The Silence After the Storm

[vrdr_mods]

The Ken Amada who made certain threats, whom Igor didn't bring to the Velvet Room and didn't welcome, has been permanently contained within his other-world self. Many of the Velvet Room residents mobilized in the effort to neutralize the threat he posed, and now, in the moments after the devastating battle that sealed Ken away, perhaps you have business to conclude.

Maybe you're a fighter, left in the rubble the battle made of its surroundings—or maybe you were a noncombatant this time, left behind to wonder what's happening or prepare for the aftermath. Maybe you linger around the battle site, or maybe you have other things to do.

Or maybe you didn't survive. Maybe you're one of the glowing forms slowly coalescing in front of Igor's desk in the Velvet Room over the course of the subsequent half hour. Igor presides over them gravely, with no sign of his usual smile. Near his desk sits a box of snacks, familiar to anyone who's used the operation's training room.

[[ooc: This post is a general catch-all for the aftermath of the battle! It's backdated to February 26, the day Ken got got.]]

Comments

[unit_8910_wolf]

"God, tell me about it."

He instantly hooked onto the question he could answer best. "Anymore of this and I might actually become immune to my own microbots- aging several decades in a matter of few seconds."

[willowandoak]

"...Wait, really?" He squints at Hasegawa, trying to figure out if he's joking.

[unit_8910_wolf]

For a moment Zenkichi didn't even catch the question for a few seconds before he stalled and...properly heard it.

"...hm? Oh," he backed up and blinked behind his now sort of broken mask. "Oh no no, that shouldn't be happening to be honest those microbots came from far more distressed comatose people than me so-"

He stops, raising a hand. "Atleast from my knowledge...Akane would probably know better." He finds himself running his fingers through her now scattered open hair.

He raised a brow at him. Was he concerned for said ex-cop here?

[willowandoak]

Ren is confessing to nothing. Sensing unsteady ground, he tries to find a different topic, but his words dry up when he looks down at Akane.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "That it happened."

1/2

[unit_8910_wolf]

Zenkichi's gaze drifts, lost somewhere beyond the dim glow of Akane’s regenerating form. The silence stretches, heavy but not unwelcome. Just... there. A weight pressing against his chest, the same way his arms press Akane closer, like if he lets go, even for a second, she might slip away again.

And then Ren speaks.

Simple words. Honest.

Zenkichi exhales sharply, almost like a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His shoulders sag. For a moment, he just... stares down at Akane’s face, the flickering red LED by her temple, the faint glow of her systems knitting her back together. It should be reassuring. It should be proof that she’s coming back.

But it still feels like he’s trapped in a nightmare he can’t wake up from.

He swallows, dragging a hand down his face.

"...I don’t think I can even blame Fatalis for this." His voice is low, rough around the edges. His grip tightens where his fingers press against Akane’s sleeve. "He wasn’t aiming for her." That should make it better, shouldn’t it? But it doesn’t. Not when the result was the same. Not when it was the result of one kid killing another.

His free hand clenches into a fist before he forces himself to release it. He thumps his chest once, right over the port nestled near his heart. He needed to get this out. "It wouldn’t have mattered if I died or got destroyed. Akane would have been safe. I had her here—" His voice hitches, but he pushes through it. "In my server. She wasn’t supposed to—"

He bites back the words, jaw tightening. He can’t say it. Won’t. Because saying it out loud means admitting that, for one awful moment, it had felt exactly like before.

And he can’t let Ren know that.

Instead, he exhales shakily, blinking against the sting at the corner of his eyes as he tries—fails—to push down the rising fear in his throat.

2/2

[unit_8910_wolf]

Zenkichi exhales slowly, trying to pull himself together, but the grief is a stubborn thing—it sinks its claws into his chest, weighing him down. Still, he forces himself to shift, to look at Drake, really look at him, instead of drowning in his own thoughts.

"You and the others," he starts, voice still rough, but steadying. "How bad was it?"

His fingers curl slightly against Akane’s sleeve, but he doesn’t let himself linger on her anymore. Not right now. She’s coming back. He has to believe that. Instead, he glances around, searching for the others—those still reviving, still recovering, just like Akane. Just like him.

He wants to focus on them. On what’s in front of him, instead of the ghosts of what he’s already lost. But it’s hard. God, it’s hard.

[willowandoak]

He has some thoughts about what Hasegawa was saying, but he follows the subject change. He can take a hint.

"Three casualties, including..." He nods at Akane. "There was also Hamuko and vampire Ren. And a lot of injuries, but they all healed up. People are just tired, I think. We're all gonna sleep for a week. You should, too, after this."

[unit_8910_wolf]

Three casualties, three young people who had to spear through death. Some more than once. Or perhaps even twice. These kids...damn it. To think they would all have this much courage. Perhaps that was the beauty of being a wildcard in a way.

He doesn't think he will get any sleep though, not with Akane's death still fresh in his mind.

"So is this how it always goes with all of you? You fight a supernatural god-like being then just...doze off. Drifting into the sunset?"

[willowandoak]

"I dunno. This is my first time. Good practice for when we go home, I guess." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Honestly, I'm not good for much right now besides sleeping. Keeping people company, I guess. My brain's completely checked out."

[unit_8910_wolf]

Zenkichi huffs out a breath—half a tired chuckle, half an exhale that still carries the weight of everything that’s happened. He rubs a hand over his face before finally looking at Ren again, this time with something softer in his expression.

"Wouldn't blame you if you lost your damn mind after all this," he says, voice wry but warm. "Hell, I think I did for a second there. You deserve the rest, kid. And to celebrate, too. You did your best trying to lead everyone through that mess."

He lets out another breath, this one a little lighter, as if saying it out loud helps him believe it, too. His hand instinctively drifts to Akane’s arm, grounding himself in the rising and falling rhythm of her breath.

"And I know Akane appreciates it." His fingers curl slightly, just for a second. "Not just you keeping things together, but... still being here. Still talking to an old man like me, even after I nearly blew up your entire team formation." He doesn't even remember who he shoved at.

He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching upward—an attempt at a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Not a lot of people would bother," he adds, quieter this time.

[willowandoak]

Yeah, he has some opinions about Hasegawa's behavior at the end of the battle, and he lets it show with a dark, meaningful look. But all he says is, "I wasn't gonna bring it up yet."

He'll be fine with them not talking about it for now. There's kind of a bigger issue at hand—literally, as she rests in Hasegawa's arms.

[unit_8910_wolf]

His gaze drifts, not sure if prioritizing the work over the bigger issue at hand regarding his feelings for his dead daughter was the right matter here. She was alive, wasn't she? Just a few more minutes. Also it's Drake, if he's going to throw a few bitter insilts at him it wouldn't matter.

"You or anyone else here is nowhere at fault for Akane’s condition." His hand drifts- finding air at the side of his daughter's head. "This is my oversight. Just as what had happened on the battlefield. I should have been medicated enough for that to never happen for a whole duration of a day- much less for those minutes."

"...I am really sorry for weighing you guys down."

Even if he had landed back and forth almighty attacks and had only disturbed the team's strategy for a worrying amount. He is only living with physical wounds that aren't hurting because he turned off those sensors. Those microbots are at work right as they speak.

[willowandoak]

Ren doesn't know what he was expecting, but a straight-up apology and admission of guilt was definitely not it. He blinks at Hasegawa for a moment, mouth slightly open, looking completely blank, and free of the jadedness that often makes him look older than his years.

It's just, adults don't say that. Not to Ren. It's not even that he thinks apologies have a lot of value; adults just don't even think he's worth the effort of trying.

"Uh," he says, intelligently. "...As long as you know you fucked up."

[unit_8910_wolf]

Zenkichi waits. Expects.

Drake is the responsible one, the leader who kept this whole impossible operation running even when the world is collapsing around them. So he expects a nod, maybe some grim acknowledgment, maybe—if he’s really lucky—an order to run a diagnostic on his systems. Something to put him back in his place, remind him that he’s a weapon before he’s anything else.

Instead, Ren just... stares at him. Blinks, mouth slightly open, expression completely wiped of its usual jaded sharpness.

Zenkichi squints, caught off guard. His brain struggles to process this response—or lack of one. His body tenses, bracing for something more, but all he gets is:

...As long as you know you fucked up.

Silence.

Zenkichi clicks his tongue, rolling his shoulders. "Wow. Thanks, kid. Real profound." He gestures vaguely at Ren, like he’s just grown a second head. "What, you short-circuitin’ on me? You alright?"

He’s teasing, but there’s an edge of genuine confusion under it. Maybe even... warmth.

That shit hurts more than any almighty blast ever could.

[willowandoak]

What kind of question...? "I can yell at you if you want."

He doesn't want to right now, but he can. It wouldn't even be that hard. He can always make himself mad enough to yell.

[unit_8910_wolf]

Zenkichi lets out a slow exhale, shaking his head. "Uh. Appreciate the offer but I think I'll pass on it for now." His lips twitch, not quite a smirk, but something almost like it. "Not really in the mood to give you more reasons to get grey hairs."

He shifts his weight, glancing away as he scratches at his goatee, trying to shake the weirdness of this whole conversation. He’s been called out before—hell, he’s been chewed out plenty—but this? A simple, Yeah, you fucked up? It’s disarming in a way he wasn’t prepared for.