ukan | IC CONTACT

Pagan gives him a knowing look. "I don't think he would. He's had his share of traumas. He simply has decided to do something different with them."

He sits back. "And you know I've shut down any and all fear responses years ago. So there are still no exceptions, but - I think your read on him is wrong. Which is new for you."

He shakes his head. "I worded it poorly. It isn't just a lack of trauma that makes them hate us. It's only people who can't find a way to choose the wise thing with their trauma become what I am. People who are destroyed by it and never find the strength to recover. Kiryu is..." Too good? No, that implies something innate. "Too strong already as what, who, he is. Some port that's enough like home, I'll show you what I mean."

"A port like your home is not one I'd want to see," he points out.

But he will leave the point for now.

"So what's the benefit of that honesty with us here? Obviously, honesty with me means I trust you and I graduate faster. But the rest?"

"Honesty with you isn't really about you graduating faster." He's given his deal to Pagan, after all, there's no benefit to Lark. "I like knowing that you and I are a team. You're not my subordinate. I trust your perspective. I wouldn't get any of that if I lied to you."

The rest? It's harder to say. "I don't enjoy lying. I try not to, to be honest. If I can get away with it I just let people make their own assumptions and then run with it. And that works pretty well here, it's just... people have room here to give a shit about me, even when they'd be wiser not to. I don't want to take that for granted." A beat. "Anymore."

"Almost," he starts out with a grin. "As if you were an inmate and have since graduated because you learned something better."

He sits back thoughtfully. "For what it's worth, Lark. I have never felt your subordinate. Oh, perhaps at first, when you and I didn't know each other, when we were still talking. But now? No. There's no one else I'd want by my side."

It's extremely hard to ping the part of Lark that cares what people think. It's even harder to make him feel- whatever it is he's feeling now, a warmth in his chest he can't identify with words.

"You know I'll never be able to be a warden after this. I'd spend too much time judging the next inmate by you." And finding them lacking. He can't even make it sound like he's teasing, because he's not.

He sucks in a breath. "Lark, does that mean after me...you're done?"

It's a question he hadn't expected, at least not from Pagan. "I have so much still to do at home. Why do you ask...?"

"Because you came here, Lark. And you'd be leaving - with fucking nothing." He just stares at him.

"What I needed most, I have. I came here because I wanted to save Alec, and then I did. I came here because I wanted to be sure the rest of his people wouldn't face the same genetic issues he had, but Alec has that covered. Giving a better space for people here and giving you back your family is-" Enough. Lark is never satisfied with enough, but the thought of these things being done is, "Satisfying."

Pagan nods. "Well, you're leaving Alec here. Unless he's planning on abandoning Norton." Because Pagan absolutely plans on graduating before Norton.

Little bitch.

"He won't." Alec thought he would, Lark is pretty sure. But Alec has a very well-hidden streak of loyalty. "And I'll be around until he's done; someone has to keep him out of trouble. What are you going to do as soon as you find out you've graduated?

"Leave," he says easily. "Say my goodbyes and then go. I have no reason to stick around. Besides, if I graduate before some of the people here, they might come for my head. Can you imagine if I graduated before Tess?"

He can picture that, in fact. "There was a mass murder right after I graduated which I doubt was related, but I'll still take credit for."

He sits back, smirking. "I'll never pressure you because Lord knows we both do things on our own time and it wouldn't help anyway, but I want you to graduate before Tess."

He laughs softly. He would love to see the look on her face. But that does remind him of something. He stands up, retrieving a small memory card from a drawer. "Take this and don't listen to it," he tells him.

"It's a recording of the conversation I had with Kazuma's daughter. He hasn't listened to it yet and doesn't want to. I made it private afterwards and I have a copy on my phone but if something happens to me and I disappear or graduate before he's ready to hear it, I want to make sure someone else has a copy."

He hands it over.

He takes it and looks at it a moment before he slips it into one of the inner pockets of his jacket. "If the worst happens, what do you want me to do with it?"

"Give it to Kazuma. Force him to take it, if not listen to it." He sits back down and crosses his legs.

"Okay." He's obviously curious about the conversation but just like he won't lie to Pagan, he won't breach that bit of confidence. "How are things with you two lately?"

He takes a moment to think about it.

"Fine," he finally says. "Actually. I've stopped feeling the need to argue with him every time he tries to say something nice."

"You had a hard time with sincere compliments?" It's surprising, and it's not.

"From him," he tells him. "The specific ones that I hate. About being redeemable. About having potential." The ones that have always been hard for him.

Curious. "You've never really pushed back with me about those?"

"I did at first," he points out. "It took me a while to believe you, you see. Believe that you meant it. And it's easier to believe with you. You're a shithead. Kazuma is - good."

Shithead shouldn't be a compliment, and yet.

"Wouldn't he be a better judge than I am, then?"

It's absolutely a compliment.

"Exactly why it took me so long to start believing him," he points out.

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