Chapter Text
“Oh my god, you eat like a fucking pig!” Valencina announced from across the table. Ren immediately straightened up, knowing full well her words were aimed at him. He knew he’d been slouching, but what else? He glanced down; his napkin still on the table instead of in his lap, and he’d just downed the glass of water instead of sipping, hadn’t he? Shit. He really needed to be more attentive to his table manners if he didn't want to get chewed out by Valencina every meal.
“Lay off, Valencina,” Matthias said, talking with his mouth full. “It’s not that big of a deal…”
“Having to show Textbook how to not eat like a slob was bad enough — if all the little brats are gonna be like this, they should just go eat somewhere else and save the rest of our sanities! God knows the rest of you aren’t gonna be teaching them how to conduct themselves properly!”
Ren quietly set his fork down, staring at the half-eaten meal before him. He really had been trying to keep the proper etiquette in mind since Valencina had first chewed him out over it on his first day here, but breaking years of bad habits didn’t happen overnight.
“I don’t understand why you let yourself get so worked up over it,” Matthias said, which didn’t help Valencina’s temper in the slightest. She sneered at him, looking as though she’d quite enjoy putting her fork through his eye.
“Maybe it’s because I’m sick of being the only competent parent in this fucking shithole,” she said, bringing her fist down on the table and making everyone’s dishes rattle. “None of you did a damn thing for Yoshihide, and you think you can handle five more little brats?! I was the only one that actually put in the work to shape her into a functioning adult — I don’t even want to imagine what she’d have turned into without me here, but I guess we’ll find out when you lot start dragging in more pathetic kids like him!” Valencina gestured to Ren.
“Are you seriously saying none of us did anything for Yoshihide?” Matthias asked aggressively. “Last I checked, you wasted all your time with her getting drunk and screaming!”
“Oh, my bad,” Valencina snapped. “I forgot that a good parent ought to neglect their child and pretend money makes up for it! At least I fucking paid attention to her actual needs! I taught her to fight! I prepared her for the real world!”
“I beg to differ,” Callisto interjected. “Many times, poor Yoshihide came to me covered—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Valencina hit the table again, and Ren watched Lucio pick up his water glass and take a preventative sip to keep it from spilling any more. “I’m not gonna hear it from the freakshow that decided to show her how to rip out organs at the ripe old age of four and turned her into an inconsolable mess for days!”
Ren grimaced; the fact that he already spent his nights wondering if he’d screwed up by coming here certainly wasn’t going to be helped by whatever grievances were being aired right now. This place wasn’t sounding very much like a good home thus far, especially if Matthias and Callisto were planning on having their own apprentices in the near future.
“Valencina, please. There’s no need for…” Rien started, but nobody was listening to him.
“Seriously, if you idiots think you’re gonna find good apprentices or whatever to get Ticket’s memories back, you need to do some actual vetting. I bet Rien brought this kid back because his stupid pager beeped when he walked by! No questions asked, just grabbed him off the street before the Sweepers could! How do we know he isn’t gonna bolt? How do we know he isn’t going to fuck this up for all of us the moment he gets a better opportunity, huh? We only have so long to train them!”
Ren was just watching his plate at this point, appetite gone. He glanced at Araya once or twice, but much like Lucio, she just kept eating as though she couldn’t hear the other Nursefathers.
“Ren is a promising young man,” Rien said. “I believe he’ll surpass expectations, given a bit of time.”
“Right, right. And you’d know that because you vetted him so thoroughly, huh?” Valencina asked.
“I explained the role to him, and asked if he’d like to take it — I didn’t pick him up off the side of the road like you’re implying.”
“Didn’t you do that exact thing with him?” Matthias jerked his thumb towards Lucio. “‘Cause if I remember correctly, he was on the brink of death when you all but carried him in here…”
“Because I have an eye for potential,” Valencina snapped. “I fought in the fucking Smoke War. I can tell who’s going to die and who’s going to thrive! Textbook wasn’t in the best shape when I found him, no, but he had the heart a survivor needs!”
“Uh-huh…” Matthias rolled his eyes, going back to his meal. Rien, however, stepped up to the plate to defend Ren further.
“The apprentices are meant to mesh well with their masters so they can get a good grasp on their skills,” he said. “Ren will do well serving the Dihui Star.”
“Yeah, alright. Assuming he doesn’t decide to kill her for the title and run before Ticket ever shows her face here again!”
Ren wanted to speak up, to defend himself, but he still honestly wasn’t sure he could; wasn’t it a crime worthy of having his tongue removed if he spoke against Valencina? He happened to meet Rien’s eyes, and perhaps he could tell what was running through Ren’s mind, because he gave a barely visible shake of his head. Ren held his tongue and instead looked to Araya again, but she didn’t look as though the thought of defending him had even crossed her mind once during all of this.
“I think you’re just mad we’re all gonna have our own apprentices,” Matthias said. “What, are you jealous that Yoru got a better apprentice than you?”
“Tch. As if that little brat is better than my Textbook. Look at him!” Valencina gestured at him, and Ren returned to staring at his plate. “No manners, no backbone, no telling whether or not he’s gonna stab Yoru in the back! As if he could live up to Ticket.”
“Lay off, Valencina,” Matthias told her. “He’s just a kid, you know… and he’s sitting right there. You could be a little nicer.”
“And that’s why this stupid plan is destined to fail! The four of you are gonna raise a bunch of whiny little snowflakes, and Ticket is gonna mop the floor with them before they can remind her of a damn thing!”
Araya must’ve finished her meal, because she set her utensils down and pushed her plate away before getting to her feet. Ren almost expected her to say something to Valencina about the abuses she’d been hurling at Ren for the past five minutes, but instead, she simply left the room. Ren felt more hurt by that than by Valencina’s words; did she think Ren was untrustworthy, too?
“What’s her fucking problem, by the way? She’s been acting so — weird. Is she sad Ticket’s gone, or what?” Valencina laughed at her own question.
“I think we all ought to retire for the night,” Rien announced firmly. “No more fighting, please.”
Valencina was obviously irritated by this, shoving her plate away like Araya had. She got up from the table and headed for the door, only pausing to look over her shoulder at the table. “Textbook,” she said, “we’re going.”
Lucio had finished eating a minute or so prior, and wasted no time standing up and pushing his chair in. He and Valencina left the dining room, and Ren let out an inaudible sigh.
“Disregard her harsh words,” Rien told him as Matthias and Callisto both began getting up from their seats to leave. “Please, finish your meal.”
“It’s alright. I’ve eaten my fill.” His appetite hadn’t returned yet, and while he was sure he’d be hungry long before dinner, he really couldn’t stomach the thought of forcing down another bite. He got to his feet and pushed his chair in, bowing to the Nursefathers before gathering the dirty dishes and making his first trip to the kitchen.
He was honestly grateful that he had a moment to himself before needing to return to the Pinky Corridor; he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt angry with Araya. Sure, she wasn’t required to speak up for him or anything, but… leaving Matthias and Rien of all people to defend him left a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe she didn’t care for the title of Dihui Star, but did she think he was liable to betray her for it? What if he had to spend the next few years here knowing every single person thought he was a snake, a traitor waiting for the perfect time to strike?
He stewed in his own thoughts the entire time he cleaned up from dinner, barely taking in the walk from the kitchen to the Index Corridor. It wasn’t until Rien called out to him right before he reached the Pinky Corridor that he was freed from himself.
“Ren, may I have a moment of your time?” Rien asked, stopping him in his tracks.
“Of course, sir. What can my humble self do for you?” Ren turned around, looking up at Rien as the man made his way over to him.
“I just wanted to… touch base with you.” He sighed, and then gestured to the nearby chairs. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
Ren did so, and Rien sat across from him.
“I firstly wanted to apologize for the way Valencina spoke about you,” Rien said, his gaze so piercing Ren struggled to meet it. “I hope you didn’t take it to heart; you’ll have to understand that the Nursefathers haven’t had the easiest lives. Especially so for Valencina… she finds it difficult to trust people. I’m certain she’ll warm up to you in her own way after some time has passed.”
“I understand,” Ren replied. It did make sense, given that she’d said she participated in the Smoke War. It didn’t ease the idle resentment brewing in his chest over the way Araya had ignored the abuse, but all the same, it helped to know for certain Valencina wasn’t just out to get him.
“Of course, you might find that the other Nursefathers have their own… ah… quirks in your time here; don’t take anything they might say to heart.”
Ren nodded, although he wasn’t quite sure what that warning entailed; were Callisto and Matthias going to start making jabs at him, too? The thought of such a thing disappointed him — three years to earn the title of Dihui Star had sounded like so short of a time, but with each new development in this place, it just sounded more and more unbearable. He hadn’t factored every single person here hating his guts into his calculations on whether or not he could withstand a few years here.
“And one other thing…” Rien said, getting Ren to look up at him once again. “Has Araya spoken to you regarding how you ought to refer to her?”
“She has,” Ren replied. “She said to not discuss her… condition with the others, and that she… had to play the part of the original Dihui Star.” The words felt wrong on his tongue; he hoped his distaste for them didn’t show on his face.
“Indeed. It is of utmost importance that the others remain blissfully unaware of Shiomi Yoru’s fate; if they were to learn that she’s been replaced, well… her safety and the plan would be jeopardized.”
Ren had so many questions, so many explanations he wanted to demand from Rien that he couldn’t even land on one to ask. How in the world could Araya’s safety be jeopardized when Rien seemed to be in charge? Surely the other Nursefathers wouldn’t try to murder her the moment they realized Shiomi Yoru was dead, right? That would be nonsensical, as prone to violence as some of them seemed.
“...Can you enlighten my humble self as to what this ‘plan’ entails?” Ren finally asked.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt; it is integral to your training, after all.” Rien sighed and finally looked away from Ren, collecting himself. “How much has she revealed to you? Perhaps I can start where she’s left off.”
“She said that the apprentices will be trained in the styles of their Nursefathers, and that we have to remind her — her mother? — of her training. And… this is done to reunite my master with her mother, though I’m unsure of the relation between those two things.”
Rien nodded along as he spoke. “I see. Indeed, you must remind my darling Yoshihide of her training.” He reached out and took hold of that strange red string; Ren followed it to the wall, through which it disappeared. “As to why… say, you lived at Mount Liang; did you know the holder of the Tiansha Star title well?”
“Li Kui,” Ren confirmed. “I knew him well, yes. He was one of my many tutors there.”
“Did he ever speak about the weapon tied to his title?”
Ren had to wrack his brain for that question. He was fairly certain he remembered Li Kui grumbling about a weapon at least once or twice — the main time being after Ren asked him if the two axes were the weapons of his title, of which they were not.
“Araya…” he finally said aloud when it struck him. “Araya… something.”
“Arayashiki,” Rien supplied, and Ren nodded — that sounded right. How had he not put the two together upon hearing Araya’s name? “But I can see that you’ve made the connection. Arayashiki made its way into the hands of Shiomi Yoru before she joined us here. Its current wielder is none but dear Yoshihide — she possesses the aptitude for it. With Shiomi Yoru gone, she is the only one capable of unlocking its fullest potential.”
“Is it not but a mere sword?” Ren asked. “What potential does it have?”
Rien smiled at this question. “That, unfortunately, is not information for your ears.”
A flash of irritation sparked through him. “I expected you to say that Araya is the one meant to wield Arayashiki,” he said, not bothering to press Rien for answers. He didn’t seem like the sort of person one could tease answers out of without enough pressure.
“My granddaughter…” Rien sighed heavily. “The circumstance of her origin was meant to produce a child capable of using the blade, but fate carved a new path forward. Her condition is proof of her inability to control Arayashiki. You see, Yoshihide thought to keep your Nursefather in a time safe until she returned to us; she had no trouble staying in the safe due to her perfect perception of time. Araya, however, lacked that skill — the time entanglement she experienced was not something Yoshihide ever considered as a complication. Truthfully, if Araya had remained in the safe, we never would have found her.”
Ren nodded slowly, feeling sick to his stomach. Poor Yoshihide — what guilt would she feel upon her return, to see her daughter in such a state? Would Araya forgive her for it? Did she know it wasn’t purposeful?
“Oh, and Ren?” Rien leaned forward, catching his attention with the movement; there was no reason for it, not when Ren could see and hear him just fine. Even without a weapon in his hand, it felt as though Rien was brandishing one. “You won’t breathe a word of this conversation to anyone.”
“Why not?” Ren asked, working hard to keep from visibly tensing up. It was clear that Rien was attempting to intimidate him, and it was certainly working. “Does Araya not know all of this already?”
“She doesn’t. If you tell her, it will jeopardize the plan.”
“...So she truly believes Yoshihide abandoned her?” Ren asked, thinking back to Araya’s initial outburst that introduced him to her condition; she had used the word abandoned, hadn’t she? Did she even know about her own so-called inability to wield her namesake?
“And that is what she will continue to think,” Rien said. “If you make any of this known to her, it will result in her death come Yoshihide’s return — as well as your own.” He got to his feet, never looking away from Ren. “...I’m certain you wouldn’t want that blood on your hands.”
He had half a mind to tell Rien to go fuck himself, but he knew better than that. He wouldn’t be surprised if Rien had the entire place bugged somehow, that he’d know if Ren even hinted at any of this. That pager had told him he was eavesdropping or something when Rien came to visit at Mount Liang; it would likely do the same if he disobeyed here, right? The thought made his heart sink. He hated to think such a thing, but he was going to have to play along one more time, from the sound of things. Hadn’t he come here to escape that? How cruel was the world, to send him from one hell to the next? He’d served his time. Araya didn’t deserve this — and neither did he.
“I understand, sir. This will stay between us.” His own voice sounded hollow to him.
“Good. You’re free to go.”
Ren wasted no time getting up and heading for the door to the Pinky Corridor, relieved that Rien didn’t stop him a second time. His head was spinning — what had he done in a past life to deserve this? Why had he suffered through twelve long years in Zigong’s web, only to find himself in another, this time with someone else to worry about? Worst of all, what in the world was he supposed to do about it? He didn’t dare to defy Rien the way he’d always wanted someone else to do for him at Mount Liang, but it felt so terribly cruel to keep her in the dark. Would she be satisfied with baseless promises that things would be okay one day? Would he have been okay with such a thing as a child? He couldn’t even fathom it.