: Ripeto: ed in che modo questo sarebbe attinente, signor Wright? Guardi che la penalizzo!
Phoenix Wright: E’ attinente alla questione perché… (mette le mani sui fianchi) …l’artefice di questo miglioramento delle condizioni di vita non è nient’altri che Edward Newgate Barbabianca! (Si rivolge direttamente a Jimbe, il quale lo fissa con occhi spalancati. Lo ammetta, testimone, lei ha un debito di gratitudine nei confronti di questo pirata!
(Un attimo di caos nelle tribune)
Il Giudice: Ordine! Signor Wright! Cosa significa questa cosa? Si spieghi!
Phoenix Wright: E’ semplice, Vostro Onore. Barbabianca possiede il controllo su alcune isole del Nuovo Mondo. È per questo che viene chiamato uno dei quattro imperatori.
Sengoku (malavoglia): E’ così.
Phoenix Wright: Durante le mie interviste, tutti gli abitanti dell’Isola delle Sirene hanno confermato che si è autodichiarato proprietario anche di quella stessa terra e, da quando l’ha fatto, quasi nessun pirata ha osato più toccarli.
Miles Edgeworth: Nnngh… (si accascia sul banco, si rialza) E questo cosa cambia, nel combattimento tra il testimone e l’imputato?
Phoenix Wright: Cambia due cose fondamentali. Il movente ed il risultato.
(Franziska tira una frustata a Phoenix, ma Jimbe l a blocca a metà strada, mentre Phoenix cerca di nascondersi sotto il banco)
Jinbe: Che cosa intende dire, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: Intendo dire che bisogna guardare le cose da un altro punto di vista. L’accusa ha sostenuto che Barbabianca sia venuto a salvare Ace, ma io credo che, viste le ultime notizie, in realtà abbia portato soccorso a lei, Lord Jimbe.”
Il giudice (sbatte il martelletto con forza): Sta dicendo che il testimone sia in realtà un membro dei pirati di Barbabianca?!
Phoenix Wright (Scuote la testa): No. Sto dicendo che Lord Jimbe cerca sempre, se può, di aiutare Barbabianca per la riconoscenza che prova nei suoi confronti. D’altra parte, lo stesso Barbabianca deve ritenere Lord Jimbe un suo protetto, giacché è un abitante di una delle isole di cui è patrono.
Franziska Von Karma: E quale conclusione trae da ciò, Herr Phoenix Wright?
Phoenix Wright: Io dico che il mio cliente voleva incontrare Barbabianca per battersi con lui. (sorriso) cosa che non è un reato e non dimostra che fosse un pirata. Il testimone ha cercato di impedirglielo.
Franziska Von Karma: Questa è la più stupida stupidaggine che sia uscita dalla tua stupida testa di avvocato stupido (libera la frusta dalla presa di Jimbe e la usa su Phoenix) Perché allora “Pugno di Fuoco” sarebbe poi entrato nella ciurma?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ci siamo… Accidenti, il problema è che non so come dimostrarlo!
Jinbe: Forse posso spiegarlo io… (Sorriso riconoscente)
Miles Edgeworth (le braccia incrociate): Lo faccia, testimone.
Jinbe: Quello che ha detto l’avvocato è vero. Io sono un pirata che odia i pirati, ad eccezione della ciurma di Barbabianca. È merito loro se la situazione sull’Isola degli Uomini pesce si è stabilizzata. Così, se posso, cerco di dargli una mano. (Si rivolge verso il banco dell’accusa) Scusi se non l’ho detto prima, procuratore, ma capisce bene che per un membro della Flotta dei Sette, essere amico di un Imperatore non è propriamente corretto…
Miles Edgeworth: Immagino. Ma in un tribunale la verità viene sempre a galla, ed è quella che vorrei sentire ora.
Jimbe (annuisce): Ho combattuto contro Ace perché sapevo quant’era forte e che voleva combattere contro Barbabianca.”
Phoenix Wright: Quando lui è arrivato, l’ha fatto per salvarla, allora?
Jinbe: Non esattamente. E’ arrivato perché Barbabianca non rifiuta mai una sfida. Così Ace ha fatto scappare i suoi compagni ed è rimasto a combattere contro di lui, ma ha perso.
Maya (esclamando): Cioè, dopo essersi battuto ininterrottamente con lei per cinque giorni?!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Oh mio Dio…
Jinbe: Già. Era a pezzi, ma ha salvato comunque tutta la sua ciurma, anche se alla fine non è riuscito a combinare molto. Così dopo se lo sono portati via.
Phoenix Wright (Sbatte le palpebre): Scusi, in che senso se lo sono portati via?
Jinbe: Quando Barbabianca lo ha sconfitto, lo hanno caricato sulla Moby Dick. (Pausa) Come un prigioniero.
(Il caos esplode di nuovo all’interno del tribunale)
Il Giudice (urla più forte del caos per farsi sentire): Testimone! Sta dicendo che l’imputato è stato costretto ad entrare nella ciurma?!
Un marine nel pubblico: Non ha senso! E’ il comandante della seconda flotta!
Franziska Von Karma (mena colpi a caso): Fate silenzio! Herr Jimbe, perché mai Barbabianca avrebbe imbarcato qualcuno che voleva ucciderlo?
Phoenix Wright (urla anche lui per farsi sentire): Non è ovvio?! Perché Ace è il figlio di Gold Roger, il suo più grande rivale passato. Quale migliore rivincita può esserci che prendere sotto di sé suo figlio?
Il Giudice (gridando): Basta! Basta! Non sento niente! Ordine! (la stanza torna in silenzio) Procuratore!
Miles Edgeworth (alzata di spalle): Devo ammettere che il testimone non è stato rilevante come credevo. Non solo non ci ha assicurato che l’imputato fosse un pirata, ma ci ha anche rivelato che, almeno all’inizio, è stato prigioniero di pirati.
Phoenix Wright: E quindi è innocente!
(La faccia viene colpita da una frusta)
Franziska Von Karma: Al tempo, Herr Phoenix Wright. Finora è stato dimostrato che era un prigioniero all’inizio. Ma dopo?
Il Giudice (annuisce): L’accusa ha ragione, ma anche la difesa stranamente non ha del tutto torto…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Come sarebbe a dire stranamente..?
Phoenix Wright: Ma purtroppo non si può dimostrare il contrario. Non possiamo certo chiamare a testimoniare un pirata di Barbabianca, dopo saremo costretti ad arrestarlo!
Miles Edgeworth (inchino): A dire la verità, qualcuno che può testimoniare riguardo a questo c’è.
Il Giudice: E chi?
Miles Edgeworth: Ammetto di non aver previsto questa eventualità, ma vedo che è indispensabile. Chiedo che sia ammesso a testimoniare Marshall D. Teach, nuovo membro della Flotta dei Sette!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Accidenti… Ora sì che siamo fregati!
12 Ottobre, ore 11.43
Enies Lobby
Torre di Destra
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Ema Skye)
(Scenografia: una stanza vuota con pareti di pietra)
(Situazione: Phoenix parla con Ema, Maya è andata da qualche parte)
Ema Skye: Non c’è niente che si possa fare, ora?
Phoenix Wright: Purtroppo no. I fatti sono fatti: Teach sa benissimo che Ace è un pirata e ha combattuto contro di lui su ordine di Barbabianca. Se finora sono riuscito a trovare delle contraddizioni, è perché queste c’erano. Ma non riesco davvero a trovarne una solida per questo…
Lotta (voce fuori scienza): Ohi, amico, stai proprio giù!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Conosco questa voce…
(Compare Lotta)
Phoenix Wright: Lotta! Che ci fai qui?
Lotta: Come, che ci faccio? Sono una reporter d’assalto, esperta in casi di pirateria!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ah, sì..?
Lotta: Non mi sarei persa questa notizia per nulla al mondo! E ho fatto bene, quello che hai rivelato in ‘sta seduta è un enorme scoop! A dire la verità, mi dispiace… Tutte le volte che sono stata coinvolta nei tuoi casi, ti ho messo nei guai…
Phoenix Wright: E’ vero. Ma è anche vero che spesso le tue foto sono servite alle mie dimostrazioni…
Lotta: Be’, spero di poterti essere d’aiuto ancora. (Estrae dalla sua borsa un pacco di fogli) Queste sono una serie di interviste che ho raccolto prima dell’inizio del processo.
Phoenix Wright (Guarda i nomi degli intervistati): Ma ci sono anche dei membri della ciurma di Barbanera. Lotta, forse mi hai salvato stavolta!
12 Ottobre, 12.30
Enies Lobby
Tribunale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth e Franziska Von Karma, l’intera Marina sugli spalti, Teach già sul banco dei testimoni)
(Scenografia: aula di tribunale, con la maggior parte del pubblico di marine)
(Situazione: Phoenix è al banco della difesa, Teach mangia crostate al banco; Maya arriva di corsa prima dell’inizio della seduta, Ace si sta mordendo le labbra a sangue)
Miles Edgeworth (una mano sul banco): Testimone, nome e professione E la smetta di ingozzarsi di dolci.
Marshall D. Teach (ride): Zheahah. Dovrebbe assaggiarne un po’ anche lei, è buona e le farebbe bene alla salute.
Miles Edgeworth: E-Ehi!
Marshall D. Teach: Mi chiamo Marshall D. Teach, meglio conosciuto come Barbanera. (trangugia il boccone che aveva in bocca) Attualmente, sono un membro della Flotta dei Sette.
Il Giudice: Bene, testimone. Suppongo che l’accusa le abbia parlato della testimonianza del suo collega, Lord Jimbe. Vorremo sapere da lei il resto della storia.
Marshall D. Teach: Ma certo. (Ride) Quello che ha detto il pesciolone è assolutamente vero, all’inizio Ace non era per niente felice di essere stato imbarcato sulla Moby Dick. Ha anche provato ad uccidere più volte il babbo, senza mai riuscirci. Ma come ho detto, questo è stato all’inizio. Non molto dopo, Ace è diventato uno degli uomini più fedeli di Barbabianca. Dopotutto, non è attualmente il comandante della seconda flotta? Non l’avremo certo affidata ad un prigioniero.
Miles Edgeworth (inchino): Si può avere più certezza di così?
Il Giudice: Effettivamente, l’accusa è precisa e perfetta come al solito. Ma diamo al signor Wright la possibilità di rendersi ridicolo. Prego, inizi pure il suo contro interrogatorio.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Grazie, eh, Vostro Onore…
Phoenix Wright: Lei non è mai stato un comandante di flotta, no?” chiesi.
Marshall D. Teach: No, amico. Ho sempre cercato di mantenere un basso profilo.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non mi risulta di essere tuo amico…
Phoenix Wright: E riguardo agli altri comandanti? Pensa che siano più forti dell’imputato?
Marshall D. Teach: Non saprei dirlo con certezza… Marco e Jaws probabilmente sì, e forse qualcuno degli altri…”
Phoenix Wright: Quindi, nonostante Ace fosse un comandante, questo non significa che potesse davvero ribellarsi…
Marshall D. Teach: Zheahah. (Ride) Amico, stai cercando di dire che il comandante Ace abbia accettato tutto solo perché non aveva altra scelta?
Phoenix Wright: Esattamente. (Annuisce) Non è mai stato un pirata, ma è stato costretto da Barbabianca. (Estrae la cartella con la lista dei reati) A detta di questi rapporti, fin da quando è entrato in ciurma, Ace ha sempre lavorato da solo, e sempre per sconfiggere altri pirati, esattamente come faceva prima. Questo dimostra che non aveva affatto affiatamento con il resto della ciurma e, per quanto poteva, ha cercato di rimanere nei limiti della legalità. (Sbatte le mani sul tavolo) Anche la battaglia con lei rientra in questo schema. Da solo, il più lontano possibile dagli altri, e a battere un altro pirata!”
Marshall D. Teach: Una bella storia, amico, non c’è che dire. Peccato che non sia possibile.
Phoenix Wright: E perché?
Miles Edgeworth: Per un semplice motivo. Il qui presente testimone aveva chiesto all’imputato di diventare un suo compagno, prima di sconfiggerlo. Se davvero avesse accettato di entrare nella ciurma di Barbabianca perché costretto, come sostiene lei, perché non ha accettato la proposta del signor Marshall, piuttosto che finire in questa situazione?
Marshall D. Teach: E’ proprio come dice l’amico procuratore. Ma invece di tradire Barbabianca, il mio caro comandante preferisce farsi condannare a morte. Che testardo, eh? A dire la verità, sono piuttosto sorpreso che abbia acconsentito a farsi difendere. È come rinnegare tutto ciò che è.
Satch (voce fuori campo): Come tu hai rinnegato i vent’anni che ha passato con la ciurma?
(Maya aveva appena evocato un uomo con i capelli biondi pettinati con un ricciolo davanti, ripreso anche nel pizzetto, ed una sola ciocca nera)
Il Giudice (sbatte le palpebre): Chi è questo, ora?
Satch: Sono Satch, il comandante della quarta flotta dei pirati di Barbabianca.” (Rivolto a Barbanera) L’uomo che tu hai ucciso, solo per rubarmi un maledettissimo frutto del diavolo.
Marine attorno: Che accidenti è?
Tsuru: Sembra che quella ragazzina conosca la tecnica dell’evocazione Kurain,” mormorò il viceammiraglio Tsuru. Garp: Quell’avvocato è pieno di risorse.”
Kizaru (sorridendo): Oooh… Spaventoso…
Satch: Hai passato più di vent’anni nella nostra ciurma. Fingendoti un nostro compagno, un amico, un fratello… E poi ci hai pugnalato tutti alle spalle. Credi di essere il più adatto a testimoniare sulla fedeltà di qualcuno? (Scocca un’occhiata a Phoenix) Ace è stato costretto ad entrare nella ciurma. Si è comportato bene, lo devo ammettere, ma dopo quello che tu hai fatto, non mi sentirei di giurare che sia stato completamente onesto.
Franziska Von Karma: Obiezione! (Colpisce Teach con la frusta tanto da fargli cadere il pezzo di crostata rimasta. Teach scoppia a ridere.)
Marshall D. Teach: Guarda se quello non è il mio vecchio compagno! (La sua voce si indurisce, ed il suo sorriso diventa malefico) Ma non puoi salvare Ace. Se davvero non fosse stato leale, a quest’ora si sarebbe unito a me, è evidente. E non mi sarebbe per niente dispiaciuto! (Ride) Specialmente ora che so di chi è figlio!
Phoenix Wright (Stringe i pugni): E se l’imputato avesse avuto un’altra ragione per non potersi arrendere, questa volta?
Il Giudice: Che intende, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: Intendo dire che il mio cliente aveva un motivo per non poter accettare la proposta del testimone. Qualcosa che lo costringeva a combattere fino all’ultimo, anche a costo della sua stessa vita. Un motivo che non c’entra nulla con la lealtà nei confronti di Barbabianca.
Il Giudice: E cioè? Su, signor Wright, mi mostri una prova di questo motivo!
Phoenix Wright: Ecco! (Estrae da sotto il banco una taglia e la mostra a tutti)
Il Giudice (sbatte le palpebre, stupito): Quello è… Rufy Cappello di Paglia, no? E cosa c’entra con quello di cui stiamo discutendo?
Phoenix Wright: C’entra perché la persona che il signor Marshall avrebbe voluto consegnare ai marine era proprio lui. Questo perché, per prendere il posto di Crocodile, pensava che la soluzione migliore fosse catturare colui che lo aveva sconfitto. Lo vuole negare, testimone? Non lo faccia. (Sbatte dei fogli sul tavolo) Ho qui delle affermazioni dei membri della sua ciurma che lo confermano.
Marshall D. Teach (serio): Non lo nego.
Phoenix Wright: Per questo Ace non poteva lasciarla andare, e non poteva unirsi a lei. Se l’avesse fatto, lei sarebbe andato a caccia di Rufy Cappello di Paglia… Ovvero, a caccia di suo fratello minore!
Il Giudice: COSA?!
Phoenix Wright: Ebbene, testimone? Non è forse vero che lei abbia spiegato il suo piano al mio cliente? E non è forse vero che lui abbia rifiutato dicendo che doveva proteggere suo fratello? Se si fosse arreso, sulla sedia degli imputati ci sarebbe Cappello di Paglia adesso.
Marshall D. Teach: Oh, questo è sicuro. Chi l’avrebbe mai detto che era il fratellino del mio vecchio comandante? Quel ragazzino ha una fortuna sfacciata!
Ace: Tieni giù le mani da mio fratello!
(La porta del tribunale si apre ed una serie di ufficiali della marina entra ballando e danzando.
Uno di loro esegue da fermo un triplo salto mortale, atterrando con leggerezza sul banco della giuria; un’altra cavalca una tigre come se fosse l’animale più docile del mondo; un altro tiene in mano una bambola di marine che lo prendeva a pugni. Infine, l’ultimo appare volando nel cielo fino ad atterrare di fronte al giudice, con un piccolo inchino, spargendo carte da gioco e stelline attorno a sé)
Il Giudice: V-Voi… Non siete marine, vero?
Maximillian Galattica : Ma no! Io sono il grande, fantastico e meraviglioso Maximillian Galattica, e questi sono i miei stupendi compagni del miglior circo del mondo, il Big Berry Circus!
(Tutti gli altri circensi si mettono a salutare allegramente le tribune.
Ace cerca di trattenere le risa, il viceammiraglio Garp a scoppia in un ruggito, seguito prontamente da altre voci, tra le quali quella di Ema e di Lotta. Persino lo stesso Barbanera è divertito dalla situazione.
Una frustata da parte di Franziska a Max.)
Maximillian Galattica: ARGH!
Franziska Von Karma: E che diavolo ci fate qui in tribunale, conciati in questa maniera stupida, stupidissimi stupidi artisti di uno stupido circo?!
Maximillian Galattica: Dolcezza, calma. Siamo qui su ordine del signor Wright.
Il Giudice (tuona): Signor Wright! Che cosa significa questo?!
Phoenix Wright: Ehm… Ecco…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non ne ho la minima idea!!
Mia (Maya l’ha evocata): La difesa ha appena scardinato un altro dei punti dell’accusa. Se non sbaglio, il Grand’Ammiraglio aveva affermato che “se uno ha un Jolly Roger è un pirata, se ha una divisa è un marine”. Ma questo è chiaramente in contraddizione con quello che abbiamo davanti.
Godot (in tribuna, assapora l’aroma della sua tazza): E’ inutile, una bevanda scura non può essere caffè se non è preparato con chicchi tostati
(Godot lancia la tazza a Sengoku, il quale però la schiva agilmente; la tazza colpiscee l’ammiraglio Kizaru.
Al suo fianco, Akainu tira un sospirò profondo, quindi fa lentamente sciogliere le sue braccia in magma)
Maximillian Galattica: (rabbrividisce): E’ ora di tentare il nostro grande trucco! La sparizione!
(Un’agitata del mantello della divisa, e si alza una fitta nebbia: quando scompare, anche tutti i membri del circo spariscono)
Il Giudice (ruggisce): Signor Wright! Come al solito, quando c’è lei in aula, succedono casini! Si spieghi!
Phoenix Wright: C-Capo…
Mia: Che stai aspettando, Phoenix? Devi difendere il tuo cliente, non sprecare l’occasione che ti ha dato Maya.
Phoenix Wright (annuisce, quindi si sporge in avanti con le mani sul banco.): Come vede, Vostro Onore, ho appena dimostrato che non basta un Jolly Roger ad accusare qualcuno di pirateria. (Raddrizza la schiena) La realtà è che l’accusa non ha ancora portato una sola prova per dimostrare che il mio cliente è un pirata. Anche quest’ultima testimonianza non è accettabile, una volta scoperto che Ace cercava solo di proteggere il fratello!
Il Giudice (mormorando): E’ innegabilmente vero…
Akainu: COSA?!
Miles Edgworth: Sì, ma vale anche il contrario). Alzata di spalle. Nemmeno la difesa ha presentato prove evidenti che l’imputato non sia un pirata.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Accidenti, speravo che non se ne accorgesse…
Il Giudice: E anche questo è innegabile. Sono costretto ad aggiornare il processo, perché in queste condizioni non posso emettere una sentenza. E soprattutto, devo riprendermi da tutte le notizie shock che ho ricevuto oggi.”
Sengoku: COSA?!
Il Giudice: Per la prossima seduta, pretendo che l’accusa e la difesa mi portino solide prove delle loro tesi. (Sbatte il martelletto) L’udienza è tolta.
12 Ottobre, Ore 13.35
Enies Lobby
Torre di Destra
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya)
(Scenografia: stanza vuota con i muri di pietra)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya si trovano lì dopo il processo)
Maya (esclamando): Evviva, Nick! Ce l’abbiamo fatta… Quasi.
Phoenix Wright: E’ stata la tua idea geniale. Davvero, grazie.
Maya: L’importante è il cliente, no? Ho fatto ben di peggio per il signor Edgeworth!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Peggio di far entrare in tribunale uno spettacolo da circo..?
(Entrano Lotta, Godot e Ema)
Phoenix Wright: Lotta, non ci posso credere, mi hai salvato, per una volta! (Phoenix abbraccia Lotta)
Lotta (arrabbiata): Come, per una volta?
Phoenix Wright (a Ema e Godot): Grazie anche a voi, ragazzi.
Ema Skye: Tutto merito dell’indagine scientifica.
Godot (cenno del capo): La battaglia non è ancora finita.
Phoenix Wright (annuisce): Già, lo so. Ma se non altro ho un po’ di tempo per preparare una linea di difesa efficiente.
Maya e Ema sky assieme: Conta su di noi!
(Risata allegra da fuori scena. Compare il viceammiraglio Garp sull’uscio con la sua enorme stazza)
Garp: Quando ho saputo di questa storia, sapevo che ci sarebbe stato da divertirsi,” disse. “Ma non immaginavo così tanto. Lei è riuscito a far arrabbiare Sengoku più di quanto ci sia mai riuscito Cappello di Paglia. È un grande record. (Ride di nuovo)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Questa notizia dovrebbe consolarmi..?
Garp: Complimenti, è un ottimo avvocato. (Si avvicina e stringe la mano con forza a Phoenix)
Phoenix Wright: Grazie mille, sono onorato che l’eroe della marina lo pensi
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Anche se mi sta stritolando la mano…
Garp: Avrei preferito che la notizia sul padre di Ace non fosse stata rivelata, ma vedo bene che non c’erano alternative.
Phoenix Wright: Infatti…
Garp: Coraggio per la prossima udienza. (Si avvia per andarsene)
Phoenix Wright: Mi perdoni, viceammiraglio. Non so perché, ma ho la netta impressione che lei vorrebbe vedermi vincere questa causa.
(Garp si volta a guardare Phoenix: le spalle sono incurvate, non sta più ridendo.
Due lucchetti psichici appaiono.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Oh, accidenti…
Garp: Credo che si sbagli, avvocato. Perché mai dovrei volere la salvezza di un pirata?
Phoenix Wright: Già, ha ragione.
Maya (dopo che Garp ha lasciato la stanza) Nick, qualcosa non va? Credi che stia nascondendo qualcosa?
Phoenix Wright (annuisce): Già, ma non lo posso provare.
Maya: E allora andiamo a cercare indizi, coraggio!
Ema Skye (mentre Maya e Phoenix fanno per uscire): Ah, signor Phoenix. Mi chiami, le potrei essere utile con le indagini scientifiche!
12 Ottobre, ore 14.15
Enies Lobby
Stazione
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya)
(Scenografia: ingresso di Enies Lobby, sui binari del treno)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya attendono il treno sui binari e vengono avvicinati dal viceammiraglio Comir)
Phoenix Wright: Signor Comir.
(Phoeni porge la mano, Comir non ricambia)
Comir (non lo guarda): Non lo faccia.
Phoenix Wright (interdetto): Fare cosa?”
Comir (amaramente): Dare false speranze a quel ragazzo. Quello che succederà il giorno della sua esecuzione sarà abbastanza spaventoso per lui, non complichiamogli le cose in questo modo. Sa quanto me che non ci sono possibilità.
Phoenix Wright: Capisco (annuisce) Ma non posso certo arrendermi, specie perché credo nel mio cliente e nelle ultime possibilità che ci sono rimaste.
Comir (incredulo): Lei… Crede nel suo cliente?
Maya: Certo! Ace è innocente!
Comir (sorride mestamente): Già, vorrei crederci anche io…
Phoenix Wright: Che intende?”
(Rumore di catene e due lucchetti rossi scintillanti appaiono)
Phoenix Wright: Lasci perdere. Maya, andiamo.
(Il treno arriva. Maya e Phoenix salgono a bordo e si siedono)
Phoenix Wright: un lungo sospiro. Che cosa credi che dovremo fare adesso?
Maya: Trovare nuovi indizi, no?
Phoenix Wright: Certo. E qualche idea su dove iniziare?
Maya: No.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Be’, questo mi è molto utile…
Maya: Però so a chi chiederlo.
(Maya evoca Mia)
Phoenix Wright: C-Capo…
Mia (solito sorriso rassicurante): Cos’è quella faccia depressa? Non hai ancora perso il processo. Ed ora è compito tuo di stare allegro per dare fiducia al tuo cliente.
Phoenix Wright: Hai ragione… Volevo chiederti scusa per aver accettato questo caso, immagino che tu non sia molto d’accordo…
Mia (scuote la testa): Ho fiducia in te, Phoenix. Segui sempre la strada giusta, e questa volta non fa eccezione. Ora parliamo di quello che c’è da fare mentre aspettiamo la nuova udienza. Hai qualche sistema per contattare Barbabianca?
Phoenix Wright: Ehm… No.
Mia: Meglio così. Più terremo nascosti i nostri contatti con lui, meglio sarà. Ace può anche essere innocente, ma Barbabianca non lo è di sicuro. E se si scopre chi è stato ad assumerti, tutto il castello instabile su cui ci stiamo arrampicando crollerà.
Phoenix Wright: Edgeworth lo sa. Per fortuna posso contare su di lui. Se non ne ha parlato oggi, non credo lo farà la prossima volta. Ma questo non risolve il problema. Se non posso interrogare nessuno dei pirati, come posso trovare delle contraddizioni nella storia piratesca di Ace?
Mia: Nessuna possibilità di chiederlo direttamente a lui?
Phoenix Wright: Diciamo che… L’Ammiraglio Akainu mi ha fatto capire che se ci avessi provato mi avrebbe trasformato in cenere di avvocato.
Mia (scuote la testa); Senza contare che devi avere anche il tempo di indagare per conto tuo e trovare altri testimoni… Mi è venuta un’idea.
16 Ottobre, ore 10.00
Nuovo Mondo
Isola di Nail
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Satch nel corpo di Maya)
(Scenografia: posto desolato e brullo, disabitato ad eccezione di qualche allevatore di capre, tracce del combattimento fra Ace e Jinbe)
(Situazione: la zona è piena di investigatori che stanno esaminando minuziosamente la zona; Satch rimane indietro mentre Phoenix si avvicina, e appare il Detective Gumshoe)
Gumshoe: Ehi, amico, che ci fai qui?!
Phoenix Wright: Buongiorno, detective Gumshoe… Sto indagando. E lei?
Gumshoe (soddisfatto): Il signor Edgeworth mi ha incaricato delle operazioni qui nel Nuovo Mondo. Ha intenzione di esaminare tutta la rotta percorsa da Portuguese D. Ace dall’inizio, per trovare dei possibili testimoni per l’accusa. La signorina Von Karma è andata apposta alla Reverse Mountain, mentre il signor Edgeworth sta verificando nelle isole dove Barbanera è passato di sicuro.”
Phoenix Wright: Perché?
Gumshoe: Ehi, amico, non vorrà copiare la strategia del signor Edgeworth, vero?!
Phoenix Wright: N-No…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehi, calma…
Phoenix Wright: Ero solo interessato, visto che io non sono riuscito esattamente a ricostruire il percorso, anche utilizzando i dossier della marina…
Gumshoe: Aah… Ma lo sa che, al contrario suo, il signor Edgeworth ha un sacco di risorse…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Scusa se sono solo un povero avvocato difensore, per altro in bolletta!
Gumshoe: Quindi lo ha chiesto direttamente all’imputato.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E sarebbero queste le grandi risorse di Edgeworth?! “Però non è riuscito a cavarne un ragno da un buco... Le informazioni sono più misere della mia busta paga…”
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Il che è tutto dire…
Phoenix Wright: Vuole dire che Ace non ha detto nulla?
Gumshoe: Niente. Si è totalmente rifiutato di parlare, nonostante tutto. Il signor Edgeworth è uscito da Impel Down sconvolto…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E la cosa non mi stupisce…
Gumshoe: Così abbiamo dovuto mettere assieme le informazioni che avevamo per cercare di ricostruire un percorso probabile. (Passa una piantina in cui sono segnati in rosso i tre percorsi che erano stati compiuti: quello che aveva più parti vuote era l’ultimo, l’epoca della caccia a Barbanera) Ecco, amico, le farò un favore, visto che è disperato. Tanto non potrà trovare niente che noi non abbiamo già esaminato.
Phoenix Wright: Be’, grazie. Ace ha per caso detto qualcosa su di me, che lei sappia?
Gumshoe: No. Non l’ha proprio nominata.
(Phoenix torna verso Satch, con il foglio in mano)
Satch: Cos’è quel muso lungo? Davvero si aspettava dei ringraziamenti dopo quello che ha fatto?
Phoenix Wright: A parte tentare di salvargli la vita?
Satch (alza le spalle): So che lo fa a fin di bene, per questo l’ho appoggiata in aula. Ma, seriamente, ha affermato davanti a tutti che Ace odiasse il babbo... Cioè la persona che ammira di più al mondo. Senza contare che ha spifferato a tutti la verità su suo padre. Non può certo aspettarsi che sia proprio soddisfatto della situazione.
Phoenix Wright: Ripeto, stavo solo cercando di salvargli la vita. Possibile che l’orgoglio sia più importante?
Satch: Non si tratta di orgoglio. Si tratta di rimanere fedeli ai propri principi fino alla fine.”
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E non è la stessa cosa..?
Satch: Lei difende solo gli innocenti, no? Ci pensi: non verrebbe meno a questo principio mai.
(Phoenix impallidisce)
Satch: Non mi si deprima, avvocato. (Una pacca sulla spalla) Ora che abbiamo iniziato questa strada, dobbiamo portarla avanti. Farò di tutto per aiutarla a salvare Ace, specie considerando che è in questa situazione a causa mia.
Phoenix Wright: Va bene, grazie. Che ne pensi di quella lista?
Satch: Il percorso in blu è esatto. La cosa non mi sorprende: come uno dei quattro Imperatori, il babbo è sorvegliato costantemente. La linea verde rappresenterebbe invece il percorso iniziale di Ace, no? Mi sembra giusto, almeno per quanto mi ha raccontato.
Phoenix Wright: E per quanto riguarda quello rosso?
Satch: Non ne ho idea.
Phoenix Wright: Lo fissai con gli occhi spalancati. “Che cooosa?!”
Satch: Ehi, non urli, avvocato. (Si tappa le orecchie. Che cosa pretende? Ero morto in quel periodo. Anzi, a dire la verità sono ancora morto…
Phoenix Wright: Ah, giusto, mi spiace…
Satch: Però qui c’è un errore. Manca un’isola tra questo punto e questo punto.
Phoenix Wright: Bene! Ci può essere utile?
Satch: Direi di sì. (Sorrisetto) E’ l’isola dove abbiamo bruciato la nave degli Spade Pirates.
18 Ottobre, ore 16.00
Nuovo Mondo
Isola di Wanokuni
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Satch nel corpo di Maya)
(Scenografia: spiaggia rocciosa di un’isola)
(Situazione: Phoenix segue Satch dentro un’insenatura, alla fine della quale, oltre una serie di resti sbocconcellati di muri, si apre una profonda grotta)
Phoenix Wright: Quindi è qui che avete catturato il resto della ciurma?
Satch: Non l’ho mai detto.
Phoenix Wright (lo fissa stranito): E allora cos’è successo qui?
Satch: Come ti ho detto, è dove abbiamo bruciato la nave. Flames, si chiamava, se non ricordo male. E’ successo quando Ace ha deciso definitivamente di entrare nella ciurma, e farsi quel tatuaggio sulla schiena. Ha deciso che doveva dare un taglio alla sua vecchia vita. L’incendio della nave è un rito di passaggio.
(Afferra per un braccio Phoenix, impedendogli di scivolare e capitolare per terra)
Satch: Non è molto atletico, eh, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ringrazia che ho chiesto a Maya di mettersi dei vestiti maschili, altrimenti volevo vederti con la sua gonna qui..!
Satch: Il resto della ciurma era già con noi da un pezzo.
(Arrivano nella parte più interna della grotta, dove c’era una nicchia nella quale si trovava un forziere.
Satch si avvicina per aprirlo)
Phoenix Wright: Ma non erano scappati?
Satch: Sì, all’inizio. Ma quando si accorsero che avevamo preso il loro capitano, non ci hanno pensato un attimo a tornare indietro a battersi con noi (Si volta verso Phoenix, sorridendo) Ace è una persona talmente speciale.
Phoenix Wright: Come mai Barbabianca lo ha voluto così tanto a bordo? (fa luce con la torcia) Da quello che so, all’inizio è stata una spina nel fianco.
Satch (scoppia a ridere): Oh, può dirlo, ma era anche molto divertente. Sinceramente, non so perché il babbo si fosse fissato con lui, ma credo semplicemente che lo trovasse simpatico. È difficile non pensarla così, se lo si conosce. (Porge a Phoenix un pacchetto avvolto in uno spago) Ecco, tenga.
Phoenix Wright: Che cos’è? (Piano, sciolglie il sacchetto e scopre che si tratta di una stoffa nera rappresentante il Jolly Roger degli Spade Pirates, che avvolge una tavola di legno abbrustolito) Una specie di ossario?
Satch: Sì, una tomba. E’ una forma di rispetto per una nave che li aveva accompagnati per così tanto tempo. L’hanno fatta solo loro, in privato.
Phoenix Wright: Per loro intendi gli Spade Pirates?
Satch: Sì. Dopo la decisione di Ace, non c’è stato nessuno che abbia voluto andarsene, anche se lui non aveva imposto limitazioni. Dopotutto, anche la nostra è una ciurma fantastica. (Sorride soddisfatto)
Phoenix Wright: Esattamente, dove avete combattuto con il resto della ciurma?
Satch: In mare aperto. La loro nave era più leggera, ci hanno raggiunto abbastanza in fretta. Ce la siamo trascinata dietro fino a qui.
23 Ottobre, ore 15.00
Tempio Hazakura
Salone principale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Iris)
(Scenografia: salone principale del tempio, con il fornello al centro, il vassoio con biscotti e il necessario per il tè e i cuscini per sedersi)
(Situazione: Iris sta servendo una tazza di tè bollente mentre Phoenix si rilassa sui cuscini)
Iris: Ecco, Fennie (Gli passa la tazza di tè fumante)
Phoenix Wright: Grazie.
(Prende uno dei biscotti che erano posti sul vassoio e lo inghiotte).
Iris (sorseggia la bevanda per un attimo): Allora, come va il caso?
Phoenix Wright: Urgh!
(Il biscotto gli va quasi di traverso)
Iris: Immaginavo ci fosse qualche problema. Se vuoi, puoi sfogarti. Ti ascolto.
Phoenix Wright: Il processo va malissimo, non sono mai stato così in alto mare, giusto per restare in termini pirateschi. Non ho trovato un singolo indizio. Senza contare che sto facendo tutti questi sforzi per uno che mi odia per quello che ho fatto uscire al processo. Il mio cliente mi odia e non vuole essere difeso da me!
(Beve il tè tutto d’un fiato e si brucia)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Scotta!!
Iris: Fennie! Tutto bene? Stai facendo un sacco di facce strane…
Phoenix Wright (a fatica): T-Tutto… A p-posto…
Iris: Comunque, secondo me non ti devi preoccupare. (Posa la tazzina sul piatto) Tu sei un fantastico avvocato perché credi nel tuo cliente. Non importa, qualunque cosa succederà in tribunale, te la saprai cavare, perché il legame fra lui e te è più importante di qualsiasi cosa. (Sorride) La fiducia che dai al tuo cliente, diventa la fiducia che il cliente ripone in te. Sono sicura che alla fine ti ringrazierà. (Arrosssce) Almeno, per me è stato così.
Phoenix Wright: Oh, Iris…
Iris (si allunga a stringergli le mani): Vedrai che andrà tutto bene. Devi credere in te stesso. E credere nel tuo cliente come hai fatto con me, nonostante tutto quello che ti avevo fatto…
Phoenix Wright: Oh, Iris…
Iris: Oh, Fennie…
Bikini (voce fuori campo): Etchù!
(Sia Phoenix sia Iris sussultano e si girano per vedere sorella Bikini seduta fra di loro)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma da quanto tempo è qui?!
Bikini: Wha ah ah, non fate caso a me, ragazzi. Continuate pure.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Te lo scordi!
Iris (si nasconde il viso con le mani, arrossendo): M-ma… Sorella Bikini…
Phoenix Wright: Guardi, Iris mi stava solo aiutando a rilassarmi, sa, per via del processo…
Bikini: Oh, già, quel caro ragazzo… Spero proprio che tu riesca a salvarlo, sai?
Iris (riempendo di nuovo la tazza): Fennie ce la farà, ne sono sicura.
Phoenix Wright: Lo spero. (Sorseggia il tè)
Bikini: Sei riuscito a salvare Iris nonostante la mia testimonianza. Riuscirai a salvare anche quel caro ragazzo… Non riesco ad immaginare come qualcuno possa pensare che sia un pirata. È così gentile ed educato..! Certo, un po’ troppo scavezzacollo, ma-
Phoenix Wright: Aspetti un attimo. Perché sta parlando come se lo conoscesse?
Bikini: Perché è così.
Phoenix Wright: Puah! (Il resto del tè finisce sui pantaloni) Cosa? L’ha incontrato? Quando? Come? Dove? Perché?!
Iris: Fennie… (Pone una mano sulla spalla di Phoenix per cercare di calmarlo)
Bikini: Qui al tempio, dove vuoi che io l’abbia incontrato?
Phoenix Wright: Mi racconti tutto, la prego.
Bikini: Dunque, vediamo… Sarà stato meno di tre anni fa.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Quindi Ace non era ancora nella ciurma di Barbabianca… Ma che ci faceva qui, visto che non dava ancora la caccia a Barbanera?
Bikini: Iris non c’era, non ricordo perché. Era una giornata uggiosa, ma avevo deciso comunque di stendere i panni. Ma poi era scoppiato un terribile acquazzone, ed il mio povero bucato…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehm, va bene che ho detto tutto, ma non esageriamo…
Bikini: Mentre ero intenta a toglierlo, con la mia schiena che implorava pietà, è arrivato lui. Era più zuppo di me, ma mi ha aiutato comunque. Così, per ringraziarlo, gli ho dato ospitalità per la notte. (Breve sospiro) Era un ragazzo così gentile, sempre a dire ‘grazie’ e ‘per favore’… Chiunque l’abbia educato deve aver fatto un buon lavoro.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Chiunque l’abbia educato..?
Phoenix Wright: Ha visto se aveva già il tatuaggio sulla schiena?
Bikini: Tatuaggio? Non saprei, aveva una camicia e non se l’è mai tolta.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Wow, Ace con qualcosa addosso… Questo sì che è strano!
Phoenix Wright: Sorella, è proprio sicura che quello fosse il mio cliente?.
Bikini: Certo che ne sono sicura! Non sono ancora così arteriosclerotica, sai? È vero che non si è nemmeno presentato, ma-
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Come, non si è nemmeno presentato?!
Bikini: In effetti, non mi ha mai detto il suo nome. Era sera tardi quand’è arrivato, ed è ripartito all’alba. Ho ricollegato che era lui quando ho visto la foto sul giornale che leggeva Iris, quello riferito al suo processo. Non mi scordo certo un ragazzo così bello! (Scoppia a ridere) Se solo fossi stata più giovane..!
(Phoenix abbassa il viso sconsolato.
Iris gli stringe di nuovo la mano)
Iris: Coraggio Fennie… Almeno hai un’altra conferma della fiducia meritata del tuo cliente. La verità uscirà in tribunale.
Bikini: Perché non vai a chiedere al villaggio Kurain. Loro forse l’hanno visto. (Phoenix la fissa con occhi spalancati) Oh, hai ragione, mi sono scordata di dirti la ragione per la quale quel caro ragazzo era venuto fin qui. Voleva sapere qualcosa sul potere spirituale, credeva che insegnassimo ad usarlo.
Phoenix Wright: Per quale motivo?
Bikini: Non me l’ha detto.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Un altro punto dell’identificazione che non può essere sfruttato…
Bikini: Gli ho spiegato che i poteri spirituali non si insegnano, si possiedono fin dalla nascita, e se voleva evocare uno spirito doveva chiedere alle donne del villaggio Kurain. Gli ho dato indicazioni stradali, forse poi ci è andato.
Phoenix Wright: Ma Maya avrebbe dovuto incontrarlo!
Iris: Tre anni fa non era già tua assistente, la Mistica Maya?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Accidentaccio, è vero…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ace, però almeno il nome a sorella Bikini potevi dirlo!!
23 Ottobre, ore 18.30
Villaggio Kurain
Fey Manor
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya)
(Scenografia: l’ingresso della villa dei Fey)
(Situazione: Phoenix viene accolto sulla soglia da Maya)
Maya: Niiick! Ben arrivato! Ti sei un po’ ripreso da Isis? (Occhiolino)
Phoenix Wright (soddisfatto): Ho avuto l’illuminazione della giornata. E non per la ragione che pensi tu! Ace potrebbe essere stato qui, al villaggio Kurain.
Maya (lo fissa con gli occhi spalancati: Cooooosa?! Questa è bella… Forse io ero da te, ma non ho sentito nessuno parlarne… Ah, potremo provare a chiederlo a Pearl.
Phoenix Wright: Credi che possa saperne qualcosa?
Maya: Se non è con noi è qui, quindi è sicuramente la più informata. E tre anni fa aveva già più confidenza a parlare con gli estranei.
(Vanno a cercare Pearl. La trovano Pearl che gioca con la palla nel giardino)
Pearl: Signor Nick! Finalmente! Non deve far aspettare così tanto la Mistica Maya!
Phoenix Wright: Ascoltami bene, Pearl. (Estrae l’avviso di taglia e lo mostra a Pearl). Hai mai visto questa persona?
(Pearl osserva attentamente la fotografia. Poi sorride)
Pearl: Certo! È quel cowboy di cui ti avevo parlato, Mistica Maya. Quello che è stato qui qualche mese fa.
Phoenix Wright: Cowboy..? (Si volta verso Maya)
Maya: Oh! Sì, mi ricordo che me ne avevi parlato, ma non avevo collegato… Che fosse Ace. Sapevo solo che era un bel ragazzo che girava senza maglia, con un coltello alla cintura ed un cappello da cowboy in testa. Credevo fosse un normale viaggiatore…
Pearl (triste): Ho forse fatto qualcosa di male..?
Phoenix Wright: No, no. Solo… Puoi raccontarmi perfettamente come hai incontrato questo cowboy?
Pearl: E’ venuto qui al villaggio, una volta… Cercava qualcuno che usasse la tecnica di evocazione… Ma la Mistica Maya non c’era, e io non sapevo come chiamarla… Allora mi disse che avrebbe aspettato un paio di giorni…
Phoenix Wright: E lo ha fatto?
Pearl: Sì… (Annuisce) Ma la seconda mattina ha detto che doveva andare… Gli ho detto che forse potevo aiutarlo io, ma aveva cambiato idea…
Phoenix Wright: Sull’evocazione, intendi? E chi voleva evocare?
Pearl: La mamma… (È sul punto di piangere) E così stavo pensando alla mia… E a quella della mistica Maya che era morta da poco e… e…
Maya: Oh, Pearl… (La abbraccia) Non fare così…
Immaginavo che il motivo fosse la madre, Portuguese D. Rouge, ma mi chiedevo perché avesse poi cambiato idea: forse la paura di incontrarla e di sentirsi colpevole per la sua morte aveva avuto il sopravvento?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Aspetta un attimo… forse la paura di incontrarla e di sentirsi colpevole per la sua morte ha avuto il sopravvento? Ace può provare paura? Allora è umano dopotutto!
Phoenix Wright: Scusami… Quando è accaduto tutto questo?
Maya: Oh, è una cosa recente. Sarà successa un paio di mesi fa, tre al massimo.
Phoenix Wright: Bene, vuol dire che qualcuno qui se ne ricorderà. Andiamo a chiedere in giro.
Maya (tristemente): Purtroppo, non è così. Al villaggio non l’ha visto nessuno, tanto che hanno dato della bugiarda a Pearl quando me lo stava raccontando.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E che cavolo! Cose semplici mai, eh?
Phoenix Wright: Ma se avete detto che è stato qui un paio di giorni. Sarà stato pur da qualche parte a dormire, no?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ti prego, Ace, dimmi che non ti sei messo a dormire nel bosco…
Pearl (timidamente): Mi sembra di aver capito che stesse alla locanda.
Phoenix Wright (scettico): C’è una locanda?
Maya: Sì, è un piccolo edificio fatiscente non molto lontano dal villaggio, sulla strada verso la città. Io non ci sono mai stata, ma pare che il cibo non sia male, e ci si può anche dormire… Quando è aperta, cioè.
Phoenix Wright: In che senso?
Maya: Fa orari strani… A volte rimane chiusa per mesi, e quando riapre non dura più di tre settimane…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Che cosa strana…
Phoenix Wright: Be’, speriamo che sia aperta ora. Qualcuno potrebbe sapere qualcosa.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Almeno lì!
23 Ottobre, ore 19.05
Villaggio Kurain
Locanda
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya)
(Scenografia: una vecchia locanda fatiscente, con i mattoni rossi a vista sotto l’intonaco, il tetto del portico a cui mancava numerose tegole e le stesse travi in legno sono marce)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya sono di fronte alla locanda, pronti per entrare)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Con che coraggio Ace ha potuto passarci la notte.
Phoenix Wright (pensando con la voce di Ace): eh, ma lei è solo un avvocato difensore!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Scusa tanto!
(Entrano in una grande sala, con al centro cinque tavolini di ruvido legno, anche se le sedie accatastate lungo una parete. Poca era la luce che entra dalle finestre coperte dalle tende. Molti poster appesi alle pareti)
Phoenix Wright: C’è nessuno?
Maya: Ehi, guarda, Nick! C’è un poster del Samurai d’Acciaio qui. E anche del Ninja Kitarrone.
Maya: Dev’essere un appassionato, credo che andremo d’accordo,”
(Phoenix fissa un altro strano oggetto presente, una specie di scultura: un piatto di riso in cui qualcuno aveva inciso delle cavità per farlo somigliare ad una faccia al rovescio)
Pearl: Qui c’è un altro poster. (Indica il retro della porta)
Maya: N-Nick… Q-Quello non è il signor Edgeworth? (Indica una fotografia presa di nascosto in tribunale ed ingrandita)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ho un bruttissimo presentimento…
Voce fuori campo: Maledetti ladruncoli, ora vi faccio vedere io! (Pioggia di piatti che si vanno a schiantare contro le pareti con un rumore assordante) Vergogna, cercare di approfittarvi di una donna indifesa come me!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Indifesa ‘sta cippa!
Phoenix Wright: Non siamo ladri! (Si butta a terra per evitare i piatti) Siamo clienti! Vogliamo mangiare!
(I piatti smettono di arrivare)
Voce fuori campo: E perché non me l’avete detto prima, eh?!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Se ce ne avesse dato il tempo…
Maya: N-Nick… Quella non è la Oldbag?
Oldbag: Oh, ma sei tu, maledetto ragazzino! Cosa ci fai qui?! Sei venuto a rovinarmi un altro lavoro? Quando ci sei tu in giro, ci sono sempre omicidi! Portasfiga! E poi perché ammazzano sempre i miei idoli? Cos’è questa discriminazione?
Phoenix Wright: Quindi lei lavora qui?
Oldbag (soddisfatta): Questa locanda è mia. La apro quando non sto svolgendo altri lavori in città.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ecco spiegato il motivo degli strani orari…
Oldbag: Ammettilo, hai fatto tutta questa strada solo per assaggiare i miei manicaretti, vero..?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ovvio che no!
Phoenix Wright: In realtà sono qui per un’indagine…
Oldbag: NO!
Phoenix Wright: No cosa?
Oldbag: Da me non uscirà una sola parola su quello che sta cercando. Tutte le volte incolpi i miei preferiti e difendi gli impostori!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non è colpa mia…
Phoenix Wright: Mi dica, ma quella foto di Edgeworth..?
Oldbag (dolce): Oh, Edgey-poo… Lui si che è un bravo ragazzo, mica come te!
Maya estrasse un mazzo di fiori raccolti poco prima sulla strada, tutti stropicciati e coi petali che si perdevano in giro. “Questo glielo manda il signor Edgeworth,” mi sorrise complice. “E’ la ricompensa per l’aiuto che ci darà.”
Oldbag: Oh, Edgey-poo…” (Prende il mazzo e se lo stringe al petto, gongolando. Poi la sua espressione diventa seria) Ditemi tutto.
Phoenix Wright: Sì, noi volevamo informazioni su… Questo ragazzo… (Phoenix estrae la taglia e gliela mostra) Dovrebbe essere stato qui qualche mese fa…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehi, cos’è quell’espressione...?
Oldbag: Ma certo che me lo ricordo! (Modalità ragazzina innamorata) E’ entrato da quella porta, con il sole che lo illuminava da dietro, quel sorriso, quei capelli corvini al vento, quel petto muscoloso, quei bicipiti guizzanti-
Phoenix Wright: Sì, sì, ho capito. Quindi è stato qui. Mi può raccontare un po’ più in dettaglio… La storia, intendo, non gli attributi della persona in questione.
Oldbag: Uhm, invidioso. Comunque, sarà stato un paio di mesi fa, all’incirca. Fortuna che ero qui! Si è fermato a dormire per due notti nella stanza che affitto al piano di sopra.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Spero per lui che avesse chiuso bene la porta!
Oldbag: E soprattutto adorava la mia cucina! Dovevate vedere come mangiava! Le file dei piatti arrivavano fino al soffitto, quasi.
Maya (ammirata): Caspita, può fare invidia a me!
Phoenix Wright: L’ha pagata per il soggiorno?
Oldbag (dopo un attimo di silenzio): Andava di fretta. Ma puoi saldare il conto tu. Sono duecentomila Berry.
Phoenix Wright: Cosa?!
Maya: Paga, Nick.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Col cavolo!
Phoenix Wright (finge di cercare il portafoglio): Le ha detto che cosa stava facendo qui?
Oldbag: Cercava di evocare uno spirito grazie all’aiuto di quelle del villaggio vicino. Che cavolata!
Maya: Ehi!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Secondo me Ace ha cambiato idea sull’incontrare sua madre per paura che si rivelasse come la Oldbag…
Oldbag: Mi ha detto che stava cercando una persona, e andava un po’ di fretta. Era già stato qui un paio d’anni prima, ma non era riuscito a passare per il villaggio, ed era contento che la sua ricerca lo avesse riportato casualmente qui. Era anche contento perché prima di arrivare qui era stato su un’isola estiva ed una invernale, ed era bello restare con un clima più mite.
Phoenix Wright: Avete parlato un sacco..
Oldbag: Ma certo, io gli piacevo!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sinceramente, ne dubito…
Phoenix Wright: Lo sapeva che era un pirata?
Oldbag (tono di voce più alto) : E’ una menzogna! Quel pezzo di g- ehm, quel caro ragazzo… Stanno cercando di screditarlo, come hanno screditato tutti i miei eroi.
Phoenix Wright (si illuminai) Verrebbe in tribunale a testimoniarlo?
(Oldbag lo fissa severa, senza parlare)
Phoenix Wright: Be’?
Oldbag: Lo so qual è il tuo piano! Vuoi che venga a parlare di un altro uomo per dimostrare ad Eggey-poo che l’ho tradito! Ma il tuo piano diabolico non riuscirà! La storia d’amore tra me e Edgey-poo è più profonda dell’oceano e più alta della Linea Rossa!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma lui lo sa?
Phoenix Wright: Va bene, va bene, va bene… Non venga, non importa. Sa dov’è andato, dopo aver lasciato la locanda?
Oldbag: No, ha detto solo che avrebbe seguito il logpose. (Lacrimoni agli occhi) Mi ha lasciato di ricordo solo quello… (Indica una strana scultura)
Phoenix Wright: Cosa sarebbe?
Oldbag (sognante): Quel pezzo d g- ehm, lui aveva questa strana abitudine… Si addormentava mentre mangiava.
Phoenix Wright: Come sarebbe?
Oldbag: Stava mangiando, parlando, e all’improvviso cadeva addormentato, con la faccia sul piatto. Oh, era così tenero. Poi si risvegliava e riprendeva come se nulla fosse successo.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Aspetta un secondo…
Oldbag: Una volta ho preso uno di quei piatti con l’impronta e l’ho conservata.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Oh mio Dio… Ohmiodioohmiodioohmiodio…
Maya: Forse quando combatte senza mangiare per cinque giorni, poi dopo deve sia dormire che mangiare…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma ti pare una cosa normale?!
Maya: Che cosa facciamo adesso, Nick? Se la Oldbag non testimonia…
Phoenix Wright: E’ un problema, ma forse no. Però ora ho un punto più sicuro da cui partire. (Estrae il cellulare per chiamare Ema) Ciao, avrei di nuovo bisogno del tuo strumento verifica-rotta del logpose.
Ema Skye (al telefono): Oh, signor Phoenix. Finora non sono stata molto d’aiuto con la mia indagine scientifica, eh?
Phoenix Wright: Lo so, ma ora ho nuovi dati da darti. E’ possibile raggiungere la nostra isola passando prima per una invernale ed una estiva?
Ema Skye (al telefono): Ci sono sei possibilità.
Phoenix Wright: Una comprende Alabasta? Il passaggio di Ace è accertato lì.
Ema Skye (al telefono): Sì!
Phoenix Wright: Perfetto. Mantieni questi dati in linea e cerca una possibile prossima isola.
Ema Skye (al telefono): Ci sono tre possibilità.
Phoenix Wright: Uhm…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Che cos’altro so che può essermi utile? È un azzardo, ma…
Phoenix Wright: Per caso ce n’è una ancora più vicina della nostra alla base della marina G-2?
Ema Skye (al telefono): Sì, l’isola di Harvest Moon. Lo sapevo che l’indagine scientifica non poteva avermi tradito così!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Bingo!
24 Ottobre, ore 11.30
Isola di Harvest Moon
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Ema Skye)
(Scenografia: un villaggio di campagna con casette di legno, fattorie e un fiume)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Ema camminano sconsolati lasciandosi alle spalle il villaggio e le persone che hanno appena intervistato, senza ottenere informazioni utili)
Ema Skye: Mi dispiace, signor Phoenix. Anche se abbiamo trovato quest’isola, non è una cosa molto utile…
Phoenix Wright: Non preoccuparti. E’ sempre meglio di non avere niente. Intanto sappiamo che questi simpatici abitanti hanno gettato Ace nel fiume. Ma Ace non sa nuotare, perciò forse qualcuno l’ha aiutato. Proviamo a seguire il corso e vediamo che cosa troviamo.
(Camminano lungo il fiume, fino a un ponte che attraversava il ruscello, e che conduceva ad una fattoria stile country, piccola, ma ben curata.
Qualche pecore ed un paio di mucche pascolano tranquillamente in libertà, mentre una ragazzina dai capelli biondi stava spargendosi a terra i semi per le galline)
Phoenix Wright: Buongiorno. Mi chiamo Phoenix Wright, lei è Ema Skye. (Indica Ema).
Moda: Salve, sono Moda. Di che cosa avete bisogno?
Ema Skye: Non siamo qui per comprare. Stiamo facendo un’indagine. Un’indagine scientifica!
Moda (improvvisamente diffidente; fa un passo indietro e li fissa di traverso): C-Chi siete?
Phoenix Wright: No, no, non si spaventi. Sono un avvocato-
Moda: Lo sapevo che avreste dato la colpa a lui!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): La colpa..? Lui chi..?
(Una mucca si materializza dietro a Moda)
Mucca: Niiick! Adesso basta! Sia tu che Edgey!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Perché una mucca mi conosce? E pure Edgeworth?
Phoenix guarda la mucca sconvolta
La mucca si toglie il copricapo)
Larry: Mi hai riconosciuto?
Phoenix Wright (grido quasi come una gallina che veniva strozzata) LARRY!
Moda (passa lo sguardo fra Phoenix e Larry): Li conosci?
Larry (incrocia le braccia e fa una faccia seccata): Già. Lui e quell’altro, Edgey, pensano che io porti solo guai.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Perché è vero!
Larry: E poi se ne vanno in giro sempre con delle bellissime donne giusto per farmi un dispetto. (Allunga il braccio e stringe Moda a sé) Ma finalmente ho trovato anche io la mia musa!
Moda (arrossendo): Oh, Laurice…
Ema Skye: E’ un suo amico, signor Phoenix?
Phoenix Wright: Preferirei non parlarne. (A Moda) Signorina Moda, mi scusi. Come le stavo dicendo, sono un avvocato difensore, e sto cercando delle informazioni sul mio cliente, Portuguese D. Ace. Lei per caso ha avuto occasione di conoscerlo?
Moda: Oh!
Larry: E chi sarebbe questo Ace?! Nick, cosa stai cercando di insinuare?! Non coinvolgerai anche stavolta una ragazza nei tuoi omicidi!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Anche stavolta? Sei tu che finisci per essere coinvolto!
Moda: Lauri, ascolta. Ti prego, non è che potresti andare a controllare la stalla? Temo di non aver messo la biada per tutti… (Larry si allontana) E’ lei l’avvocato che sta cercando di salvare Ace dalla pena capitale? (Phoenix annuisce) Ditemi come posso aiutarvi.
Phoenix Wright: B-Be’… I-Intanto potrebbe dirmi le circostanze del vostro incontro.
Moda: L’ho salvato dal fiume, e l’ho ospitato. Qualche tempo fa, due mesi al massimo. E’ stato gentilissimo, non so quante volte si sia scusato per il disturbo che mi stava dando. Quando gli ho spiegato il mio problema, ha deciso di aiutarmi senza nemmeno rifletterci, nonostante dovesse andare in una base della marina. Un bravissimo ragazzo. Lei lo salverà, vero?
Phoenix Wright: I-Io… Ci proverò. Sarebbe più facile se potessi venire a testimoniare in tribunale.
Moda (abbassa lo sguardo): Ci avevo pensato… Ma i miei genitori non vogliono, e io non me la sento di deluderli.
Phoenix Wright: Immagino non si fidino di Ace…
Moda: Oh, no, non è quello! Sanno che è un bravo ragazzo.
Phoenix Wright: Davvero? E allora perché..?
Moda (tristemente): Lavorano per la marina, come cuochi. Hanno paura di passare dei guai se si testimoniasse a favore di un pirata…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E non mi sento di dare loro torto…
Phoenix Wright: Riguardo al favore che Ace ti ha fatto, puoi spiegarmi meglio di cosa si trattava?
Moda (annuisce): Certo. Volevo avvisare il viceammiraglio Comir, che gestisce la base dove lavorano papà e mamma, che le mucche che avevo comprato da poco avevano iniziato finalmente a dare il latte, e che quindi gliene volevo offrire un po’. Il viceammiraglio Comir odia il caffè senza il latte. Perciò ho dato ad Ace una lettera da consegnargli da parte mia.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ecco, questo è interessante.
Phoenix Wright: E lo ha fatto?
Moda: Sì. Si è infiltrato nella base apposta e, da quello che mi hanno detto i miei, ha anche salvato la marina da una brutta situazione.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sempre più interessante… Addio ai cari lucchetti psichici del caro viceammiraglio Comir…
Phoenix Wright: Sai di che cosa si tratta?
Moda (estasiata): Una nave che trasportava documenti molto importanti si era incendiata, ed Ace ha salvato sia i passeggeri che i documenti. È stato grande!
Phoenix Wright: Grazie, Moda. Non hai idea di quanto mi sia stata utile.
Moda: Mi fa piacere. Oh, Laurice sta tornando. Perché non entrate? Vi offro un po’ di latte.
Phoenix Wright: Ehm, no, grazie.
Ema Skye: Non ci pensi, signor Phoenix.
(Phoenix e Ema si allontanano dalla fattoria)
Phoenix Wright: Che intendi?
Ema Skye: Il signor Armando si è un po’ informato, per aiutarci nelle ricerche. A lei è proibito avvicinarsi a più di duecento metri da qualsiasi edificio di competenza della marina, ad eccezione di Enies Lobby.
Phoenix Wright: E perché?!
Ema Skye: Credo che temano che lei possa rubare informazioni, dato che è l’avvocato difensore di un pirata. La sospettano come rivoluzionario.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Pure?!
Phoenix Wright: E adesso come facciamo? Non posso provare che Ace abbia fatto tutte quelle buone azioni.
Ema Skye (sorriso enigmatico): Non si preoccupi, signor Nick. Quando ci sono delle prove che qualcuno tiene nascosto, significa che è giunto il momento di entrare in scena.
Phoenix Wright (Sbatte le palpebre): Entrare in scena?
Ema Skye (scuote la testa, poi sorride ancora): Sto parlando… dello Yatagarasu.
27 Ottobre, ore 23.30
Studio Legale Wright & Co.
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright)
(Scenografia: lo studio di Phoenix, con i muri riparati alla bell’e meglio)
(Situazione: Maya è appena andata a letto, Phoenix invece non riesce a dormire e gira per l’ufficio irrequieto)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Mancano solo tre giorni all’inizio del processo, ed io praticamente non ho ancora niente in mano, niente di concreto comunque. Kay Faraday, meglio conosciuta come lo Yatagarasu, mi ha procurato dalla base G-2 due oggetti, che però non so quanto possano essermi utili in un controinterrogatorio.
(Phoenix si avvicina alla finestra e la apre, per via del caldo.
Sente un leggero fruscio dei fogli, e alza gli occhi al cielo: dai buchi dei due muri che Barbabianca aveva distrutto con i suoi terremoti esce una corrente.
Phoenix si volta con l’intenzione di andare a recuperare i fogli, ma prima di farlo, vede qualcosa di bianco di fronte a sé, prima di sentire un dolore lancinante alla guancia;
mentre mi accascia a terra, qualcosa si schiantava contro l’unico muro ancora intatto, e nell’inquadratura compare un lembo del vestito viola di Maya)
Gold Roger (nel corpo di Maya): Qui, vieni. Vai in cucina, prendi qualcosa e tirati via i residui, sbrigati. Il magma è ancora peggio del fuoco, ti si appiccica addosso e ti scava nella pelle.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Il magma?!
Akainu: Accidenti… (Si alza) Roger, eh? Questa tecnica spiritica sta diventando una vera seccatura.
Gold Roger: Sbrigati ad andartene di qui, ci penso io a lui.
Akainu: Sei venuto a salvare l’avvocato del tuo caro figlioletto? Conciato così? Nel corpo di una ragazzina? Sai benissimo che sono condannati entrambi, e se ti metti a combattere sarò costretto ad uccidere anche lei. (Le braccia si illuminano di rosso magma) Oh, aspetta… Perché te ne dovrebbe importare, pirata?
(Roger ha uno sguardo serio. Si getta a colpire Akainu, schizzi di lava che passavano a fianco a Phoenix e rumore di un osso che si rompeva
Phoenix fugge in cucina. Appoggia alla guancia dolorante una patata, poi si getta a terra, tappandosi le orecchie per non sentire la confusione che proveniva dall’altra stanza.
Dopo un’eternità la confusione cessa, e Roger compare sulla soglia della cucina. I vestiti da Medium di Maya sono bruciacchiati, ed aveva delle macchie scure di magma sul volto e sulle mani, ma nel complesso stava bene.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Grazie a Dio…
(Roger mette le mani sotto l’acqua corrente)
Gold Roger: Fortuna che non ho perso il mio tocco, eh.
Phoenix Wright (passandogli uno straccio): Se n’è andato?
Gold Roger: Grazie. Non dovrebbe tornare.
(Si siedono a terra, senza parlare, nel buio, a spalmarsi sulle ferite della crema contro le scottature che Phoenix ha trovato mezza aperta in un cassetto. Le mani di Phoenix tremavano ancora)
Gold Roger: Grazie per tutti i tuoi sforzi. Non dev’essere facile per te, lo capisco.
Phoenix Wright (stancamente): Che cosa?
Gold Roger: Sei una persona normale… Tutte queste battaglie, questi segreti che coinvolgono governo, marina, pirati… Sarebbe meglio non saperne niente…
Phoenix Wright: Ah! Non è questo che penso.
Gold Roger: Perché sei un avvocato che cerca sempre la verità? Credimi, sono stato più di te a questo mondo, e a volte è meglio non saperla, la verità.
Phoenix Wright (acido): E’ per questo che dovrei mentire per salvare tuo figlio? Per salvare un colpevole che non vuole essere salvato?!
Gold Roger: Lo so che Ace può essere un po’ testardo, a volte, ma non pensare che non apprezzi i tuoi sforzi. Anche lui capirà che certe volte l’orgoglio vale meno della vita, specie se hai delle persone che tengono a te. La vita delle persone a cui tieni vale più di qualsiasi cosa.
Phoenix Wright: Credi di essere la causa della morte di tua moglie? E dei guai che sta passando adesso Ace?
Gold Roger (sorridendo): Non è forse così? Lo sapevo che Rouge avrebbe passato dei guai, ma…
Phoenix Wright: Lei ne era consapevole.
Gold Roger: Sì, ma io avrei dovuto impedirglielo lo stesso. Ho cercato di proteggere Ace dal finire sulla mia stessa via… Per questo avevo chiesto a Garp di accudirlo…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Aspetta un momento…
Phoenix Wright: Garp?! Intendi il viceammiraglio Garp?!
Gold Roger: S-sì, lui… Ma che ti prende?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma in che modo posso sfruttare questa informazione a mio vantaggio..? Ah, in nessun modo, temo…
Gold Roger (sbattendo le palpebre): Tutto ok?
Phoenix Wright: Sì… (Guarda Roger intensamente) Roger, io non so come andrà questo processo, o se la colpa di quello che sta succedendo sia tua. So solo che, come avvocato, non posso abbandonare il mio cliente.
Gold Roger: Allora, per quanto posso, neanch’io ti abbandonerò. E, per quanto possa valere la mia opinione di padre, sono sicuro che nemmeno Ace lo farà..
1 Novembre, ore 09.30
Enies Lobby
Torre di Destra
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright e Maya)
(Scenografia: stanza vuota con le pareti di pietra)
(Situazione: Phoenix sta sbirciando il corridoio da una fessura della porta)
Maya: Nick, che cosa stai combinando?
Phoenix Wright: A te cosa sembra che stia facendo?
Maya: Un appostamento.
Phoenix Wright(esultando): Esatto!”
(Garp sta arrivando, da sola, proprio in quel momento. Phoenix spalanca la porta)
Phoenix Wright (grida): Viceammiraglio Garp! Che coincidenza incontrarla ora.
Garp (tranquillo): Buongiorno, avvocato.
Phoenix Wright (indica l’interno della stanza): Avrebbe un minuto per me?
Garp (breve occhiata in giro): Uh, certo. (Entra e strigse la spalla a Phoenix, forte) Mi dica tutto.
(Phoenix estrae il magatama, mentre Maya aprie la bocca in un “oh” silenzioso)
Phoenix Wright: Potrebbe dare un’occhiata a questo?
Garp: Uhm, non mi dice nulla…
(Appaiono due lucchetti psichici rossi)
Phoenix Wright (tono serio): Viceammiraglio Garp. Lei ha un rapporto stretto con il mio cliente, non è vero?
Garp: Perché?
Phoenix Wright: Perché vuole che io vinca il caso.
Garp: Non abbiamo già fatto questa conversazione?
Phoenix Wright (Annuisce): Ma allora non sapevo ancora tutti i pezzi del puzzle. (Estrae la taglia di Cappello di Paglia) Ecco! Prima cosa: Monkey D. Rufy è suo nipote?
Garp (alza un sopracciglio): Esatto. Dove sta il problema?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ma come..? Perché il lucchetto non si è spaccato?!
Garp: Non è un segreto, abbiamo lo stesso cognome. Certo, avrei voluto vederlo diventare un marine, accidenti a lui…
Maya (tira una gomitata a Phoenix) Nick!
Phoenix Wright: Oh, sì, certo. Il fatto che suo nipote ed il mio cliente si ritengano fratelli dimostrerà pur qualcosa, no?
Garp: E cosa dimostrerebbe, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: Che sono cresciuti assieme. Dopotutto, e a lei che Roger ha affidato Ace.
Garp: (Scocca un’occhiata a Maya): Ah, già, l’evocazione Kurain. Non avrebbe potuto saperlo da nessun’altro che da Roger stesso. È’ una cosa che, oltre a me, sanno solo altre due persone all’interno della marina. Accettai di prendermi cura di Ace perché un bambino non può prendersi le colpe del padre, ma ora che è un pirata – Ma, tutto bene, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: C-Credo di sì…
Maya: Ma lei si è preso cura di Ace fin da quando era neonato! Lei vuole vederci vincere questo processo!
Phoenix Wright: Sì. Se gli vuole veramente bene, deve aiutarci!
Non posso! (I lucchetti esplodono) L’avrei già fatto, se avessi potuto. Convincere Sengoku ad accettare questo processo è stato il massimo, vi assicuro. Volete che testimoni?
Phoenix Wright: Non lo so. Le sto provando tutte, davvero, e sapere che posso contare su di lei sarebbe già un bel passo avanti.
Garp (annuisce): Come vi ho detto, al momento non posso fare nulla. Ma se si presenterà l’occasione, be’, avete già il mio appoggio. Fate del vostro meglio.
1 Novembre, ore 10.00
Enies Lobby
Tribunale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Miles Edgeworth e Franziska Von Karma, l’intera Marina sugli spalti, Ace in catene)
(Scenografia: aula di tribunale, con la maggior parte del pubblico di marine)
(Situazione: Phoenix è al banco della difesa con Maya, lui ha un cerotto sulla guancia, lei le mani fasciare; Akainu un braccio rotto. Il Giudice è già entrato con sorpresa di nessuno)
Miles Edgeworth (incrociando le braccia): Mi faccia indovinare: un’altra cena con il Direttore Magellan?
Il Giudice: Esatto. Devo ricordarmi di non andarci mai. Insomma, il mio dovere di sedARGH. (La frusta di Franziska lo interrompe) Sì, dunque, stavo dicendo… Signor Wright, va tutto bene?
Phoenix Wright: Certo, Vostro Onore. Tutto a posto.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Almeno credo… Accusare di tentato omicidio un ammiraglio della marina mentre stavo tentando di difendere un pirata non mi sembra una mossa saggia.
Il Giudice: Molto bene, allora, Signor Edgeworth, la sua dichiarazione d’apertura.
Miles Edgeworth: Ciò che l’accusa tenterà di provare oggi, è che l’imputato, Portuguese D. Ace, sia un pirata. Visto quello che è successo alla scorsa seduta, l’accusa ha preferito concentrarsi soprattutto sulla prima parte della carriera dell’imputato, quando era capitano degli Spade Pirates. (Prende un foglio in mano) Il detective Gumshoe è riuscito a convincere alcune persone a testimoniare a questo riguardo oggi.
Franziska Von Karma: Quello sciattone si è rivelato utile, per una volta.
Il Giudice: Convochi il primo.
(Entra una giovane donna in abito nero da cameriera. La cuffietta bianca tratteneva i lunghi ricci rossi, che si intonavano con il rossetto che aveva sulla bocca carnosa e sulle unghie che si stava mordendo, nervosa)
Madeleine: Mi chiamo Madeleine. Gestisco… Gestisco un locale in uno dei quattro porti di San Popula.
Miles Edgeworth (incrociando le braccia): Signorina, vorrei che ci parlasse del suo incontro con l’imputato
Madeleine (annuisce): E’ successo tempo fa… Circa tre anni. Era quasi l’ora di chiusura, perciò mi stavo occupando di sistemare i tavoli, quando è entrato l’imputato.
Phoenix Wright: Un attimo! E’ proprio sicura che fosse lui?
Madeleine: Be’, non aveva i tatuaggi, è vero, ma ne sono sicura. (Si mordere l’unghia dell’indice) Il cappello da cowboy, le lentiggini… Decisamente lui.
Phoenix Wright: Come, nessun tatuaggio? Nemmeno quello sul braccio?
Miles Edgeworth: In accordo con le nostre informazioni. Quel tatuaggio è stato fatto nell’isola successiva, l’isola di Pucci. Abbiamo trovato il tatuatore.
Phoenix Wright: Ed è ancora vivo? Cioè, se io fossi un pericoloso criminale e qualcuno si sbagliasse a tatuarmi il nome sul braccio ioeeeargh!
(Frusta addosso)
Franziska Von Karma: Herr Phoenix Wright! Non cerchi di distrarre l’attenzione dalla testimonianza della signorina. Prego, continui pure.
Madeleine: Va bene. (deglutisce) Ha ordinato da mangiare. Dopo che gliel’ho portato, ho iniziato a sentire degli strani rumori provenire da fuori.
Il Giudice (rabbrividisce): Strani rumori?
Madeleine: Sì. Colpi di pistola, cose che cadevano e si rompevano, urla. Ero terrorizzata. Però ho cercato di andare a vedere comunque cosa stava succedendo, ma lui… Lui mi ha afferrata per il braccio. Ha detto che era meglio se non mi muovevo. Stava stringendo così forte che ho temuto mi avrebbe spezzato il polso… (La voce le si strozza in gola, e lei abbassa lo sguardo) Non ho avuto il coraggio di fare nulla. Ho aspettato che finisse di mangiare. Quando i rumori sono cessati, si è alzato e se n’è andato.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Senza pagare, ovviamente…
Madeleine: Ci è voluto un po’ di tempo prima che mi sentissi abbastanza tranquilla da uscire dalla trattoria.
Miles Edgeworth: E che cos’ha scoperto?
Madeleine (gemendo): A-Avevano distrutto t-tutto..! L-Le case s-stavano bruciando… E c-c’erano feriti dappertutto… I-Io… I-io… (Si prende la testa fra le mani, singhiozzando)
Il Giudice: Va bene, va bene, basta così, non si sforzi ulteriormente. Signor Wright, ritiene proprio necessario infierire su questa povera testimone?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Guardi che non lo faccio perché sono sadico, eh…
Phoenix Wright: Vorrei procedere con il contro-interrogatorio, appena la signorina si sarà calmata a sufficienza. (Qualche minuto ed un centinaio di fazzoletti dopo) Mentre l’imputato mangiava, ha notato qualcosa di strano nel suo comportamento? Qualcosa di… Insolito?
Madeleine (si tormenta le unghie e riflette): A parte il fatto che era tranquillo e beato mentre i suoi uomini distruggevano il mio paese? No.
Sengoku: Non è affatto una cosa insolita. I pirati sono creature ciniche e senza cuore.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sì, ma con lei sarebbe una bella sfida..!
Phoenix Wright (annuisco): Va bene. Mi dica allora perché non è scappata quando il mio cliente si è addormentato.
Madeleine: M-Mi scusi..?
Phoenix Wright: Il mio cliente si è addormentato, no? Perché non ne ha approfittato per scappare?
Madeleine: I-Io… N-No…
Il Giudice: Signor Wright! La testimone non ha mai accennato al fatto che l’imputato si sia addormentato.”
Phoenix Wright: Lo so, Vostro Onore. Ma deve averlo fatto per forza. Ecco!” (Estrae la cosiddetta ‘scultura’ della Oldbag) Vede, il mio cliente soffre di una strana patologia. La narcolessia. Ogni volta che mangia, finisce per addormentarsi, una o più volte. Cade in un sonno profondo, con la testa sul piatto.
Miles Edgeworth (incurvato sul banco): E… E quello sarebbe..?
Phoenix Wright: E’… Ehm… Un piatto che prova di quello che sto dicendo che… Ehm… Un’ammiratrice ha conservato.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Credimi, sarebbe peggio se sapessi di chi sto parlando!
(Phoenix guarda Ace: ha la testa chinata, e le spalle e il petto si muovono in maniera convulsa)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Beato te che lo trovi divertente…
Phoenix Wright: Testimone?
Madeleine: I-Io… Non ci ho pensato, a scappare. Ero troppo spaventata…
Phoenix Wright (tono duro): Davvero? Quindi ammette che l’ha visto addormentato. Perché non l’ha detto prima?
Madeleine (sul punto di piangere): I-Io… N-Non ci ho pensato…
Phoenix Wright: Nemmeno quando le ho esplicitamente chiesto se era accaduto qualcosa di insolito?
Franziska Von Karma: Herr Phoenix Wright! (La frusta di schiocca sul bancone) Che cosa sta cercando di insinuare?
Phoenix Wright: Comincio a pensare che il pirata che ha minacciato la testimone non fosse affatto il mio cliente. Ma le conveniva forse dire che è stato lui, tanto i pirati sono tutti uguali…
Madeleine: N-Noooo! N-Non è v-vero… P-Posso provare quello che sto dicendo…
Miles Edgeworth (incredulo): Davvero?!
(Madeleine annuisce, quindi si toglie lentamente il guanto della divisa, mostrando una cicatrice nera da bruciatura a forma di mano, che spicca chiaramente sul suo polso pallido)
Madeleine: Q-Quando mi ha afferrata… M-Mi ha fatto questo…
Il Giudice (sbatte le palpebre): Come sarebbe?
Miles Edgeworth: Secondo i dati, l’imputato ha mangiato il Frutto del Diavolo Foco Foco. E’ un uomo di fuoco. È praticamente l’unico che può lasciare un’impronta simile, grazie al suo tipo di potere.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E’ davvero l’unico..?
Il Giudice: Capisco… Cioè, no, non capisco, ma fa niente. La cosa importante è che quella impronta prova la verità del racconto.
Phoenix Wright: Non sono d’accordo. Bisogna prima provare che sia davvero del mio cliente.
Miles Edgeworth: E come? E’ una bruciatura, non sono presenti impronte. Avanti, Wright, non puoi credere che quell’impronta sia solo una coincidenza.
Phoenix Wright: E’ vero che non sono presenti impronte. Ma possiamo usare un altro tipo di investigazione scientifica.
(Ema, nel pubblico, si era già alzata in piedi)
Ema Skye: Vede, Vostro Onore, esiste questo sistema che permette, da un’impronta, di ricostruire esattamente come sia la mano che l’ha prodotta. La usiamo nei casi di impronte che sono lasciate coi guanti. Ovviamente non è infallibile, perché la forma delle mani non è unica per ogni persona, ma se abbiamo un confronto si può dire se le impronte sono state fatte dalla stessa mano.
Sengoku (si alza in piedi): Però questo non è possibile. Ho capito qual è il suo piano, avvocato, ma se lo può scordare. Non toglieremo le catene di agalmatolite ad un pericoloso criminale con un potere rogia solo per permettergli di scappare.
Phoenix Wright (soddisfatto): Fortunatamente, non sarà necessario, signore. Ecco! Possiamo usare questa, come confronto. (Estrae una busta bianca che ha, su uno dei lati corti, una chiara bruciatura a forma di mano)
Miles Edgeworth: E quella dove l’hai trovata, Wright? Come possiamo essere sicuri che sia dell’imputato?
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Tu sai accusando me di falsificare le prove? Ah!
Phoenix Wright: Semplice. Oltre alla bruciatura, questa busta possiede anche le impronte digitali del mio cliente. O pensi che siano una coincidenza?
Miles Edgeworth: Nnngh… Va bene, facciamo questo esame.
(Ema scende dalle tribune in corte ed esegue l’esame con la supervisione del giudice e, per sicurezza, anche dell’ammiraglio Kizaru, che tiene tutto il tempo un’espressione da pesce lesso che assumeva mentre Ema cerca di spiegargli il corretto funzionamento dell’apparecchio)
Kizaru: Ehm… Non coincidono… Questo vuol dire… Che non è stato Ace a fare la cicatrice alla signorina?
(Ema annuisce come conferma)
Madeleine: N-Nooo…! Deve essere stato lui! È assolutamente stato lui! Nonononono!!
Franziska Von Karma (la prede a frustate): Si calmi, testimone! (Colpisce Phoenix) Herr Phoenix Wright. Lei conosce altre persone che possano fare una cosa del genere?
(Il colpo che Franziska strappa il cerotto che Phoenix ha sulla guancia, rivelando la ferita scura che si stava cicatrizzando. Edgeworth passa lo sguardo da me a Maya e all’ammiraglio Akainu, e capisce tutto)
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone! Le prove dicono che non può essere stato l’imputato a farle quella cicatrice. Allora, le chiedo, chi è stato?
Madeleine: N-no, no, è stato lui, lo giuro!
Il giudice (sbatte il martelletto): Signorina, le ricordo che è già sotto giuramento!
Madeleine (in lacrime): M-Mi ucciderà… S-Se lo dico…N-No, v-vi prego…
(Una guardia scorta la testimone fuori dalla corte)
Miles Edgeworth: Era terrorizzata. Non credo sapesse recitare così bene. È probabile che la vicenda che ci ha raccontato sia vera, ma sia da attribuire ad un altro soggetto. Qualcuno poi la deve aver usata per incolpare l’imputato.
Il Giudice: Forse qualcuno che odiava Gold Roger e ha cercato di approfittarne per far condannare il figlio?
Miles Edgeworth: Forse. Sarà mio preciso dovere indagare approfonditamente su questa vicenda, quando il processo di oggi sarà concluso.
Il Giudice: Molto bene, allora. Signor Procuratore, proseguiamo.
(Entra il secondo testimone, un uomo smilzo con una barba incolta, che fumava una sigaretta senza filtro; Franziska gliela strappa con un colpo di frusta, lui continua beatamente a fare finta di averla tra le labbra. Indossa una divisa da carcerato)
Miles Edgeworth: Il signore in questione è un pirata che è stato arrestato non molto tempo fa. Avrebbe dovuto essere deportato ad Impel Down, ma ha detto di avere informazioni utili per questo processo, e quindi per il momento la pena gli è stata sospesa.”
Il giudice (annuisce): Bene, testimone, proceda pure.
Dunand: E’ il vecchietto che comanda qui? (accennana verso Il Giudice)
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone, nome e professione!
Dunand: Va bene, va bene, non vi scaldate… (alza le braccia) Mi chiamo Dunand Norfolk. Al momento sono un detenuto.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E meno male…
(Phoenix alzaa lo sguardo verso Ace, che guarda il testimone con due occhi infiammati, i muscoli del corpo tesi nonostante l’immobilità forzata. Maya passa a Phoenix un fogliettino da sotto il banco: “Messaggio istantaneo da Satch: quello è uno a cui Ace ha spaccato il culo una volta.”)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Andiamo bene…
Il Giudice: Qual è la testimonianza importante di cui voleva parlarci?
Dunand (ghignando): Io sono stato un membro degli Spade Pirates. Volete sapere se Pugno di Fuoco è un pirata? Io ve lo posso dire.
(Frustata da Franziska)
Franziska Von Karma: Allora cosa sta aspettando? Si sbrighi!
Dunand: Calma, sorella, lo faccio. (Alza le braccia, arrendevole) Sono entrato nella ciurma alla terza isola della Rotta Maggiore, quindi sono stato uno dei primi. Me ne sono andato dopo la decisione del capitano di unirsi ai pirati di Barbabianca. (Sorrise di nuovo, malevolo) Che cosa abbiamo fatto in quel periodo? Quello che fanno i pirati: abbiamo rubato, razziato, incendiato. E ammazzato.
(Il silenzio scende nella stanza. Il giudice si blocca con il martelletto a mezz’aria, Phoenix suda)
Il Giudice: È certo… Un’informazione rilevante. Signor Wright, che ne pensa?
Phoenix Wright: Io… Vorrei iniziare il mio controinterrogatorio..
Dunand: Il che, amico? Mi piacciono i tuoi capelli, comunque.
Miles Edgeworth: Signor Norfolk! Ora l’avvocato difensore le farà delle domande, veda di rispondere senza troppi convenevoli.
Dunand: Bene… Spari, amico.
Phoenix Wright: P-Potrebbe per cortesia dirmi…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non ho la minima idea di cosa chiedergli!
Phoenix Wright: Ecco! (Estrae il foglio che Gumshoe gli aveva consegnato, quello con le rotte) Si ricorda che isole avete visitato?
Dunand: Certo. (Elenco di isole)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Peccato che ne manchi una…
Phoenix Wright: Lei ha detto che ha lasciato la ciurma degli Spade Pirates dopo l’incontro con Barbabianca. Potrebbe essere un po’ più specifico su questo punto?
Dunand (annuisce): Il capitano prese proprio una bella batosta, quella volta, e coinvolse anche noi. Infatti, quando siamo andati a recuperarlo, ce le hanno suonate. Barbabianca non mi è mai stato molto simpatico, diciamocelo, è un perdente che fa il figo solo ora che Roger non c’è più. Ecco perché me ne sono andato.
Phoenix Wright: Dove è avvenuta precisamente la batosta di cui parla? La vostra, intendo.
Dunand: In mezzo al mare. Per altro, ci hanno incendiato la nave e ci hanno costretto ad imbarcarci.
Phoenix Wright (soddisfatto): Io credo che lei stia mentendo. Ecco! Dia un’occhiata a questo.
Il Giudice: Che cosa sarebbe, signor Wright? Lei tira fuori sempre cose strane…
Phoenix Wright: Questa è la nave degli Spade Pirates, o almeno quello che ne è rimasto. La riconosce, testimone? Mi può dire qual era il nome? (Dunand rimane in silenzio, Phoenix sorride) Si chiamava Flames, per la cronaca. È’ stata incendiata, è vero, ma non durante la battaglia. È stato Ace stesso a farlo, in un’isola specifica dove ho trovato questa prova che lo dimostra. Sa dirmi qual è?
Dunand: No.
Il Giudice: Come sarebbe, testimone? Si spieghi.
Dunand: Oh, ok, ho detto una balla prima. (soffia del fumo immaginario da un’altrettanto immaginaria sigaretta) Avevo mollato quella ciurma di sfigati da prima dello scontro con Barbabianca. Non credevo fosse un problema.
Miles Edgeworth (sbatte una mano sul banco): Prima quando, testimone?
Dunand: Prima della linea rossa.
Phoenix Wright (dubbioso): Ah, davvero? Quindi sa su che isola il mio cliente si è fatto fare il tatuaggio con il suo nome.
Dunand: Cavolo, no che non lo ricordo! Che cavolo vuole che me ne freghi?
Phoenix Wright: Il suo capitano si era fatto fare un tatuaggio e lei non ne sapeva niente?
Dunand: Oh, senta, non me lo ricordo. Avrò lasciato la ciurma prima di quell’avvenimento.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sì, come no…
Phoenix Wright: Lei prima ha detto che, dopo l’isola di Drum, siete passati per quella di San Popula e quella di Pucci. Esatto? (Dunand ci pensa per un attimo, come se stesse ripetendo una lista imparata a memoria, prima di rispondere affermativamente) Non nota niente di strano?
Dunand: Cosa dovrei notare?
Miles Edgeworth: Manca un’isola. Drum è un’isola invernale, San Popula estiva e Pucci primaverile. Dovrebbe essercene una autunnale tra Drum e San Popula, che non è stata registrata negli archivi della marina.
Phoenix Wright: Ma lei dovrebbe saperla, testimone.
Dunand: Esistono gli Eternal Pose, avvocato. Avremo saltato l’isola autunnale così.
Miles Edgeworth: Non questa volta. Abbiamo indagato, e non risulta che gli Spade Pirates ne abbiano mai acquistato uno. Inoltre… (Sorriso soddisfatto) Perché usa il congiuntivo? Non ne è sicuro?
Dunand: Nnn… No! Non ne sono sicuro! Sarò entrato nella ciurma nell’isola dopo, no, l’isola di San… Qualcosa. Ecco perché non so niente di quell’isola autunnale!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Beccato…
Phoenix Wright: Quindi ora sta affermando che è entrato negli Spade Pirates sull’isola di San Popula, e se n’è andato nell’isola dopo, l’isola di Pucci.
Miles Edgeworth: Cioè, quella dove l’imputato si è fatto fare il tatuaggio. Lei è stato con quella ciurma solo per un viaggio, dato che sono due isole sequenziali.
Tsuru: Perché il procuratore sembra essere dalla parte della difesa?
(Garp alza le spalle, ma sorride)
Dunand: Be’, l’ho detto che era una ciurma di sfigati. Il capitano, poi, con tutte le arie che si dava… Ci credo che me ne sono andato! (Incrocia le braccia ed inizia a mordersi il labbro (Qualche problema?)
Phoenix Wright: A dire la verità sì. Dato che su queste due isole non sono testimoniate imprese piratesche del mio cliente, dove lo avrebbe visto fare il pirata?
Dunand: Acc… In mare durante la rotta! Abbiamo sicuramente attaccato qualche nave! I pirati lo fanno sempre, l’ha fatto anche lui! (Il silenzio scende in tribunale, Dunand rimane interdetto) Che c’è? Che ho detto?
(La frusta di Franziska lo colpisce in pieno viso)
Franziska Von Karma: Stupido stupidissimo pezzo di uno stupido! Pucci e San Popula sono collegate dal treno marino! Non c’è una sola nave civile che passi quella rotta!
Il Giudice: E questo cosa significa?”
Miles Edgeworth (con un inchino): Il testimone sta probabilmente mentendo.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehi, il controinterrogatorio era mio!
Miles Edgeworth: Forse il signor Wright può informarci con qualche sistema… Non convenzionale?
(Phoenix gli lancia il foglietto scritto da Satch. Edgeworth lo leggle, poi lo passa a Franziska, la quale interrompe le frustate che stava dando a Dunand per esaminarlo; Franziska si sposta dal banco e va ad aprire la porta della corte.)
Franziska Von Karma: E’ tutto tuo.
(Sady-chan è dietro la porta. Inizia a frustare Dunand)
Il giudice (timidamente): Credo che sia venuto il momento di fare una pausa…
1 Novembre, ore 11.30
Enies Lobby
Torre di Destra
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright e Maya)
(Scenografia: stanza vuota con le pareti di pietra)
(Situazione: Phoenix e Maya si rifugiano nella stanza, chiudendo la porta dietro di loro)
Maya: Fiu, è andata…
Phoenix Wright: Sì, ma ci siamo andati molto vicini, stavolta… Un altro testimone del genere, e davvero, non ho più conigli da tirare fuori dal cappello.
(Qualcosa cade dal soffitto precipitando davanti a Phoenix)
Phoenix Wright: Aaahh!
Kay Faraday: Stia calmo, signor Wright. Sono io.
Maya: Kay!
(Le due ragazze si abbracciano)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sono in sintonia perché sono entrambe pazze…
Phoenix Wright: Caspita. Non puoi fare un’entrata normale?
Maya e Kay contemporaneamente: No! Io sono lo Yatagarasu!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non andrei a dirlo troppo in giro…
Phoenix Wright: A questo proposito, grazie. Grazie alla lettera che mi hai procurato dalla base del G-2 ho potuto smontare la testimonianza di Madeleine.
Kay Faraday: Dovere di Yatagarasu. Speriamo solo che il signor Edgeworth non si arrabbi quando lo scoprirà. A proposito, sono qui per suo conto.
Phoenix Wright (sbatte le palpebre): Davvero?
Kay Faraday: Vede, signor Wright… In realtà, noi indagando non abbiamo trovato nemmeno una persona disposta a collaborare.
Phoenix Wright: In che senso?
Kay Faraday: Quasi tutte le persone che abbiamo interrogato, be’, dicevano un gran bene di quel ragazzo. Alla fine, gli unici che avrebbero voluto accopparlo erano i ristoratori che non erano stati pagati. Ma quando gli chiedevamo se fossero disposti a testimoniare in tribunale, si tiravano tutti indietro.
Maya: Che? Per quale motivo?
Kay Faraday: Perché hanno paura! Della Marina!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Come li capisco…
Kay Faraday: Poi, due o tre giorni prima del processo, uno degli ammiragli si è presentato in procura con una lista di testimoni pronti a condannare Ace a morte. Che strano, eh?
Phoenix Wright: Una lista..?
Kay Faraday: Sì, ma il signor Edgeworth, visto come sta andando, non ha intenzione di convocarne altri. È abbastanza chiaro che sono stati preparati apposta, no? Altrimenti non si spiegherebbe perché noi non ne abbiamo trovati e loro, improvvisamente, milioni. Ma la signorina Von Karma ha detto che ormai dobbiamo continuare, cercando di non far capire ai nostri cari ammiragli che abbiamo scoperto il loro gioco.
Phoenix Wright (Annuisce) Qualche idea?
Kay Faraday: Il signor Edgeworth dice che può pensarci solo lei. Se ha un testimone decisivo da convocare, lo faccia, signor Wright. È’ l’unico sistema.
Phoenix Wright: U-Un testimone decisivo..? N-Non saprei…
Kay Faraday (tristemente): L’accusa ha intenzione di dichiarare, quando rinizierà l’udienza, che spetta alla difesa provare le sue teorie. Se non può farlo, il giudice dovrà emettere il suo verdetto. I testimoni sono stati dei falsi, ma…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Specie perché io so che Ace è davvero un pirata!!
Maya: Che facciamo, Nick? Convochiamo il viceammiraglio Garp?
Kay Faraday: Be’, in bocca al lupo. E ricordate che, come dice il signor Edgeworth, c’è un’unica verità, e in aula deve venire fuori.
1 Novembre, ore 12.00
Enies Lobby
Tribunale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Miles Edgeworth e Franziska Von Karma, l’intera Marina sugli spalti, Ace in catene)
(Scenografia: aula di tribunale, con la maggior parte del pubblico di marine)
(Situazione: Phoenix è al banco della difesa, in attesa dell’ordine del giudice)
Il Giudice (stancamente): Signor Edgeworth, se vuole convocare il prossimo testimone
Miles Edgeworth: No.
(Miles tiene le braccia incrociate, e ha una ruga sulla fronte, teso)
Il giudice (sbatte le palpebre): Come no?
Miles Edgeworth: Ho deciso che l’accusa non ha bisogno di provare nulla. Secondo la taglia della marina, l’imputato è un pirata. La difesa ha sostenuto che questa taglia sia una menzogna. Bene, signor Wright, a lei il compito di dimostrarlo! (Punta l’indice contro Phoenix).
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ehi, quella sarebbe la mia parte!!
Il Giudice: Può farlo, signor Wright?
Phoenix Wright: In effetti, Vostro Onore, vorrei interrogare un testimone per sostenere la mia tesi. Vorrei chiamare a testimoniare… Il viceammiraglio Comir!
Maya (stupita): Come?! Non Garp?
Phoenix Wright (Scuote la testa): Garp non può dirmi più di quanto tutti sappiano. Dobbiamo scoprire qualcosa di nuovo.
(Si alza solo un leggero brusio nella stanza, anche se sono tutti sorpresi)
Sengoku: Mi oppongo. Non c’è alcun motivo per-”
(Sengoku viene interrotto dallo schioccare della frusta di Franziska)
Franziska Von Karma: L’accusa non ha niente da obbiettare alla richiesta della difesa. Si proceda pure.
Kizaru (si sporge verso uno dei suoi colleghi): Scusate, non sono sicuro di aver capito bene… Ma quei due in quel banco là, non dovrebbero essere dalla nostra parte?
Sengolu (asciutto): Hai detto bene: dovrebbero.
(Il viceammiraglio Comir sale sul banco dei testimoni)
Comir: Non capisco in che modo potrei esserle utile, avvocato
Phoenix Wright: Credo che lo scopriremo assieme. (Estrae il magatama, Edgeworth si accascia sul suo banco) Intanto, potrebbe dare un’occhiata a questo?
Comir: Che cosa sarebbe?
Il Giudice (scettico): Già, che cosa sarebbe?
Phoenix Wright: Uh, niente, mi sono sbagliato. (Rimette immediatamente in tasca il magatama; i lucchetti psichici appaiono) Ecco! In realtà volevo mostrare questa.
Miles Edgeworth: Non è la lettera che abbiamo usato prima per l’identificazione dell’impronta dell’imputato?
Phoenix Wright: Esatto. Però non ho mai accennato né al destinatario né al mittente. Lei lo sa, testimone, di chi si tratta?
Comir: No.
Phoenix Wright (apre la lettera delicatamente, estrae il contenuto e lo legge ad alta voce): Per il signor Comir. Le andrebbe un po’ di buon latte? Firmato: Moda. (La frusta di Franziska scocca). Le analisi scientifiche della signorina Skye hanno già dimostrato che su questa lettera, oltre alle impronte dell’imputato, sono presenti quelle del testimone e di un’altra persona, la signorina Moda che vive sull’isola di Harvest Moon ed è fornitore ufficiale della base G-2. Il che vuol dire che questa lettera era per lei, viceammiraglio.
(Uno dei lucchetti psichici esplode)
Comir: Non sapevo che fosse quella. E’ vero, era per me, da parte di Moda.
Phoenix Wright: Il mio cliente gliel’ha consegnata, vero?
Comir (scuote la testa): No. L’ho ricevuta, e basta. Non ho mai saputo chi me l’avesse portata.
Phoenix Wright: Invece io credo che lei abbia incontrato il mio cliente. (Appoggia le mani sul bancone, prende un profondo sospiro. Il giorno che ha ricevuto quella lettera, si è verificato un incidente nella sua base. Una nave ha preso fuoco accidentalmente, una nave che trasportava dei documenti importanti, dei documenti segreti, che dovevano essere consegnati a lei personalmente.
(Il viceammiraglio Comir deglutisce, ma non risponde)
Phoenix Wright: Eppure lei ha ricevuto quei documenti, nonostante l’incendio. Ecco! Questa è la prova.
(Phoenix mostra al giudice e alla corte una valigia, solo leggermente bruciacchiata ma sostanzialmente intatta. Comir immpalidisce al guardarla)
Miles Edgeworth: Obiezione! Dove ti sei procurato quella cosa?
Phoenix Wright: Questa prova me l’ha procurata lo Yatagarasu, direttamente dalla base G-2.
(Edgeworth si trattiene dall’urlare)
Il Giudice: Lo Yatagarasu? Ma non era morto?
Miles Edgeworth (fra i denti): Lei non si preoccupi, Vostro Onore...
Franziska Von Karma: Obiezione! (Stavolta la frusta non manca il bersaglio) Una prova rubata non può essere ammessa, Herr Phoenix Wright!
Phoenix Wright (ingenuo): Ah no..? Ma non è quello che fate sempre voi..?
Miles Edgeworth: Nnngh…Va bene, testimone, proseguiamo e facciamo finta di niente.
Kizaru: Siamo sicuri che i veri pirati non siano quei due procuratori..?
Tsuru: Io ci aggiungerei anche l’avvocato difensore.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Quindi sono stato declassato da rivoluzionario a pirata..?
Phoenix Wright: E’ vero che questa valigia doveva essere consegnata di persona a lei? (Comir annuisce) Allora mi giustifichi questa impronta qui. (Indica il chiaro segno di bruciatura a forma di mano su un lato)
Comir (tristemente): Scommetto che la sua investigatrice scientifica ha già verificato di chi è quell’impronta…
Phoenix Wright: Già.
(Il secondo lucchetto psichico esplode)
Comir: Va bene, avvocato, ha vinto. Ho incontrato personalmente Ace “Pugno di fuoco”.
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone, ci racconti tutto.
Comir: Si era infiltrato nella base per consegnarmi quella lettera da parte di Moda… (sospiro lunghissimo) Per fortuna. Se non ci fosse stato lui…
Il Giudice: Che intende?
Comir: Come ha detto l’avvocato, c’è stato un incendio alla nave dei servizi segreti. Avremmo perso tutto… Uomini e documenti, se l’imputato non fosse stato da noi. Si è gettato tra le fiamme, e grazie ai poteri del suo frutto del diavolo, è riuscito a portare in salvo tutti, e a recuperare alcuni importantissimi documenti. (Alza la testa, che aveva tenuto bassa fin dall’inizio, e sorride tristemente) Ci ha aiutato, davvero, e non si è messo a combattere con noi nonostante l’avessimo attaccato, per la taglia e tutto… Se devo essere sincero, credo che sia proprio un bravo ragazzo.
Il Giudice: Direi che… La situazione è piuttosto chiara.
Miles Edgeworth: Già. Sembra davvero che l’imputato non attacchi volontariamente le basi della marina, perciò, probabilmente, la tesi di legittima difesa è corretta... Tuttavia… (Riflette un poco) C’erano dei documenti importanti in quella valigetta? Documenti che potevano interessare ad un pirata?
Comir: Non credo… Erano solo avvisi di taglia e rapporti su altri pirati…
Phoenix Wright: E anche questo dimostra la mia tesi. Il mio cliente non è affatto un pirata… Ma un cacciatore di taglie!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E, per la miseria, ma che accidenti sto dicendo?!
Il Giudice: N-ne è sicuro, signor Wright?
Phoenix Wright: (Annuisce con foga): Tutte le prove puntano in quella direzione. Ha attaccato solo pirati, mai civili, e solo i marine quando evidentemente non c’erano alternative, perché il viceammiraglio ci ha chiaramente illustrato che preferisce scappare piuttosto che combattere… Forse la bandiera pirata serve ad immaginarsi nella mente di quelli a cui dà la caccia.
Il Giudice: Sembra così, infatti.
Maya (afferra il braccio a Phoenix): Evviva, Nick, ce l’abbiamo fatta!
Comir (a Sengoku): Mi dispiace, signore.
Sengoku (freddo): Non c’è problema, viceammiraglio. (Si rivolge a Il Giudice) Aspetti un attimo, Vostro Onore. C’è un’ultima cosa che bisognerebbe chiarire prima del verdetto.
Il Giudice: E cosa?
Sengoku: Il vero cliente del nostro caro avvocato difensore. Poiché non sono ammesse telefonate ad Impel Down, mi pare piuttosto chiaro che non sia stato Ace “Pugno di Fuoco” ad assumerlo (si rivolge direttamente a Phoenix) Quindi, chi è stato? Non è forse stato Barbabianca, che guarda caso le ha fatto visita non molto prima dell’inizio di questo processo? Perché, se davvero fosse stato assunto da un pirata, quindi da un criminale, il processo non sarebbe valido.
Phoenix Wright (sudando): Ehm, dunque, io…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Sono fregato…
Garp: No.
(Garp è tranquillo e composto sulla sua sedia, schiena appoggiata e gambe distese di fronte, un sorrisetto beota in viso.
Sengoku si volta a fulminarlo con gli occhi)
Sengoku: Come?
Garp: Non è stato Barbabianca ad assumerlo. Perché sono stato io. Non è vero, avvocato?
Phoenix Wright: Oh, ehm, ma certo! Come è emerso nello scorso dibattimento, il mio cliente e “Cappello di Paglia” sono fratelli, ma non di sangue. In compenso il viceammiraglio è il nonno del suddetto pirata, il che implica…
Miles Edgeworth: …Che il viceammiraglio Garp abbia allevato non solo suo nipote, ma anche l’imputato. E dato che come marine avrebbe dovuto combattere una guerra per permettere la sua condanna a morte, non mi stupisce che abbia cercato l’aiuto di un avvocato famoso per le sue cause disperate.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Grazie, eh…
Il Giudice (sul punto di piangere): E’ una storia così commuovente… Un nonno che è costretto a rivolgersi a Wright per salvare suo nipote…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Cioè, il dramma sarebbe aver dovuto chiedere aiuto a me?!
Phoenix Wright: E’ vero che ho incontrato Barbabianca, avevo bisogno di interrogarlo per le mie indagini. Ma è anche vero che ho subito avvertito i marine.
Maya: Veramente li ho avvertiti io…
Miles Edgeworth (annuisce): Giusto.
Sengoku (sul punto di esplodere): Ga-arp…
(Garp continua a sorridere amabilmente)
Il Giudice: Quindi il processo è perfettamente regolare. E lo sarà anche il mio verdetto. Dichiaro l’imputato…
Aokiji (fuori campo): Un attimo!
(La stanza, già abbastanza silenziosa, divenne una tomba; tutti trattengono il fiato. L’ammiraglio Aokiji si era lentamente alzato in piedi, togliendosi la mascherina dagli occhi.)
Aokiji: Credo che sia ancora presto per la sentenza.
Maya (scontenta): E perché mai?
Aokiji: La difesa ha affermato molte cose, plausibili, lo riconosco.
Il Giudice (perplesso, ancora col martelletto a mezz’aria): Ma lei è sicuro di aver seguito il processo?
Aokiji (annuisce): Ho il sonno molto leggero. Come stavo dicendo, la difesa ha sostenuto, ad esempio, che l’imputato sia un cacciatore di taglie. Plausibile, ma vero? Credevo che il tribunale fosse fatto apposta per scoprire la verità.
Miles Edgeworth (piccato): Infatti è così.
Aokiji: Questo vuol dire che dobbiamo ancora sentire una testimonianza. La testimonianza di chi può veramente dirci se quest’ipotesi è vera.
Phoenix Wright (terrorizzato): E chi?
Aokiji (sorride): L’imputato stesso.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ditemi che è un incubo…
Il Giudice: Che ne pensa, procuratore
Miles Edgeworth (accasciato sul bancone): Nnngh… Credo… Credo che, per onore del vero, si debba procedere a questo interrogatorio…
Il Giudice: Molto bene. L’imputato salga per la sua deposizione.
(Con molta calma, Ace viene liberato dalla sedia a cui era incatenato e viene fatto scendere in aula per potersi accomodare sul banco. Ace sorride a Maya, che ricambia alzando il pollice. Phoenix guarda male entrambi)
Franziska Von Karma: Testimone, nome e occupazione.
(Non agita la frusta, che anzi giace abbandonata in un angolo.
(Phoenix la Guarda male)
Portuguese D. Ace: Mi chiamo Portuguese D. Ace, e sono… (leggera pausa, si volta verso di Phoneix sorridendo) come ha detto il mio avvocato, faccio il cacciatore di taglie.
(L’aula scoppia nel caos ed Edgeworth, preparato, si tappa le orecchie.
Phoenix fissa Ace con gli occhi spalancati.)
Akainu: Sta chiaramente mentendo!
Franziska Von Karma: Testimone! (riprende la sua solita frusta e postura) Lei non ha mai ritirato i premi per i pirati che ha sconfitto!
Portuguese D. Ace (sempre sorridendo): No, non l’ho fatto. Sarebbe stato strano che un pirata andasse in marina per prendere dei soldi, no?
Il Giudice: Già, in effetti… Ma lei non è veramente un pirata…
Miles Edgeworth: Ecco, ci spieghi questa, testimone. Se voleva fare il cacciatore di taglie, perché se ne andava in giro con un Jolly Roger?
Portuguese D. Ace: Ecco, avevo un preciso motivo… (Ace si morde le labbra, poi china la testa) Ormai… Sapete tutti chi è mio padre. Fin da piccolo, ho sempre dovuto combattere con quello che era… E con quello che comportava essere suo figlio.
Franziska Von Karma (rimette la frusta sul banco): Tutti si aspettavano che diventasse come lui. E se non l’avesse fatto, sarebbe comunque stato guardato con sospetto…
Portuguese D. Ace: Infatti. (annuisce tristemente) Non potevo diventare un marine, come voleva il nonno… Ma volevo comunque fare qualcosa contro la pirateria.
Sengoku: Questo non spiega il Jolly Roger.
Portuguese D. Ace: Ci stavo arrivando (Sorrisetto) Per tutta la mia vita… Le persone hanno solo sostenuto che Roger fosse un mostro. Solo mio nonno, che ci aveva combattuto contro, aveva un’opinione leggermente diversa… Ma era sempre l’opinione di un marine. (Deglutisce). Volevo… Volevo che qualcuno mi dicesse che mio padre non era… Che io non ero…
Il Giudice (commosso): Va bene, va bene. Con chi voleva parlare?
Portuguese D. Ace: Con i membri della sua ciurma.” (Ace finge di tirare su con il naso) Temevo che non sarei riuscito ad avvicinarli in nessun altro modo, se non come pirata. Sarebbe stato anche più credibile… Che io fossi suo figlio. Se avessi continuato a prendermela solo con i pirati, la mia coscienza sarebbe stata a posto… E avrei potuto incontrare quelle persone…
Il Giudice (comprensivo): Capisco, capisco.
Phoenix Wright: Ci parli di quello che è accaduto con Barbabianca.
Portuguese D. Ace: Volevo batterlo. Riuscire dove mio padre aveva fallito. Ma mi sono ritrovato in una pessima situazione. Loro erano convinti che io fossi davvero un pirata, non hanno mai sospettato… E così, ho deciso di continuare a farglielo credere. Quando mi sono accorto che, al momento, non potevo sconfiggere Barbabianca, ho deciso di aspettare. Aspettare di diventare più forte, di fargli abbassare la guardia, prima di riuscire ad ucciderlo. La caccia a Barbanera doveva essere solo un altro passo su questa strada, ma… (Abbassa lo sguardo, scuotendo la testa)
Miles Edgeworth: Testimone, perché non ha provato a spiegare la sua versione dei fatti quando è stato arrestato? Portuguese D. Ace: Perché non era conveniente.
Phoenix Wright: Conveniente..?
Portuguese D. Ace: Se l’avessi detto, probabilmente non mi avrebbe creduto nessuno. In compenso, la notizia avrebbe potuto raggiungere Barbabianca. Visto che mi aveva costretto ad entrare in ciurma e quello che era successo con Teach, lui avrebbe potuto crederci. E allora non sarebbe venuto a salvarmi, e la marina non avrebbe potuto ucciderlo.
Il Giudice: Sta… Sta dicendo che…
Portuguese D. Ace: Non ero riuscito ad ucciderlo con le mie forze. Ma so che è vecchio e malato. Contro tutta la marina schierata, nella loro base, sarebbe stata una missione suicida. Certo, lo era anche la mia, ma morire per morire… Almeno avrei portato una serie di pericolosi criminali con me.
Oldbag (fuori campo): E’ così… Così… Eroico!!
(Espressione terrorizzata di Edgeworth)
Franziska Von Karma: Allora perché ha accettato di farsi difendere?
Portuguese D. Ace: Perché è stato mio nonno a chiedere l’aiuto dell’avvocato. (alza la testa per fissare Garp negli occhi) Della ciurma di Barbabianca non me ne importa nulla, ma mio nonno, come mio fratello… Sono le persone a cui tengo di più al mondo. Farei di tutto per loro. E se mio nonno aveva deciso di provare a salvarmi… Dovevo provarci anche io.
(Garp distoglie lo sguardo e si copre i il volto con la mano, non per nascondere le lacrime, ma le risate)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Beati loro che si divertono…
Il Giudice: Procuratore, vede qualche contraddizione in questa testimonianza?
Miles Edgeworth (fra I denti): Nnno…
Il Giudice: E lei, signor Wright?
Phoenix Wright: No, Vostro Onore.
Il Giudice: Allora, stavolta è davvero il momento di emettere un verdetto. E voi vergognatevi! Dovreste seriamente pensare di arruolare questo ragazzo in marina!
(Garp cade dalla sedia dal ridere, mentre Sengoku fissa il giudice con la bocca e gli occhi spalancati)
Il Giudice: Dichiaro l’imputato… Non colpevole!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): E grazie a Gumshoe per i soliti coriandoli…
(Phienix sviene).
1 Novembre, ore 15.15
Enies Lobby
Bagni del tribunale
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright)
(Scenografia: un bagno con e mattonelle bianche e blu e il simbolo della marina)
(Situazione: Phoenix si sta sciacquando il viso per riprendersi; la porta si apre dietro di lui e appare Edgeworth)
Miles Edgeworth: Tutto bene, Wright?
Phoenix Wright: Diciamo di sì… (Si volta a fissarlo tristemente) Ti rendi conto di quello che abbiamo fatto oggi?
(Edgworth non risponde, si limitava a stringersi il braccio guardando da un’altra parte)
Phoenix Wright: Abbiamo consciamente fatto assolvere un colpevole che ha prestato falsa testimonianza in tribunale… Be’, è questa la giustizia o la verità che volevamo?
Miles Edgeworth: Ammetto che è stata una cosa insolita. Ma è giustizia quella?” (Indica la bruciatura che spicca ancora chiara sulla guancia di Phoenix) Sono cosciente che siamo andati contro tutti i nostri principi, ma… Quel ragazzo meritava davvero una condanna a morte? E credimi, non lo direi se non avessi passato tutto il mese ad interrogare persone che dicevano solo un gran bene di lui, ma che non potevano testimoniare per paura della marina… E Kay mi prenderà in giro a vita per questo!
(Phoenix sorride)
Phoenix Wright: Che ne pensa Franziska di tutto questo?
Miles Edgeworth (alza le spalle): Boh. Da quando ha conosciuto quella Sady-chan sembra un’altra…
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Oh mio Dio…
Phoenix Wright: Non sono sicuro che sia una buona notizia…
Miles Edgeworth: Già. Beh, ora devo andare a compiere il mio dovere. Augurami buona fortuna.”
Phoenix Wright: Perché?
Miles Edgeworth: Devo andare dall’ammiraglio Akainu a farmi consegnare le chiavi delle manette di seastone del tuo cliente.
Phoenix Wright: Oh… Condoglianze.
(Edgeworth esce, Phoenix torna a sciacquarsi il viso si sistema un attimo i capelli a porcospino. Non sente nemmeno la porta che si apriva dietro di lui ed i passi di qualcuno che si avvicinano)
1 Novembre, ore 15.45
Enies Lobby
Torre della giustizia
(Personaggi in scena: Miles Edgeworth, Maya, Ace)
(Scenografia: il cortile esterno del tribunale di Enies Lobby)
(Situazione: Edgeworth cammina verso Maya e Ace, che sono sdraiati sul selciato, a godersi il sole che splendeva oltre le nuvole; Maya si alza e saluta Phoenix quando lo vede)
Miles Edgeworth (con un piccolo inchino): Buongiorno. E’ pronto a tornare un uomo libero?
Portuguese D. Ace (sconvolto): Come ci è riuscito, accidenti?
Miles Edgeworth (Distoglielo lo sguardo): Diciamo solo… Che la frusta di Franziska è stata molto utile in questa occasione particolare.
Portuguese D. Ace (scoppia a ridere): Deve essere imbevuta di un haki superpotente!
(Ace si alza e lascia che Edgeworth apra quelle manette.
Ace rimane poi una vita a fissarsi i polsi neri dai lividi ed infine li alza verso il cielo, stiracchiandosi le braccia)
Portuguese D. Ace: Era una vita che non lo facevo!!
Maya: Congratulazioni, Ace! (Lo abbraccia) Ora, però, hai bisogno di un bagno.
Portuguese D. Ace (sorridendo): Credo che tu abbia decisamente ragione....
Miles Edgeworth: Il treno marino partirà tra poco. Se lo prendete, non dovrete aspettare molto a Water Seven per andare all’isola di San Popula, per poi imbarcarvi per la nostra isola. Ma lei che cosa ha in mente di fare ora?
Portuguese D. Ace: Boh. (sorriso furbo sul volto) Forse entrerò in marina. (Annuisce con convinzione)
Maya: Nah, basta che non ti fa arrestare di nuovo.
(Edgeworth sta per allontanarsi quando improvvisamente si sente risuonare una sirena)
Miles Edgeworth: L’allarme!
Maya: Che cosa succede?
Miles Edgeworth: Non ne ho idea.
(Si dirigono tutti al cancello d’entrata, i soldati corrono nella stessa direzione
L’intera flotta di Barbabianca, compresa la nave ammiraglia bloccava l’accesso.
Sulla prua della Moby Dick troneggia lo stesso Edward Newgate, alabarda in mano.
Edgeworth rabbrividisce)
Sengoku: Questa è tutta colpa vostra. Abbiamo abbassato la guardia per via del processo, e queste sono le conseguenze.
(Kay arriva al fianco di Edgeworth.
Edgeworth le mette una mano sulla spalla di Kay per bloccarla)
Miles Edgeworth: Quindi, mi state dicendo che io sarei da incolpare perché voi, invece di compiere il vostro lavoro, stavate cercando di fare il mio?
Portuguese D. Ace: E’ me che vogliono.
Maya (preoccupata): Sì, ma non puoi andare! Loro sono i nemici!
Akainu (ironico): Già, non puoi andare. Tu sei un bravo ragazzo, no..?
Barbabianca: Ace! È ora di tornare a casa! Abbiamo il tuo avvocato.
Maya: Nick!
(Il corpo svenuto di Wright sembra piccolo in mano a quel gigante
Maya non era più al mio fianco: aveva evocato Roger)
Gold Roger: Non cambi proprio mai, eh, Newgate?”
(Ace fissa Roger nel corpo di Maya con occhi spalancati
(Garp e lo stesso Barbabianca guardano Roger nei vestiti da medium e scoppiano a ridere)
Gold Roger: Ok, ok. Non sono proprio al mio massimo, insomma, non è colpa mia se la moda è questa…
Barbabianca (serio): Ma puoi ancora combattere conciato così?
Gold Roger: Sì, posso. (Si volta) Garp, non sono certo stato la persona migliore del mondo, ma… Lascia almeno che aiuti mio figlio ora.
Garp (alza le spalle): Ehi, sei già morto… Non è che ti possiamo giustiziare di nuovo…
Portuguese D. Ace (leggero sorrisetto, quindi scuote la testa): Solo perché devo salvare il signor avvocato…
Miles Edgeworth: Kay, andiamo.
Kay Faraday: Ehh?! Ma io volevo vedere come andava a finire questa commedia…
Miles Edgeworth (pensando): Appunto, commedia… Una recita.
Miles Edgeworth: Non lo direi ad alta voce, se fossi in te…
(Avviene il primo terremoto)
Kay Faraday: Signor Edgeworth!! Non faccia così!
1 Novembre, ore 17.30
Moby Dick
Cambusa
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright, Maya, Marco, Ace, Barbabianca e tutta la sua ciurma)
(Scenografia: cambusa di una nave, pareti in legno, taglie appese ovunque)
(Situazione: Phoenix è sdraiato a terra, Marco sta vegliando su di lui)
(Phoenix apre lentamente gli occhi. Si rialza stiracchiandosi le spalle addormentate)
Marco: Ben svegliato!
(Phoenix fissa Marco)
Phoenix Wright: Per favore, non uccidermi!
Marco (interrogativo): E perché dovrei ucciderla, avvocato? (Sorride) Lei ha salvato Ace.
Phoenix Wright: Oh, ehm… Davvero? (Sbatte le palpebre) No, sa… Per quello che è uscito in tribunale…
Marco: Ma stava mentendo, no? Satch ce l’ha assicurato, e poi non è stato il Babbo ad assumerla? (alza le spalle) Il potere della sua assistente è veramente figo. Non avrei mai immaginato di poter rivedere Satch o Roger così… (Scoppia a ridere)
Phoenix Wright: Maya! Dov’è? Sta bene?
(Marco si volta e mi indicò la porta.
Phoenix lo segue lentamente finché non arrivano sull’enorme ponte principale della nave: una quantità immensa di pirati sta festeggiando, bevendo e ballando. Maya è in mezzo a loro e sembrava divertirsi come e più di loro)
Marco: Mi sembra che stia piuttosto bene…
Phoenix Wright (sconvolto): Già.
Barbabianca: Buongiorno, signor Wright.
(Phoenix alzai lo sguardo ricambia il saluto di Barbabianca, che se ne sta seduto appoggiato al resto della scala che portava ai piani superiori della coperta)
Barbabianca: Le faccio i miei complimenti. Non mi sarei mai aspettato che ce la facesse.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Scusa..?
Phoenix Wright: Ehm, e allora perché mi ha assunto?
Marco (sorridendo): Un diversivo. Le difese di Enies Lobby sono più labili rispetto a quelle di Marineford, e contavamo di approfittare del processo per salvare Ace evitando di combattere contro la marina… (Batté una mano sulla spalla di Phoenix) Ma lei ha superato le nostre aspettative! Ci ha risparmiato una fatica.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Non ci posso credere… Bella fiducia avevano avuto in me! E io che pensavo di essere la loro ultima speranza…
Maya: Nick! Ehi, Nick! Ti sei svegliato, finalmente! Vieni a bere assieme a noi!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Tu non dovresti bere, sei minorenne!
Phoenix Wright: No, grazie…
Portuguese D. Ace: Ehi, avvocato!
(Ace è adesso pulito da tutto il sangue e ha le ferite fasciate)
Phoenix Wright (fissandolo): Tu… Tu… Tu hai mentito sotto giuramento! In tribunale!
Portuguese D. Ace (lo fissa, alza le spalle e sorride): Pirata.
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Mi arrendo…
Phoenix Wright: Ehm, noi ora dovremo andare… A meno che voi due non abbiate qualcosa di cui discutere…
(Ace arrossisce fino alla punta dei capelli)
Maya: Oh, potremo farlo tranquillamente dopo. Hanno detto che ci daranno un passaggio fino a casa!
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Ah, sì..? Che gioia…
Marco (mette un braccio sulle spalle di Phienix) Coraggio, avvocato, festeggi la sua vittoria con noi. Beva, beva.
(Phoenix afferra il bicchiere pieno di sake che Marco gli offre e lo beve tutto fino alla goccia)
4 Novembre, ore 18.30
Studio Legale Wright & Co.
(Personaggi in scena: Phoenix Wright e Maya)
(Scenografia: il corridoio della casa di Phoenix)
(Situazione: Phoenix sta camminando nel corridoio di casa, barcollando per i residui del mal di mare e della sbronza, Maya cammina silenziosamente dietro di lui)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Vorrei solo stendermi a letto e dormire per settimane, anzi, mesi. Professionalmente, sono deluso. Ma… Mi ha fatto piacere vedere Ace finalmente soddisfatto, ed anche essere riuscito finalmente a farlo parlare con sua madre. Be’, quello non è nemmeno merito mio…
(Phoenix apre la porta dello studio e viene accolto da una pioggia di stelle filanti.)
Voci varie tutte assieme: Bentornati!
(C’è il gruppo al completo: Godot, Gumshoe, Ema, Kay e anche Pearl, che corre subito ad abbracciare la cugina. Phoenix invece ero rimane a fissare incredulo la stanza: le pareti sono riparate e intonacate, i mobili nuovi, e le pratiche ordinate nella libreria. È incredulo)
Phoenix Wright (con gli occhi spalancati): Siete stati voi..?.
Iris (in disparte, nella penombra, a fianco alla scrivania): No, credo che siano stati i tuoi amici pirati. Hanno anche lasciato questa valigia per te.
Gumshoe: E qui ci sono un sacco di richieste di lavoro (porgendo a Phoenix un pacco di lettere) Tutti pirati. (Phoenix prende il pacco di lettere e lo getta nel cestino)
Phoenix Wright (pensando): Basta emozioni di questo tipo…
(Phoenix si avvicina alla valigia e la apre, un po’ titubante. All’interno c’è un veloce messaggio di Ace (con un’impronta bruciata sopra), che dice solamente ‘Grazie. Di tutto.’.
Maya: Bene, visto che siamo tutti qui, direi di andare a cena fuori! Offre Nick!
Tutti, ma la voce di Gumshoe è quella che si sente di più e più a lungo: Sììì!
(Phoenix è bloccato a fissare il vero contenuto della valigia: soldi. Duecentocinquanta milioni di Berry all’interno.
Maya: Allora, Nick, è vero che paghi tu?
(Phoenix fissa i soldi ancora una volta, poi si volta lentamente)
Phoenix Wright: Ehm… Non ho obiezioni… -
.
Dopo una lunga serie di squadre e squadrette sparse per tutta Europa, finalmente arrivò la chiamata definitiva, quella che Oikawa aspettava da tutta la vita. Una chiamata per giocare nel campionato italiano. E non in una squadra qualsiasi, nossignore, nella squadra che aveva vinto la Champions e lo stesso campionato l’anno precedente.
La Lube Civitanova.
“Il nostro attuale palleggiatore titolare,” aveva iniziato a dire l’agente della Lube, in un inglese abbastanza stentato, “purtroppo non rinnoverà il contratto con noi l’anno prossimo. Abbiamo già un secondo palleggiatore che pensiamo di confermare come titolare, quindi, ma proprio per questo vorremmo un palleggiatore giovane come nuovo secondo. Come società, ci teniamo sempre a scegliere giocatori che possiamo far crescere all’interno della nostra squadra.”
A Oikawa andava benissimo. Nemmeno lui, per quanto bravo potesse essere, si aspettava di giocare immediatamente titolare all’interno di una squadra famosa come la Lube. Poteva andare bene probabilmente in una squadra di seconda fascia, dove c’era un altro connazionale – non uno di quelli che aveva incontrato nel corso dei tornei scolastici – che militava lì come banda.
Già però avere la possibilità di alzare la palla per qualcuno dei giocatori della Lube, anche solo in allenamento, l’avrebbe aiutato a crescere. E poi chissà, magari poteva già dimostrare il suo valore e diventare immediatamente primo palleggiatore. Non metteva limiti alla provvidenza, né al suo talento.
Poiché momentaneamente era senza contratto e senza squadra, l’agente della Lube gli fece la proposta di iniziare a presentarsi agli allenamenti, se voleva. Non potevano ancora fare una presentazione ufficiale, e non l’avrebbero contrattualizzato fino alla fine del campionato, con tutto quello che ne conseguiva (stipendio, disponibilità di alloggio, ecc).
Il coach era disponibile, e Oikawa era più che intenzionato a prendere parte il prima possibile alla sua squadra. A mettere il piede in campo e non levarlo più.
Civitanova come città non sembrava il massimo – Oikawa era molto condizionato dalle foto dei viaggi turistici spacciate dalle agenzie in Giappone, che mostravano chissà quali meraviglie delle città più famose – ma non era lì per divertimento. Dopo aver preso la stanza nell’albergo, seguì le indicazioni per raggiungere la palestra.
L’agente era all’entrata della palestra, gli fece fare un breve tour, gli mostrò lo spogliatoio e poi gli chiese di cambiarsi (ma in quello degli ospiti) per poi entrare in palestra per conoscere l’allenatore.
Oikawa fu accolto dal rumore di palloni che battevano sul parquet uno dietro l’altro. La squadra era già tutta in campo, ad allenarsi. La presentazione con l’allenatore fu breve e poco memorabile, perché Oikawa era davvero più interessato a vedere i giocatori in campo.
Soprattutto lui, Bruno, il palleggiatore titolare.
Ovviamente Oikawa già lo conosceva, difficile non conoscere un palleggiatore che era ritenuto il migliore al mondo, e che aveva vinto tutto ciò che si poteva vincere nel corso della sua vita.
Vederlo dal vivo faceva tutto un altro effetto. E poi era altissimo, molto più di quanto sembrava in televisione – a dir la verità, erano tutti altissimi, delle vere bestie a livello fisico. A una certa uno di loro – uno dei tre cubani - gli venne quasi addosso nel tentativo di recuperare una palla e Oikawa temette seriamente di morire. Persino quando suddetto cubano gli chiese scusa, per un attimo Oikawa temette che lo volesse uccidere.
L’unico della sua altezza era il Libero, che si presentò come Fabio.
Non ebbe molto a che farci inizialmente perché faceva un allenamento specifico per conto suo assieme al secondo libero, e ad Oikawa non fu permesso di partecipare, ovviamente, né alla partita di allenamento né agli allenamenti più intensi che ovviamente erano riservati alla squadra titolare che stava ancora finendo la stagione.
Tuttavia, il libero in questione si avvicinò ad Oikawa alla fine dell’allenamento, quasi spaventandolo perché non si aspettava che persone della squadra fossero interessate ad avvicinarsi a lui.
“Ciao,” gli disse, quasi spaventandolo, una mano sulla spalla. “Hai qualcosa da fare adesso?”
“Ehm… no?”
“Ti offro un caffè, allora.”
Nella lingua degli italiani, significava andare in uno dei locali che chiamavano bar e prendere non necessariamente un caffè. Fabio infatti prese un succo e Oikawa stesso optò per un più dolce cappuccino: aveva già avuto la sfortuna di provare il caffè italiano e non faceva per lui.
All’inizio, la conversazione fu molto semplice, Fabio gli chiese in che squadre avesse giocato, come si stesse trovando, com’era la pallavolo in Giappone, cose così. Fu molto stupito da tutta la storia di Oikawa, che era passato per il beach volley in Brasile prima di tornare alla pallavolo indoor. Fabio era rimasto sempre in Italia, dopo aver vinto con la Nazionale U17 era stato preso da una squadra di serie A e poi era approdato alla Lube al suo secondo anno. Oltre a essere stato convocato per la nazionale maggiore, ovviamente.
Oikawa sentì di odiarlo un po’. Nonostante il suo talento e il suo successo, dopo le superiori non era riuscito a farsi prendere da nessuna squadra (la sconfitta ai tempi delle medie ancora gli bruciava) e aveva così optato per fare diverse esperienze all’estero, Brasile incluso. Questo però gli aveva momentaneamente precluso la possibilità di essere convocato in Nazionale, al contrario di chi una volta era un suo inferiore ed ora era stato eletto a miglior palleggiatore del Giappone.
Fabio prese il suo cellulare, ci smanettò un po’ e poi lo passò a Oikawa, dopo aver fatto partire un video di youtube.
Poco convinto, Oikawa lo prese e guardò il video. Si intitolava “The Best Libero in the World: 10 moments” e in effetti riprodusse dieci fantastiche azioni di un Libero della nazionale francese (anche se, fra le varie maglie che indossava, Oikawa riconobbe anche quella della Lube).
Oikawa riteneva il gesto atletico dei palleggiatori la cosa migliore della pallavolo, ma doveva riconoscere che quel particolare libero aveva un modo aggraziato di muoversi, e per di più aveva preso palle impossibili e in maniera altrettanto impossibile le aveva restituite all’alzatore nella maniera corretta. Comprendeva perché lo avessero considerato il libero migliore del mondo.
“Perché mi hai fatto vedere questo video?”
“Lui era il Libero titolare della Lube un paio di anni fa,” Fabio disse. “Poi un’altra squadra italiana lo assunse, adesso gioca nell’Itas Trentino.”
“Come mai?”
Fabio alzò le spalle. “Spesso i giocatori cambiano squadra, qui in Italia, per provare a cambiare modalità di gioco e tutto. Non sta a me giudicare le scelte di altri. E non è questa la cosa importante.”
“E quale sarebbe allora?”
“Che quello era il Libero della Lube prima di me, e quando io ho iniziato a giocare con la Lube avevo alle spalle solo una vittoria con una Nazionale giovanile, e un’esperienza di un anno in serie A. Sai quante critiche mi sono preso?”
“Immagino non sia stato facile sostituire uno come lui,” mormorò Oikawa restituendogli il cellulare.
“No, infatti. E non lo è tutt’ora.” Fabio sorrise. “Non è stato facile l’anno scorso, ma la squadra mi ha aiutato, abbiamo lavorato assieme e molti, alla fine, hanno detto che parte della vittoria dello scudetto è stata merito mio e delle mie difese.”
“Una bella soddisfazione.”
“Quello che voglio dire è che nemmeno per te sarà facile sostituire uno come Bruno. Ma qui potrai crescere. Nessuno si aspetterà da te che potrai fare subito quello che faceva Bruno, ma si aspetterà che tu diventi capace di imparare a farlo. La differenza sta tutta qui.”
Oikawa non sapeva se meritava quell’attenzione, ma era un po’ commosso dal fatto che Fabio si fosse rivisto in lui ed era venuto esplicitamente per consolarlo.
“Sono venuto qui apposta,” gli rispose. “E prima o poi avrò un mio video qua dentro.”
“Ci conto,” Fabio rispose, e poi si alzò e pagò lui il conto.
Oikawa lo guardò andar via pensando che aveva una gran voglia di tornare ad allenarsi. -
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“Non era necessario che mi aiutassi a fare il trasloco,” disse Yuuri, mentre Viktor, con Maccachin al seguito, zompettava attorno alla stanza, con gli occhi pieni di interesse.
“Lo faccio volentieri!” risposte Viktor. “Non avrai mica… qualcosa da nascondere, he?” aggiunge, lanciandogli un sorrisetto ammiccante.
“Ma figurati!” Suo malgrado, Yuuri arrossì. Nonostante tutti gli anni passati, Viktor aveva sempre la capacità di metterlo in imbarazzo sulle cose più banali.
“Bene. Mettiamoci al lavoro! Prima finiamo, prima possiamo andare a gustarci il katsudon di tua madre!”
Gli scatoloni erano già aperti sul pavimento della stanza, per cui si misero meticolosamente a riempirli. Yuuri spedì Viktor ad occuparsi dell’armadio dei vestiti, che era probabilmente la cosa meno rischiosa dell’intera stanza, mentre lui si dedicava alla libreria e alla cassettiera. Suo padre salì nella stanza e portò al piano di sotto le prime due scatole piene, mentre loro continuavano con il loro lavoro di liberazione.
In fondo alla cassettiera, Yuuri trovò la sua vecchia scatola dedicata al pattinaggio. Dentro c’erano conservati i suoi primissimi pattini, assieme a un’interessante raccolta dei souvenir che aveva messo da parte su Viktor. Prese per prima fuori i pattini: erano così piccoli, a rivederli adesso. Sempre bianchi con le lame argentate, ma ognuno di essi gli stava in una mano. A toccare la pelle rovinata con le dita, Yuuri si ricordò del primo momento in cui lui e Yuuko avevano messo piede su una pista di pattinaggio.
In quel momento, dietro di lui, Viktor fischiettava e parlottava a bassa voce con Maccachin sul fatto che Yuuri vestisse da vecchio e che decisamente avrebbero fatto shopping all’aeroporto prima di prendere definitivamente il volo per la Russia. In realtà era solo una scusa di Viktor per usare Yuuri come suo bambolotto personale.
Yuuri lo amava abbastanza per sopportare anche quello.
Ma approfittando della sua distrazione, mise la mano dentro la scatola e ne estrasse una vecchia rivista. All’epoca in Giappone il pattinaggio era già abbastanza famoso, per cui capitava spesso che le riviste di sport fornissero approfondimenti o addirittura speciali dedicati a questo o quel pattinatore. Normalmente si trattava di pattinatori Giapponesi, ma in alcuni casi particolari poteva succedere anche per quelli stranieri, soprattutto se erano pattinatori del calibro di Viktor.
Yuuri si ricordava che aveva girato l’intera città per trovare un’edicola che avesse quell’inserto speciale, e aveva trascinato Yuuko con sé come supporto morale nel caso non l’avessero trovata. Non era la stessa rivista in cui aveva scoperto che Viktor aveva un cane, quella era arrivata prima. Quando era uscita questa, Viktor era ancoera più famoso, e Yuuri era nel pieno della sua adoloscenza.
Il fatto che la rivista offrisse al suo interno anche un poste di Viktor quasi a grandezza naturale di sicuro non aiutava, e nella sua vita Yuuri era stato felice che Viktor non avesse mai accettato (perché Yuuri dubitava che non gli fosse mai stato proposto) di farsi sponsorizzare da qualche azienda di intimo.
Anche il poster era all’interno della scatola. Raffigurava Viktor mollemente seduto su una delle panchine di metallo all’interno di uno spogliatoio. Indossava una delle tute da allenamento, di colore nero, attillata in modo da accentuare i muscoli delle gambe. Sulle spalle, la giacca della nazionale russa. Non indossava i pattini, ma le scarpe da ginnastica. Teneva i pattini per le stringhe con la sua mano sinistra, neri con le lame dorate. All’epoca aveva ancora i capelli argentati lunghi, i quali ricadevano mollemente sulle spalle.
Quel poster era rimasto a lungo appeso sopra il letto di Yuuri, come a proteggere i suoi sogni.
L’ultimo oggetto all’interno della scatola era un cd. Di quelli che si compravano al supermercato, da masterizzare, e che andavano di moda per quei circa sei mesi tra la morte del floppy disk e l’avvento dei DVD e subito dopo delle penne USB. Non c’era scritto nulla, né sulla copertina né sul CD stesso, ma Yuuri non ne aveva bisogno per ricordarsi di cosa conteneva.
Era una collezione che Yuuri aveva gelosamente raccolto nei primi anni, un mix tra interviste ed esibizioni di Viktor, tutte simpaticamente catalogate assieme. Yuuri aveva concentrato tutto il suo sapere tecnologico nella creazione di quel CD, che conteneva i file singoli e poi un file unico, che Yuuri aveva creato da solo tagliuzzando e incollando assieme tutti i suoi file precedenti.
I video normali erano per paura che sparissero in qualche modo dalla rete. Il file unico, invece, aveva degli scopi decisamente meno nobili.
Era nato nel periodo in cui Yuuri era entrato direttamente nella piena pubertà dell’adolescenza, il momento in cui un giorno sì e un giorno pure si svegliava con la solita erezione mattutina a fargli compagnia.
Era anche il periodo in cui aveva una di quelle grosse cotte per Yuuko, che era la ragazza più carina della scuola e sostanzialmente la sua migliore amica. Ma non aveva mai avuto la passione per la masturbazione, e dopotutto, a differenza di alcuni suoi compagni, farlo immaginandosi una persona reale che conosceva lo imbarazzava. Non avrebbe più potuto guardare Yuuko con gli stessi occhi se avesse fatto una cosa del genere.
Viktor arrivava al momento giusto. Yuuri lo ammirava e lo trovava bello al punto giusto da poterlo utilizzare come parte della sua immaginazione, e anche se Yuuri si stava allenando nella speranza di diventare un pattinatore professionista, era una cosa così lontana dalla realtà al momento che non sembrava così terribile farlo.
Per cui aveva preparato il video: si chiudeva in camera, lo metteva sul pc, metteva le cuffie e ascoltava l voce di Viktor con la mano sul suo pene. Non che Viktor dicesse le cose più romantiche del mondo nelle sue interviste, ma la voce era abbastanza per far immaginare Yuuri, e alcune parti particolari delle esibizioni facevano il resto.
Fu solo un periodo della vita di Yuuri, e anche uno abbastanza imbarazzante, per questo aveva nascosto tutto nella scatola dei ricordi una volta che aveva fatto il suo debutto finale come pattinatore. Adesso era ancora più imbarazzante e ridicolo, ma ugualmente una memoria che teneva cara, sapendo che adesso poteva masturbarsi con il vero Viktor di fronte a sé.
Poteva fare ben di più con Viktor, adesso. Ma non voleva pensarci.
“Yuu-ri!” La voce squillante di Viktor lo riscosse dai suoi pensieri. “Guarda un po’ qui cosa ho trovato.”
Era un vecchio quaderno polveroso, ma Yuuri lo riconobbe subito, e arrossì. Era un quaderno che Yuuri aveva iniziato quando aveva iniziato a seguire il pattinaggio davvero con assiduità, cioè quando era seriamente diventato un super fan di Viktor, che all’epoca era ancora un juniores.
Da lì aveva seguito la sua carriera lungamente, stampando da internet tutti i pdf delle sue prestazioni, le foto delle riviste, e sostanzialmente aveva fatto un archivio di ogni singola prestazione di Viktor, aggiungendoci di lato i suoi commenti a riguardo. Non tutti erano di tipo propriamente tecnico, anzi, spesso e volentieri si lasciava andare a discussioni che non erano adatte a un minorenne, nonostante lui lo fosse.
Era una groupie in tutto e per tutto.
Si era praticamente dimenticato dell’esistenza di quel diario (aveva smesso di tenerlo quando era entrato anche lui nel circuito professionistico, dato che la differenza di livello era imbarazzante) quindi Viktor l’aveva trovato. E adesso, con un sorriso furbo e malizioso, lo stava tenendo aperto a una pagina in particolare, mostrando a Yuuri una sua foto, che lo Yuuri ragazzino aveva tempestato di cuori disegnati con un evidenziatore rosa.
“Yuuri,” Viktor mormorò. “Hai una cotta per me?”
Quello servì a far uscire Yuuri dalla sua trance imbarazzata.
“Viktor,” rispose. “Siamo sposati.” -
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La luce azzurrina del cellulare illuminò la stanza. Nello scuro della notte, fu più che sufficiente a svegliare le due ragazze addormentate a letto. Dopo un breve stiracchiamento, Mila tirò fuori il braccio dal letto e cercò a tentoni il cellulare sul comodino. Lo prese e se lo portò sotto le coperte, scrollando il touch con il pollice per vedere che cosa aveva causato l’avviso luminoso.
Era una mail dal suo allenatore.
Tirò un sospiro di sollievo dopo averla letta.
Le braccia di Sara apparvero dietro di lei e la abbracciarono, le mani si unirono sul suo petto prima di trascinarla indietro, più vicina a sé.
“Che cosa c’è di tanto importante a quest’ora di notte?” chiese lei, la voce biascicata e impastata dal sonno.
“Mi hanno assegnato due tappe di Gran Prix.”
“Oh, bene. Dove sei? Siamo assieme?”
“Russia e Cina.”
“Meh,” borbottò Sara. “Io sono in Canada e in Francia. Meglio, eh, sono più vicina alla Francia che vuol dire meno rotture per gli spostamenti, ma…”
Mila non rispose. Spense il cellulare e lo riappoggiò sul comodino. Sara si accoccolò ancora di più accanto a lei.
“Eri davvero così preoccupata che non ti avrebbero dato tappe al Gran Prix?”
“Per te è facile,” rispose Mila. “Sei l’unica pattinatrice decente della tua nazione. Io ho perso le Olimpiadi perché hanno fatto gareggiare una ragazzina, e adesso ne faranno gareggiare tre contemporaneamente.”
Si morse leggermente il labbro, pensando che non era giusto prendersela con Sara solo perché era nata in un paese con una cultura del pattinaggio meno importante di quella russa, ma d’altronde, se non si sfogava con lei, con chi poteva farlo? E c’era davvero una parte terribile di lei che pensava che Sara fosse fortunata: con il suo parco salti, in Russia non sarebbe mai uscita dai confini nazionali.
“Sei pur sempre la vicecampionessa olimpica in carica,” le ricordò Sara. “E quanti mondiali hai vinto?”
“Vogliono che mi ritiri,” Mila rispose. “Ho fatto il mio tempo, anzi, anche di più considerando altre pattinatrici. Il quadriennio olimpico, e la medaglia olimpica. La mia carriera è finita.
“Esagerata!”
“Ho quasi diciannove anni. Sono vecchia.”
Sara rise, il suo corpo che si agitava leggermente contro la schiena di Mila. “Allora io dovrei essere decrepita. E Brenzina cosa dovrebbe dire?”
“Per i maschi è diverso.”
“In cosa?”
“Non puoi capire.”
“Allora spiegamelo.”
“Non capiresti.”
Sara sbuffò. “Fai come ti pare.” E si voltò dall’altra parte, staccandosi anche un poco dal corpo di Mila e lasciando al freddo la traccia calda sulla sua pelle.
Ma Mila non poteva spiegarlo. Sara era una privilegiata, non avrebbe mai capito cosa voleva dire perdere i campionati nazionali in Russia. Sara si poteva addirittura permettere di saltarlo e non l’avrebbe giudicata nessuno.
Per lei era diverso.
L’opinione pubblica russa l’aveva fortemente criticata dopo che aveva lasciato Yakov e la Russia per andarsi ad allenare in America con Celestino. Nonostante tutte le vittorie che aveva portato alla Russia e nonostante si fosse fatta addirittura portavoce degli atleti russi per la partecipazione alle olimpiadi, nel momento stesso in cui aveva deciso di proseguire la sua carriera ignorando i binari imposti dal corso che aveva preso il pattinaggio femminile russo, era diventata una traditrice della patria.
Ma era l’unica soluzione, per lei. In Russia le pressioni sarebbero state troppe. Yakov non era come altri allenatori, teneva alla salute dei suoi atleti, motivo per il quale aveva impedito a Yurji di fare quadrupli prima di una certa età. Ma d’altronde era conosciuto di più per il suo talento nell’allenare il campo maschile, che aveva meno problemi di età, ed era anche fortemente criticato per il suo modo di allenare vecchio.
Mila aveva necessità di andare da un allenatore che volesse valorizzare i propri atleti senza considerare il fatto che fossero russi, o già famosi.
Celestino era stata la scelta migliore, e la prima cosa che gli aveva detto era che tutti i suoi salti erano impostati male. Il lutz, soprattutto, partiva sempre dal filo sbagliato, e anche il flip aveva un filo troppo piatto. Pure l’axel aveva una partenza non bellissima, e se Mila avesse continuato così non sarebbe mai riuscita a eseguirlo triplo, il quale era uno dei suoi obiettivi per cercare di restare al passo con gli altri.
Ci avevano lavorato a lungo, e Mila aveva preso la presa su tutti i suoi salti, e su tutte le sue combinazioni triplo triplo. Lei, che era una di quelle pattinatrici che non cadeva mai in gara, che portava a casa quattro combinazioni anche quando sapeva che l’ultima sarebbe stata annullata, per il solo piacere di essere in grado di farlo, adesso aveva difficoltà con un semplice triplo doppio.
Le prime gare furono un orrore da parte sua. Era anche cresciuta ancora di altezza e non aveva più la sicurezza di una volta. Ma Celestino era al suo fianco, e piano piano Mila aveva capito il suo modo di lavorare e aveva riacquisito una certa sicurezza sui salti. I giudici sembravano favorirla ancora come una volta e, nonostante tutte le polemiche iniziali, era stata convocata anche per il mondiale, doveva si era portata a casa la medaglia di bronzo.
Ma le polemiche non erano cessate: molti pensavano fosse stata favorita in quanto russa, scippando la medaglia a una più meritevole atleta giapponese (più giovane e con il triplo axel nelle gambe), e molti non le avevano ancora perdonato il tradimento di aver lasciato la Russia, soprattutto considerando che non sembravano vedere chissà che incredibile miglioramento in lei.
E adesso, era l’anno delle quadrupliste, ragazzine di quindici anni alte un metro e zero e di un peso minore di venti chili, in grado di fare tre o quattro salti quadrupli a gara come se nulla fosse. Potevano anche essere le peggiori interpreti al mondo, ma con un bagaglio tecnico del genere erano imbattibili.
Altre atlete usa e getta, probabilmente, con un filo del luzt completamente errato e salti sottoruotati che venivano ignorati dalle giurie (giurie che lo avevano ignorato anche a lei finché non aveva deciso di lasciare la Russia). Nessuna di loro sarebbe arrivata alle Olimpiadi, fra tre anni. Ma ciascuna di loro avrebbe distrutto la carriera di Mila, che si rifiutava di fermarsi a tre anni di carriera e poco più.
Ecco perché Sara non poteva capire. Lei avrebbe continuato a partecipare a Europei e Mondiali ancora per molti anni. Non gareggiava contro nessuno se non contro sé stessa.
Mila gareggiava contro un intero sistema.
Chiuse gli occhi e tentò di addormentarsi.
La prima tappa di Gran Prix fu un disastro.
Mila cadde due volte durante lo short program, e sebbene i PCS l’avessero tirata un po’ su con il punteggio, non c’erano speranze di arrivare a podio, nemmeno con un libero perfetto. Non che Mila si sentisse in grado di essere perfetta, tra l’altro.
Così sfumava anche la possibilità di arrivare alla finale, con due terzi posti, o con un quarto e un primo forse avrebbe potuto farcela, ma vedeva bene le altre di fronte a sé, che non avrebbero ceduto di una virgola. No, non c’era da sperarci in una finale.
Era una delusione enorme: il primo anno, l’incertezza ci poteva stare. Adesso era al secondo anno con Celestino, avrebbe dovuto vedere i miglioramenti, non fare quel programma disastroso. Non capiva cosa fosse successo.
Celestino, invece, sembrava un esperto nel gestire atleti che combinavano disastri, e attribuiva tutto all’ansia da prestazione.
“Tu pensi che devi dimostrare qualcosa a qualcuno,” le disse, “e quindi ci pensi. Pensi a quello che penserà se fallirai, e questo ti crea ancora più paura di fallire, per cui, poi fallisci sul serio.”
“Dimmi qualcosa che non so.”
“Alla prossima tappa non avrai più niente da perdere, dato che la qualificazione alla finale è andata ormai. Pattina solo per vedere come sei in grado di farlo adesso.”
Non era esattamente una cosa che Mila non sapeva, si era già fatta i conti sul Gran Prix, ma annuì ugualmente. Non che avesse molte altre alternative.
Eppure dentro di sé rosicava: la finale poteva essere l’unica sua chance per accedere a mondiali e europei.
Sara era invece riuscita a classificarsi alla finale. All’ultimo posto, certo, senza possibilità di podio, però era là, tra le sei migliori pattinatrici, aveva un’altra gara e non aveva nemmeno il terrore che attanagliava Mila in attesa dei nazionali.
Riuscì solo a mandarle un messaggio breve di congratulazioni, ignorando le sue chiamate. Al momento, riusciva solo a sentirla se era in una giornata buona, e di recente ce ne erano molte poche. Solo dopo la seconda tappa, quando era riuscita a presentare due buoni programmi (ma entrambi senza flip) se l’era sentita di parlare con lei, di risentire la sua voce.
Non avevano parlato del pattinaggio. Sara aveva cianciato a lungo di suo fratello e delle ultime cosa che le aveva combinato e di come ancora non sospettasse nulla della loro relazione e di come fosse ancora completamente non consapevole di tutti i flirt che altri pattinatori maschi tentavano nei suoi confronti.
Era stato bello per un po’ togliersi dalle spalle il peso delle convocazioni.
Ma i Nazionali russi la riportarono diritta nel baratro in cui era caduta.
Il secondo giorno di allenamenti, infatti, le si ruppe un pattino. Non ne aveva di ricambio, non molti pattinatori li avevano, adattandosi come un guanto a quelli che usavano sempre. Fare una gara con un paio di pattini nuovi era impensabile. Ritirarsi, ancora meno.
Celestino, con calma e pazienza, senza smettere di far presente che avrebbe potuto rischiare un infortunio ancora più grave, le riparava il pattino con lo scotch.
“Se non ottengo un buon risultato, addio europei e mondiali.”
“Se cadi e ti infortuni, addio europei e mondiali ugualmente, forse per un tempo ancora maggiore.”
“Nemmeno tu pensi che io possa farcela, vero?”
“Non ho detto questo.”
“Ma la base del tecnico da cui parto è più bassa di altre atlete.”
“Il tuo tecnico era più basso l’anno scorso rispetto ad altre atlete, e sei arrivata a podio ugualmente.”
Grazie alle giurie, non lo disse. Lo sapevano entrambi. Ma non avrebbe avuto una giuria favorevole questa volta, tutti con gli occhi brillanti nel vedere le quadrupliste. Nemmeno Yurji era così magro quando aveva quindici anni.
Entrò in pista con rabbia in corpo e, nonostante non sentisse il pattino bene come al solito, fece il programma migliore della stagione. Mancò la combinazione triplo triplo facendo solo un doppio, ma nel complesso era stato un programma pulito.
Che le valse il quarto posto dietro alle ragazzine.
Sentiva già i mormorii dietro di sé, la consapevolezza che la stavano giudicando troppo vecchia, superata. L’anno prossimo ci sarebbero state altre quadrupliste ancora, altre ragazzine a farla sentire ancora vecchia, ancora alla fine della sua carriera, anche se aveva soltanto diciannove anni.
“Che cosa vuoi fare?” le chiese Celestino.
“Non me la sento di gareggiare così, domani,” disse lei infine. Aveva gli occhi bassi. “Hai ragione tu, non vale la pena di rischiare un infortunio.”
Celestino annuì. “Una decisione giusta. Tu cambiati pure, vado a annunciare il ritiro alla commissione.”
“Aspetta,” lo fermò lei. “Prima… vorrei scrivere una dichiarazione. Per spiegare.”
“Sanno già tutti che hai il pattino rotto.”
“Sì, ma… sappiamo tutti e due che un mio ritiro vuole anche dire che non parteciperò né agli europei né ai mondiali, nemmeno se una delle altre si infortunasse. La mia stagione quest’anno è finita, e vorrei essere io ad annunciarlo prima che lo dicano gli altri.”
“Va bene. Quando hai finito di cambiarmi andremo entrambi in sala stampa.” La squadrò poi da capo a piedi, e lei aveva già di nuovo abbassato lo sguardo.
“Ma non ti stai arrendendo, vero?”
“No.”
Ma nonostante la risposta, si sentiva debole e svuotata di tutte le energie. Magari non si era arresa, ma aveva perso, contro i suoi detrattori, contro il mondo del pattinaggio, contro le ragazzine e perfino contro la sua stessa fortuna.
Valeva davvero la pena combattere?
Sentì Sara tramite via messaggio per comunicarle che non si sarebbero viste agli Europei (per Natale e Capodanno era impossibile, perché Sara doveva obbligatoriamente passarli con la famiglia) ma non la sentì al telefono prima della fine degli Europei.
Sara riuscì ad arrivare al quarto posto, subito dopo le quadrupliste. Alcuni articoli on-line la definirono la prima dopo le marziane, e in un senso poteva anche essere vero, ma Mila avrebbe dovuto essere una marziana anche lei, visto da dove veniva, e invece…
Però adesso, forse, Sara poteva capire un po’ di più cosa significava perdere contro di loro. Ma Sara era invece particolarmente allegra. Aveva fatto due programmi puliti, aveva ottenuto il massimo della stagione e partiva carichissima per i mondiali. Michele stava super preso perché anche lui aveva sfiorato il podio per pochissimi centesimi per cui erano già in pieno allenamento pre-mondiali.
Mila li invidiava tantissimo.
“Come riesci a non essere arrabbiata?”
“Dopo aver perso, intendi?”
“Sì. No. Dopo aver perso perché sei vecchia e ci sono delle quindicenni che saltano come grilli.”
Sara rise, una risata ampia e cristallina. “Please, Mila, check your Russian privilege.”
“Che cosa?”
“Tu pensi che sia ingiusto questo modo di pattinare per le ragazzine russe? Sono d’accordo,” disse Sara. “Queste a malapena sanno mettere due crociati uno di fronte all’altro eppure ottengono otto o nove nei PCS come se piovesse, mentre altre atlete, solo perché magari non sanno fare una combinazione triplo triplo, non si vedono riconosciute la loro bravura nei passi a terra.”
Mila rimase in silenzio. Lei stava pensando di più alla capacità di saltare.
“Ma vedi, Mila, io con questa ingiustizia ci convivo dall’inizio della mia carriera,” continuò Sara. “Te l’ho detto che Michele è arrivato quarto? Gli hanno dato meno di otto alla voce performance. A quello che è arrivato prima di lui, quasi nove. Prova a guardare la differenza tra le loro due performance. Ma, ehi, l’altro pattinatore era francese. È da tutta la vita che vedo atlete prendere punteggi che non meritano sulla base della loro nazionalità. È da tutta la vita che perdo medaglie per questo. Almeno adesso ne sei consapevole anche tu.”
Non l’aveva detto in modo cattivo, anzi, c’era un che di dolce nel suo tono. “Come riesci ad andare avanti?”
“Perché amo il pattinaggio e amo pattinare,” Sara rispose, e Mila poteva sentire la sua alzata di spalle. “Quindi scendo in pista con l’idea di fare la miglior performance possibile, e poi di sperare in Dio. E tu, Mila, quando hai smesso di amare il pattinaggio?”
Alle scorse olimpiadi, Mila pensò subito. Quando non aveva vinto la medaglia d’oro per colpa di un’altra quindicenne. Eppure la sua era stata una buona performance, non aveva commesso errori palesi, e di certo i giudici avevano alzato l’asticella dei PCS della sua avversaria a discapito dell’effettiva prestazione. Non c’era molto altro che Mila avrebbe potuto fare in quella situazione, evidentemente non c’era molto che numerose pattinatrici potevano fare contro le regole dell’ISU.
A Sara però disse un’altra cosa.
“Non lo so, ma voglio iniziare di nuovo.” -
.
At first, it looks like a dream. Like the lingering feeling, one has when he wakes up, a bothering because the dream was bad. Then, as his brain becomes active and his body manages to feel the sensation around – the warm, the light, the hunger – he remembers what happened.
Haggar, the fight at the clone facility, his metal arm that was cutting down…
And that word…
Keith…
He wakes up suddenly, but a gentle hand placed on his chest kept him down.
“Relax. Everything is fine.”
Keith is there, and he’s alive. There is a gruesome scar on his right cheek, but overall he seems fine. He wears something similar to a Garrison uniform, but with red and not orange, and the symbol of Voltron instead of the Garrison one.
“A lot of things happened,” Keith murmurs again, his hand always on his chest. “I know this must be confusing.”
He looks around: he was lied in a pod, instead a room that doesn’t look like a Terran either Altean architecture, but a mixture of both of them. And he can feel the energy too.
“Haggar is no more,” Keith says. “We defeated her, so she can’t control you anymore. We wait to wake you up after that just to be sure. You’re free.”
Relief fell upon him, immediately substituted by the panic. “The others…!”
“They’re safe.” Keith nods. “I have a lot to tell you, but no rush. You must be hungry. Let me take something to eat.”
“Keith,” he calls immediately. “I… I am a clone… I didn’t… I’m so sorry…”
“I know,” Keith answers calmly. “Everything will be fine.”
If Keith believes it, he can too. As Keith is outside the room, he gets off the pod and checks the surrounding. There is a bathroom in the room, and clean clothes (Garrison uniform for officials) too. With difficulty, with only one arm, he takes off the old clothes and has a brief shower. When Keith turns back with a tray of warm food, he’s about to put on the jacket.
“Do you need a hand?” he asks.
“An arm and a shoulder too,” he jokes.
“We have to remove it entirely,” Keith informs him as he helps him to close the jacket buttons. “Sam Holt is working with Allura to make a new metal arm for you, but for now we prefer to take any risk.”
“I understand.” Shiro takes the trail with the food and, while eating, he looks intently at Keith. He looks bigger again, like quite some time passed between their last encounter. “So… what happened?”
Briefly, Keith tells him about Lotor’s defeat after their battle, and the consequent destruction of the Castle of Lions. He hears with horror about Sendak’s attack on Earth and the way Haggar used the Alteas against them. And then, Haggar final defeats.
“Right now, the Voltron Coalition is wandering around the universe to destroy the last remaining of the Galra Empire, and helping all the planets that may need it,” Keith finishes.
“Where are we?” he asks.
“IFG-Atlas. It’s a ship Sam built with Terran and Altean technologies, and it’s our new main base.”
“Looks powerful.”
Keith smirks. “You can’t imagine. If you’re ready, I wish you to meet the others.”
Being ready isn’t the right word, but he feels the first the better, so he nods and he follows Keith outside the room. The hallway of the Atlas is empty, and he guesses Keith asked everyone to stay away for a while.
They reach a meeting room: all the Paladins are there. Including Shiro. He gasps at the sight: the Shiro in front of him has entirely white hair, but no scar on the nose and two human arms.
“After the battle with Zarkon, we were able to find back another clone body,” Keith says. “Shiro’s soul was trapped in the Black Lion’s consciousness, and Allura put it in the empty body.”
“I see.” The Paladins smile at him, a courtesy smile. Shiro’s expression is serious. “So what am I doing here?”
“We,” and Keith throws a look around, “believe you deserve a second chance. Nothing was your fault, but Haggar.” He passes him a datapad.
“Ryou Shirogane?”
“He was my father’s name,” Shiro speaks for the first time. “Pidge hacked all the governance website, or at least what remained of them. At the look of everyone, you’re my twin brother, also kidnapped from the Galra for secret experiment.”
“No one will find out the truth,” Pidge assures him. “Well, except for the Atlas’ crew, but they’re loyal to us, so you’re safe.”
He looks around, incredulous.
“So, welcome to the Atlas,” Shiro murmurs, with a little smirk. “Kuro.”
For the first days, Kuro has no idea of what doing of his life. It’s not only the fact that, even unwillingly, he almost killed everyone back then and the fact that all the Atlas’ crew look at him with that sort of strange interest reserved to curious animals.
More than that, it’s the awareness that he doesn’t know what he is and what he wants. He’s not a copy of Shiro in blood and skin, he’s him, with his memory and feelings. But now Shiro is back and Kuro has no place to be himself, to be something different from him.
He also keeps himself very far away from Keith. Not only he’s still guilty about the entire ordeal, now Keith has Shiro back. Everything – including that last, terrible, three words – were for Shiro the original, not Kuro. Better put a stone on that.
Slowly, he enters in a sort of routine when Sam gives him a metal arm and he decides to try piloting one of the MFEs’ ships. Despite his prosthetic is still one of the best pilots around it, and one of the best that can pilot that kind of ships, that are very difficult to maneuver.
Staying with the MFEs pilots gives Kuro a sense of normalcy he fears to have lost, especially because they weren’t friend with Shiro – they know him, of course, but not so well. And he’s their Captain, while Kuro is one of them. It allows Kuro to create some ties that aren’t Shiro’s.
It’s during one of their break after a training, that the MFEs make Kuro realize something. He hasn’t noticed before mostly because he tried to stay away not only from Keith but from Shiro too, and from both of them together even more. But when he starts pay noticed, it’s impossible to not realize that something is broken between Shiro and Keith.
Shiro’s hand doesn’t go for Keith’s shoulder anymore, they call each other “Paladin” and “Captain” and they sit at opposite sides of the table. It’s impossible to see them together outside to official meetings, while the other Paladins hang together all time.
At first, he thinks they’re together and they’re exaggerating into keeping a low profile. But then Nadia gossips about a mysterious date Shiro may have with a member of his bridge crew and Kuro really wants to understand what happened.
Maybe Shiro doesn’t hear, being trapped in the Black Lion, Keith’s confession.
Kuro finds Keith once he returns from a diplomatic mission on Daibazaal, where his mother and Kolivan are creating a new government.
“Hey,” Keith greets him, with his usual soft smile. “How are you going? I’ve heard you’re piloting with the MFEs now.”
“Yeah, it’s nice.” There isn’t a nice way to say it, so he bursts out, “what happened between you and Shiro?”
Keith visibly startles and freezes. “Why are you asking?”
“Everybody noticed something’s off.”
“Everybody…?” Keith doesn’t turn to face him. “Nothing happened. We’re just being professional.”
“For real? Calling him Captain where every other Paladins still call him Shiro? Unless is a complicate kink you really don’t want to talk about.”
“What?” This time Keith turns, and his cheek are less red than Kuro anticipates. He sighs. “Do you really want to know?”
“Unless you really don’t want to tell me. I’m just a little… worried.”
“Well, putting it simple, Shiro and I aren’t friends anymore.”
Kuro blinks. Of all the scenarios he anticipated, this is just so incredible he takes a couple of minutes to recover, under Keith’s resigned gaze. “Wait, what?”
“You heard it right the first time.”
“But why? How it is possible?”
“It’s easy, to be honest. I just did something Shiro didn’t really like and that was the breaking point.” He releases a humorless laugh. “Guess it’s easy to say eloquent sentences like ‘I won’t give up on you’ when you’re not the one that face the consequences of the other mistake. Apparently, not even Shiro is immune to selfishness.”
“I can’t believe it,” Kuro says. In his mind, there isn’t anything that Keith can do that will make him love him less. “What did you do?”
“First of all, I took the Black Lion from him.”
“He was the one-”
“I know,” Keith snaps exasperatedly. “But he thought he would have died. Like I said, it’s easy for him to promise things when he’s not directly harmed by them.”
“Okay, but I’m pretty sure it’s something you can work on.”
“We can’t. Because I’m not going to give back the Black Lion. I’m good with it. I am a good leader.”
“Better than Shiro?” Kuro asks. His mind goes back at the time he and Keith’s leadership clashed on Lotor’s action. Keith had a very different way to act, but Kuro can’t say it’s not good. Still, Kuro has more experience, and he’s more a team worker than Keith. Like Shiro.
Keith bits his lips. “Not better, but different. And I believed – I still do – that for what we had to do, my leadership is the better choice.”
“And were you right?”
“We won, didn’t we?” He releases a small sigh. “Once back on Earth. He took a lot of initiative about plans and everything, and then he became the Captain of the Atlas. He got a giant mecha only for himself! I didn’t think he was still pissed about Black. To be honest, it’s a little petty, and I don’t like it.”
“Did you tell this to Shiro?” Maybe Shiro doesn’t really mean it.
“No. I didn’t think it was necessary.” Keith sits down on the bed. “But after all, at that point my relationship with Shiro was already been compromised. I wanted to save it, but… not at the price of myself. I like being a leader, and I don’t like Shiro pretending more from me.”
Kuro frowns. “So there was something before Black.” And then he realized. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”
“You have nothing to do with this.”
“But my presence…”
“I was the only one who wanted to save you.” Keith stands up again. “The others are scared you were since the beginning on Haggar’s side, and Shiro… well, he’s not your biggest fan.”
“Guess it isn’t very surprising.”
“No, but still unfair.”
“Oh, Keith…” Kuro murmurs, and he comes near to hug him. “Why didn’t you let me go? Not even at the clone facility…”
Kuro remembers the way he tries to fight against Haggar’s power, the way he hopes to restrain himself enough for Keith to kill him, but Keith didn’t falter. He was even sad when he had to cut the arm.
“As many time as it takes. I promised, remember?” Then, he takes a step aside and shakes his head. “Well, that’s all. Now you have your answer.”
He returns at his jobs, the back turned at Kuro.
“What if Shiro will be in danger?”
“I’ll save him, of course.” Keith’s voice is confident. “The actual situation doesn’t change what Shiro’ve done for me. If anything, it makes it hurt more.”
The next stop for Kuro is Shiro’s office, a place he avoids usually. Shiro’s tone when he greets him, especially after having talked with Keith, really shows how much Shiro doesn’t like to be in Kuro’s company. Kuro doesn’t care.
“Is it true you and Keith aren’t friend anymore?”
Shiro frowns. “He told you that?”
“Yes. But I’m not the only one that noticed that something is off between the two of them.”
“It’s no one business.” Shiro scoffs. “But I guess Keith also told you why we’re not friend anymore.”
Kuro nods again. “And that’s bullshit. Are you really giving up your friendship with Keith over something so petty?”
“Petty?”
“Yes. Petty,” Kuro replies. “I’m you, remember? I remember everything about your time with Keith at the Garrison. I remember everything of the first time in space. So I ask again: do you want to lose all this?”
“You should ask that to Keith.”
“He’s not the one offended because Black. And no,” he anticipates Kuro, “I understand you. It hurts when Black rejected me like nothing in the world. But not enough to stop being friend with Keith for this.”
Shiro laughs, not happy. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. Do you forget he left the team because of you?”
Kuro remains a little bummed by the statement. “So you feel I was wrong, and you’re doing the same thing.”
“Things are different between you and me.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that Keith did everything for you!” Shiro stands up and smashes his hands on the table. “You wanted the Black Lion? He left the team so you can have it back. But me? He didn’t even ask me if I’d like it back, he just took it and pretend everything is fine. He could have asked me, but I guess he didn’t care enough.”
“He did it because he thought I was you. It’s you he wanted to give Black back.”
“Apparently not, since I haven’t Black back and I’m the real one.” Shiro shakes his head. “I saw everything; you know? When I was inside Black. I saw how he didn’t even try to kill you at the facility, and how he was even ready to die with you.”
“Because he believes it was you!” Kuro exclaims.
“No. At that point, he knew you were a clone. And nevertheless, he wanted you back. If he likes you more than me, fine by me. I don’t need him. And he has you now, so…” Shiro shrugs.
“Fine, then!” Kuro spats.
Until now, he has hidden his feelings for Keith into a corner of his mind. He is sure those feelings come because he considers himself Shiro, so they weren’t real. Besides, Keith acted in that way with him because he thought he was Shiro. Shiro’s the one he confessed to. He wasn't going to go and steal Keith's from Shiro, he isn't is man anymore.
But he’s not going to hide them anymore.
He doesn’t think Keith actually likes him more than Shiro, but he won’t let is occasion going away, if Shiro serves it on a golden plate.
“If you don’t want him, I will take him.”
Posts written by Akemichan |
