Hello. My name is Kiryu. I’m one of the new wardens here.
I thought I’d let you know I dropped your inmate off back in his room. He mentioned he might like to use your bath. He might also need a salve and some bandages, whatever he says.
If you wish to speak to me on the matter, I’d prefer it be in person. I can come to you or you’re welcome to come to my cabin. I’m in 412.
[ The door will open to what, seemingly, is an outside space, a backyard. On either side just inside of the door is what looks to be a wall around that space, a pair of bronze fu dogs guarding the doorway. If Lark is very observant, he will see the sign to Morning Glory Orphanage carved in wood, attached to one side, along with a little flower painted on it. The backyard itself is sparsely littered with the marks of childhood: a soccer target, a dog house, a see saw and swing, a table with nine stump chairs and liberally dotted with palm trees near the edges. Beyond is what looks like a porch attached to a humble Japanese-style home.
The man standing in the doorway isn’t overly tall, though solidly built. He’s wearing his usual red shirt, open at the neck, collar popped, tucked neatly into grey trousers and his standard white snakeskin shoes. He doesn’t look like he’s been in a brawl, doesn’t appear to have taken any damage, but there’s no mistaking the traces of Pagan’s blood and sweat on him, or his own sweat. He wouldn’t deny them either. Also? Scotch and cigarettes.
He bows his head in greeting and steps back in invitation, though his hand stays on the door to make it clear he’s also willing to follow Lark, if that’s how he’d prefer to do things.]
Good to meet you. [Lark is dressed more casually in a dark button-down shirt untucked and jeans, but everything on him is clearly expensive, down to the shoes.
He smiles at Kiryu but every sense is taking in the extremely unique setting. Some people who come on board have kids, or love kids, but none of them keep reminders.]
We can talk here. Less chance of interruption. And thanks, for dropping Pagan off. And letting me know.
[ It’s nothing he requested. And he’s not the sort to complain about his accommodations. If it had been up to him, he would have been happy with a single one person apartment. The door to the children’s room has been locked since he got here.
He’ll nod and move around him to close the door behind him before leading him in. He’ll stop at the porch, where he tends to sit more often than not. Then can go inside, but he figures this works just fine.
Another nod. Acknowledgement.]
Of course. He mentioned you’d want to talk to me. And I can understand why.
[ He won’t presume much of anything else, though. ]
[ He’ll hear a soft, muttered ’nani?’ before he clears he shakes it off and looks to Lark. ]
I’m not sure I understand what you want to know.
[ Entirely genuine confusion here. He’s not sure of the objective of this talk or how Lark feels about what happened. Pagan had intimated to him that his warden would be someone who understood what they’d done, why they’d done it, how these things worked. ]
[A soft, fond huff] Pagan goes one of two ways: his fights are very serious, or they're very not. I'm just wondering how this one happened, and how you feel about it.
He was in a very serious fight not too long ago, so if this is a clue about how well or poorly his mental state is doing...well, he won't be able to tell me so I have to look from a different perspective.
[ Ah. That, he understands. He nods to ensure Lark knows he gets it, and then he’ll speak. ]
Our fight was serious. [ The idea of not taking a fight seriously is as close to blasphemy as Kiryu would believe in. ] But the aim of the fight wasn’t to hurt one another. It was to learn one another.
It’s a language we share. A language we grew up with. He needed to know who I was.
There was no other way to give him that answer. And vice versa.
[ Good thing for Kiryu, being a dragon and all. Maybe. Possibly? Sort of. Canon is unclear here.
But when he identifies himself as a wolf, that... rings a few bells. One of the people he loves most is a man who’d been called the ‘mad dog’ for years. It has him curious, listening even more carefully than he usually does. ‘Humans’ hmm. All right. Well, learn something new every day. A wolf in human skin.
He can’t say he’s surprised Pagan’s warden is such a creature. ]
If it was so simple to put into words, Pagan-san wouldn’t need to use your bathtub.
[ A little drier than his usual but not at all unfriendly. He continues. ]
What he shared with me was between us. Suffice to say we understand one another now.
[ He can share what he thinks Lark would already know, though. ]
He’s stronger than most. Brave. But he has unhealed wounds.
[The fact Kiryu doesn't share things, even with Pagan's warden, earns him a few more points in his favor.]
He's making progress a lot faster than I think he realizes. I worry about his familiar coping skills tripping him up--which is why I'm here. But I think this encounter could be healthy for him...using a language he already knows and rarely gets to use around here. And using it without goading you into trying to kill him.
[He feels better about it now than he had when Kiryu contacted him, at least.]
Tell me a bit about you, if you can? How did you end up on the Barge?
[ He understands the concern a little more now, and he feels comfortable enough with the way Lark is framing this to admit one thing.]
He specifically warned me against killing him before we started. Though it was never part of our intentions.
[ He doesn’t know how to make that any more clear, and he doesn’t think Lark believes he ever intended it, so he’s content to leave the point there. To his question, he nods. ]
Certainly, Lark-san. I’m assuming you mean more than just ‘I was asked by the Admiral’?
[ He doesn’t wait for the answer. ]
I can’t be in my world anymore. Before I was asked, I was merely going to do my best to disappear, to hide. Let people believe I was dead.
[Pagan is self-destructive and Lark hasn't figured out quite yet how far that extends. Mostly Pagan lashes out when it strikes him, but he wouldn't be surprised for it to go deeper. He's just glad to hear it hasn't.
But Kiryu's answer pushes Pagan to the back of his mind and he favors the man with a raised eyebrow.]
[ Kiryu looks at the other man. Wolf. Individual. And he tries to think of the most succinct way that he can put this. This isn’t a heart to heart where he’s trying to necessarily connect to someone, it’s a report. In the interest of being brief, which he prefers most of the time- ]
An investigation into a hit and run that nearly killed the girl I raised, and her son, resulted in a major embarrassment for the Japanese government.
And it is... not the first time.
[ A bow of his head. ]
I am... someone who causes conflict. Always. [ And he doesn’t hide how much this kills him, how many people it feels like have paid for the fact that he even so much as exists. Watching Daigo across the divide being shot, Saejima’s hands holding him back, keeping him from trying to leap across just to get to his son. The man he’d call son. The head of one of Japan’s leading criminal organizations that he still, in so many ways, sees as a little shit in short pants, the young master. It’s just as vivid to him as watching Haruka hold Haruto, curl up around him to try and protect him from the gunfire before he stepped in front of her... and Yuta.
Whether he can be there to step in front of the bullets or not, there are always bullets when he’s there. There’s always death and loss and violence.
His daughter and her family deserve better. His family deserves better.]
It’s painted a target on the back of that girl, and the children in the orphanage I was running. Her own child. The man she loves.
The best thing I can do for them is disappear. So I did.
People who cause conflict are the people who reshape worlds.
[He doesn't know enough of Kiryu to even guess what shapes he could make, but he's determined to find out over time.]
I understand having to let them go...I can't imagine how difficult that must be. I hope you being here is a sign that you haven't given up on creating changes, though.
[ He's not shy about that, or proud. It just is; while Akiyama might call him the Hero of Kamurocho, what the little city-within-a-city needs, he's never been sure. He changes things, stops some things, brings about others. Whether he's had a net positive influence? It feels like it at the time, but he's hesitant to come to any conclusions. ]
As for what's to come, I don't know. I hope to take some time to figure out who I am without them there. Who I might be here.
This place is different from anywhere else I've ever been.
Nor me. We have intergalactic travelers who are still surprised by this place.
[But finding identity is something Lark has always been deeply interested in, and he tilts his head slightly, a gesture that's almost more canine than human]
How much do you feel you know about yourself right now?
Again, Lark-san. I'm not sure I understand your question.
[ He's not trying to obstruct anything or be difficult; the question struck him as an odd thing to ask a man of his age is all. How much does he feels he knows about himself? Everything, obviously. How he intends to fit into this place, into his home world, into any world... that's the question he's working on.]
I know who I am. How that will fit here, I'm still exploring.
[A nod; knowing oneself is a surprisingly rare trait here.]
I ask because the Barge's only purpose is to change people. Well, to give them the chance for it, anyway. It applies to wardens just as much as it does to inmates. Sometimes, it takes away things you don't hold onto.
[ He considers that, and his eyes go to the yard around them, his head tilts to take in part of the house. He looks to Lark and he wonders if the man knows enough to answer him. He figures it's worth a shot. ]
Someone seemed surprised to see a space like this in a cabin. Is it unusual, then?
My cabin has a view of the ocean, but we've never tried to get to it. And other people with children, they don't keep reminders of them. If there were any when they first arrived, they requested them gone. Yours is very...immersive.
[ There are quite a lot of reminders, aren't there? To be fair, there were quite a lot of children, their faces burned into his mind, the feel of their arms around him... his last day at the orphanage his first in three years. Then he'd gone to find out where Haruka was and everything had happened. He'd promised he'd be back, that they'd be a family again.
They were. Just... without him.
He can think of a few reasons why a place dedicated to change would present him with a cabin like this. All of them lead him to one conclusion. ]
If this place has bent to provide me a chance to change, even if I don't understand it yet, I would prefer to leave it as it was given to me.
[ There's something that flickers through his eyes, an almost knee jerk emotional reaction to being told that he's a good influence, that he makes things better. Akiyama had said the same thing in as many words, and he's always denied the very idea. But this man is only trying to be encouraging to a new arrival, a new coworker. There's no need to play out a defense. Instead, he dips his head and accepts the compliment. ]
Thank you, Lark-san. I hope to be a warden that inmates know they can trust to help them.
[after the fight with Pagan, like, five minutes after]
I thought I’d let you know I dropped your inmate off back in his room. He mentioned he might like to use your bath. He might also need a salve and some bandages, whatever he says.
If you wish to speak to me on the matter, I’d prefer it be in person. I can come to you or you’re welcome to come to my cabin. I’m in 412.
Until then.
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I'm on my way.
[Since he was in cabin 409 it's only a minute before he knocks on the door.]
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The man standing in the doorway isn’t overly tall, though solidly built. He’s wearing his usual red shirt, open at the neck, collar popped, tucked neatly into grey trousers and his standard white snakeskin shoes. He doesn’t look like he’s been in a brawl, doesn’t appear to have taken any damage, but there’s no mistaking the traces of Pagan’s blood and sweat on him, or his own sweat. He wouldn’t deny them either. Also? Scotch and cigarettes.
He bows his head in greeting and steps back in invitation, though his hand stays on the door to make it clear he’s also willing to follow Lark, if that’s how he’d prefer to do things.]
Lark-san.
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He smiles at Kiryu but every sense is taking in the extremely unique setting. Some people who come on board have kids, or love kids, but none of them keep reminders.]
We can talk here. Less chance of interruption. And thanks, for dropping Pagan off. And letting me know.
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He’ll nod and move around him to close the door behind him before leading him in. He’ll stop at the porch, where he tends to sit more often than not. Then can go inside, but he figures this works just fine.
Another nod. Acknowledgement.]
Of course. He mentioned you’d want to talk to me. And I can understand why.
[ He won’t presume much of anything else, though. ]
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He told me when he met you. But why don't you start from the beginning from your perspective?
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I’m not sure I understand what you want to know.
[ Entirely genuine confusion here. He’s not sure of the objective of this talk or how Lark feels about what happened. Pagan had intimated to him that his warden would be someone who understood what they’d done, why they’d done it, how these things worked. ]
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He was in a very serious fight not too long ago, so if this is a clue about how well or poorly his mental state is doing...well, he won't be able to tell me so I have to look from a different perspective.
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Our fight was serious. [ The idea of not taking a fight seriously is as close to blasphemy as Kiryu would believe in. ] But the aim of the fight wasn’t to hurt one another. It was to learn one another.
It’s a language we share. A language we grew up with. He needed to know who I was.
There was no other way to give him that answer. And vice versa.
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I like that.
I'm a wolf...it's part of our language, too. I've always felt that humans are too slow to use it to figure each other out.
[And he's pretty sure Pagan was right: this guy is Yakuza or something very much like it.]
So what did you learn about Pagan?
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But when he identifies himself as a wolf, that... rings a few bells. One of the people he loves most is a man who’d been called the ‘mad dog’ for years. It has him curious, listening even more carefully than he usually does. ‘Humans’ hmm. All right. Well, learn something new every day. A wolf in human skin.
He can’t say he’s surprised Pagan’s warden is such a creature. ]
If it was so simple to put into words, Pagan-san wouldn’t need to use your bathtub.
[ A little drier than his usual but not at all unfriendly. He continues. ]
What he shared with me was between us. Suffice to say we understand one another now.
[ He can share what he thinks Lark would already know, though. ]
He’s stronger than most. Brave. But he has unhealed wounds.
no subject
He's making progress a lot faster than I think he realizes. I worry about his familiar coping skills tripping him up--which is why I'm here. But I think this encounter could be healthy for him...using a language he already knows and rarely gets to use around here. And using it without goading you into trying to kill him.
[He feels better about it now than he had when Kiryu contacted him, at least.]
Tell me a bit about you, if you can? How did you end up on the Barge?
no subject
He specifically warned me against killing him before we started. Though it was never part of our intentions.
[ He doesn’t know how to make that any more clear, and he doesn’t think Lark believes he ever intended it, so he’s content to leave the point there. To his question, he nods. ]
Certainly, Lark-san. I’m assuming you mean more than just ‘I was asked by the Admiral’?
[ He doesn’t wait for the answer. ]
I can’t be in my world anymore. Before I was asked, I was merely going to do my best to disappear, to hide. Let people believe I was dead.
This is a more elegant solution.
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But Kiryu's answer pushes Pagan to the back of his mind and he favors the man with a raised eyebrow.]
What led to you needing to fake your own death?
no subject
An investigation into a hit and run that nearly killed the girl I raised, and her son, resulted in a major embarrassment for the Japanese government.
And it is... not the first time.
[ A bow of his head. ]
I am... someone who causes conflict. Always. [ And he doesn’t hide how much this kills him, how many people it feels like have paid for the fact that he even so much as exists. Watching Daigo across the divide being shot, Saejima’s hands holding him back, keeping him from trying to leap across just to get to his son. The man he’d call son. The head of one of Japan’s leading criminal organizations that he still, in so many ways, sees as a little shit in short pants, the young master. It’s just as vivid to him as watching Haruka hold Haruto, curl up around him to try and protect him from the gunfire before he stepped in front of her... and Yuta.
Whether he can be there to step in front of the bullets or not, there are always bullets when he’s there. There’s always death and loss and violence.
His daughter and her family deserve better. His family deserves better.]
It’s painted a target on the back of that girl, and the children in the orphanage I was running. Her own child. The man she loves.
The best thing I can do for them is disappear. So I did.
no subject
[He doesn't know enough of Kiryu to even guess what shapes he could make, but he's determined to find out over time.]
I understand having to let them go...I can't imagine how difficult that must be. I hope you being here is a sign that you haven't given up on creating changes, though.
no subject
[ He's not shy about that, or proud. It just is; while Akiyama might call him the Hero of Kamurocho, what the little city-within-a-city needs, he's never been sure. He changes things, stops some things, brings about others. Whether he's had a net positive influence? It feels like it at the time, but he's hesitant to come to any conclusions. ]
As for what's to come, I don't know. I hope to take some time to figure out who I am without them there. Who I might be here.
This place is different from anywhere else I've ever been.
no subject
[But finding identity is something Lark has always been deeply interested in, and he tilts his head slightly, a gesture that's almost more canine than human]
How much do you feel you know about yourself right now?
no subject
[ He's not trying to obstruct anything or be difficult; the question struck him as an odd thing to ask a man of his age is all. How much does he feels he knows about himself? Everything, obviously. How he intends to fit into this place, into his home world, into any world... that's the question he's working on.]
I know who I am. How that will fit here, I'm still exploring.
no subject
I ask because the Barge's only purpose is to change people. Well, to give them the chance for it, anyway. It applies to wardens just as much as it does to inmates. Sometimes, it takes away things you don't hold onto.
no subject
Someone seemed surprised to see a space like this in a cabin. Is it unusual, then?
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[He likes it, clearly.]
My cabin has a view of the ocean, but we've never tried to get to it. And other people with children, they don't keep reminders of them. If there were any when they first arrived, they requested them gone. Yours is very...immersive.
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They were. Just... without him.
He can think of a few reasons why a place dedicated to change would present him with a cabin like this. All of them lead him to one conclusion. ]
If this place has bent to provide me a chance to change, even if I don't understand it yet, I would prefer to leave it as it was given to me.
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He thinks about his ultimate goal here: to help reshape the way things go, the divide between groups.]
I think you'll do a lot of good around here.
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Thank you, Lark-san. I hope to be a warden that inmates know they can trust to help them.