Drowning Love 溺れるナイフ | 2016

𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗧   𝗕𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗡'𝗦   𝗡𝗘𝗪   𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥   𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗔   —   mizuse   sachikaze   attended   robert   buchanan’s   new   year’s   gala   on   january   7th   dressed   in   a   vintage   alexandre   vauthier   couture   gown.   this   was   the   young   hero’s   first   attendance   at   a   formal   event   as   a   member   of   team   sentinel.   

mizuse   is   collecting   hors   d’oeruves   on   a   small   plate   with   the   paragon   hero   at   her   side.   with   all   of   this   standing   around,   nerves   churning   her   stomach,   and   the   necessity   to   consume   some   calories   —   she   can’t   resist.   the   choices   are   OVERWHELMING,   fingers   wiggling   in   enticement   as   she   reaches   for   a   bruschetta.   she   brings   it   to   her   brims,   biting   into   it   with   a   CRUNCH   !   as   baz   turns   to   blurt   out   a   vexed   question   directed   towards   her.   brows   raise,   gaze   shifting   from   him   to   the   twins   across   the   extravagant   ballroom   showcasing   their   injected   abilities   as   she   chews.   ❛   i   mean,   they’re   usin’   their   powers   right   in   front   of   us.   the   serum   works,   ❜   mizuse   answers   once   she   swallows   and   pivots   her   attention   back   to   baz,   using   him   and   his   skepticism   to   freely   bounce   hypotheses   off   of.   show   a   not   so   easily   accessible   side   of   the   young   hero.   it   wouldn’t   be   the   first   time   she’d   talk   his   ear   off   or   encourage   him   to   continue   a   rant.   ❛   i   wonder   if   it’s   temporary.   if   they   have   a   weak   constitution   and   weren’t   MADE   to   handle   whatever   injected   power   they   got,   use   over   time   will   have   a   huge   side   effects   on   ‘em,   ❜   a   hum   of   thought   and   then   a   shrug   of   exposed   shoulders.   ❛   we’ll   just   have   to   see.   ❜   sentence   ends   with   another   bite   to   finish   off   the   toasted   italian   bread.   

𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐒      @      𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍'𝐒   𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀      —      𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡

he   wasn't   planning   on   attending,      visibly   nursing   a   glass   of   whiskey   in   one   hand   and   eyes   rolling   at   every   other   boastful   syllable      ...      he'd   much   rather   be   somewhere   with   much   dimmer   lights,      tucked   behind   the   vip   section   of   lux   sipping   on   something   much   stronger.      a   sigh   filters   out   at   the   remembrance   of   his   father's   words      —      duty   is   duty.      you   chose   this,      you   have   to   follow   through.      gaze   turns   to   the   figure   to   his   side,      brow   quirking   in   subtle   inquiry.      “      d'you   actually   buy   that   shit      ?      anyone   can   be   super      ?      ”      the   scoff   that   lifts   from   his   lips   is   evident,      not-so-vague   disbelief   riddled   through   otherwise   undeniable   arrogance.      “      it's   cute,      i'suppose.      it's   like   when   little   kids   wear   labcoats      ...      stethoscopes   'n   all   that,      playin'   doctors      —      pretending   to   be   something   they're   not,      ”

it   is   all   a   facade   —   it’s   what   five   years   of   training   within   the   nsa   and   observing   her   father   veil   emotions   ever   since   she   had   met   him.   mizuse   engrossed   in   conversation   with   an   avid   journalist   wanting   to   pick   apart   a   rookie   after   a   shocking   revelation;   however,   the   speedster   is   ALWAYS   one   step   ahead.   blasé   smile,   an   occasional   sip   of   her   sparking   beverage,   maintaining   eye   -   contact   with   the   reporter   …   not   revealing   a   thing.   mizuse   didn’t   know   how   much   longer   she   could   stand   here   and   deal   with   the   interview,   hues   flickering   for   anything—anyone—more   interesting   she   could   point   them   out   to.   after   all,   she   is   a   newbie   to   all   of   this   …   and   the   fleet   -   foot’s   patience   is   starting   to   wear   thin.   wings   attach   to   her   ankles   subtly   flutter,   concealed   by   the   material   of   her   dress.   next   thing   mizuse   notices   is   her   savior,   suzu,   approach   the   two   of   them   and   the   journalist   makes   a   hasty   retreat.   ❛   me   ?   nervous   ?   psh   —   ❜   mizuse   grins   with   a   dismissive   wave   and   a   shake   of   her   head.   ❛   dad   didn’t   want   to   attend.   you   and   i   both   know   he   doesn’t   like   these   sort   of   things,   ❜   she   answers,   knowing   the   vigilante   can   see   right   through   her   act.   grin   slightly   falters   as   mizuse   steps   closer   to   her,   fiddling   with   silver   jewelry   wrapped   around   digits.   suzu,   adopting   the   role   of   big   sister,   is   the   source   of   information,   motivation   ...   reassurance.   ❛   …   i’m   guessing   you   didn’t   hear   anything   about   this.   ❜

with : @kyllini location : buchanan’s gala, main room date : january 7, 2040

it’s easy to spot the familiar figure caught in a conversation she doesn’t want to be in. with how fast mizuse is, an escape should be as simple as running away—but the politics of playing nice make that a bit more complicated. suzu knows mizuse can take care of herself, but who would she be if she didn’t help out at least a little? 

she cuts in between mizuse and the journalist with a winning smile, leaning in to whisper something that sends them off bolting. the disturbance gone, she turns to mizuse, an ease in her demeanor that comes with being in the presence of the younger woman. “don’t tell me hitsuto actually left you alone to fend off the sharks by yourself,” she teases. “nervous?” not that mizuse looks it—picture perfect and the spitting image of what a hero should be, slipstream is ready to face the crowd. “don’t be. no nsa script could’ve prepared you for this mess.”

lightning   -   fast   reflexes   catch   the   water   bottle   tossed   her   way   as   suzume   speaks   her   usual   wise   and   sisterly   words   (   she   can   read   mizuse   like   a   book   no   matter   how   much   she   has   mastered   to   conceal   true   feelings   ).   it   makes   mizuse   sigh   —   in   both   annoyance   and   exhaustion.   ❛   i   know,   i   know,   ❜   the   younger   responds   as   she   hoists   herself   to   sit   on   a   crate.   ever   since   the   buchanan   incident,   nsa   has   been   focusing   on   more   training   on   their   heroes,   especially   the   ones   they   do   not   put   on   a   pedestal.   non   -   stop   training   is   a   constant   reminder   that   mizuse   wasn’t   fast   enough   …   thinking,   reacting,   saving.   even   if   mizuse   was   responsible   for   rescuing   guests   from   the   shattered   chandelier   and   corralling   novus   citizens   out   of   the   museum   to   escape   the   frenzied   twins,   she   wasn’t   on   time   to   save   everyone.   at   least   with   suzume,   the   pressure   of   being   looked   down   on   isn’t   as   prominent.   being   in   her   presence   is   comforting.   like   home.   

❛   there’s   not   much   i   can   do   right   now,   anyway.   ❜   mizuse   adds   before   taking   a   sip   of   water   with   a   shrug   of   her   shoulders.   pout   clear   on   visage,   she   slowly   kicks   her   legs   back   and   forth,   optics   focused   on   the   ground.

with : @kyllini location : an old warehouse, somewhere in novus date : a few days after the gala

an empty warehouse becomes anything suzu wants it to be, and the environment warps over and over, illusory projectiles fired at mizuse to dodge ( among other unorthodox methods ). it’s a practice exercise tailored just for her, something they haven’t done in a while, between the nsa scooping her up and everything in between. feels like the old days. nostalgia’s not the only reason, though—after that disastrous night, suzu understands wanting to be better, faster, and she figures this will suit the younger better than sitting around doing nothing. 

“don’t beat yourself up too much over it,” she says once they stop for a break, tossing a water bottle to mizuse. “you’ll get too in your head that way. focus on what you can do instead, y’know?”

being   around   her   fellow   heroes   and   trainers   is   a   constant   reminder   of   what   happened   that   night   at   the   museum.   it   has   been   non   -   stop   training   and   crisis   management   around   the   nsa   headquarters   and   mizuse   just   needs   to   take   her   mind   off   of   it.   with   a   fearsome   thunderstorm   outside,   it   isn’t   wise   for   mizuse   to   simply   run   around   the   island   (   her   mother   constantly   found   herself   saying   “   i   don’t   care   how   fast   you   are   —   you   will   still   get   a   cold   !   ”   )   to   get   her   mind   off   of   things.   she   loves   running   in   the   rain.   however,   now   she   is   stuck   in   the   nsa   facilities,   so   the   speedster   decides   to   use   the   nsa   employee   workout   room   instead   of   the   one   that   the   heroes   are   supposed   to   use.   i   guess   watching   the   rain   from   the   expansive   windows   will   do.   however,   someone   has   beaten   mizuse   to   the   row   of   treadmills   —   the   skull   man.   she   hadn’t   been   there   for   too   long   before   cecil   notices   her   observing   his   near   -   perfect   running   form.   hey,   she   does   possess   a   degree   in   biomechanics   !   she   can   tell   better   than   anyone   !   musings   are   cut   short   by   cecil’s   comment,   having   the   young   hero   blink   in   surprise   that   he   noticed   her.   surprise   is   soon   painted   over   by   amusement,   a   hand   placed   on   her   hip.   ❛   oh,   is   that   a   hint   that   you’re   hiring   ?   ❜   mizuse   ventures   further   into   the   gym,   light   on   her   feet,   and   leans   against   an   adjacent   treadmill.   ❛   i   wasn’t   trying   to   be   sneaky.   you   wouldn’t   even   see   or   hear   me   coming.   ❜   she   adds  even   if   cecil   already   knows   (   he   knows   everything   ).    ❛   i   could   fit   right   in,   don’t   cha’   think   ?   ❜

where: nsa facilities who: @kyllini

cecil does his best thinking - as most people do - away from everyone else. it’s not the reason he took up distance running, but the running makes it easier to think. makes it easier to not have to talk to people though, regrettably, when he has to use a gym that’s not always the case. the thunderstorm bottoming out over novus keeps him inside; oxygen mask securely in place and pale eyes focusing on nothing but said storm pummeling the city while he runs on a treadmill in the comfort of the nsa’s facilities. the media may have moved on from buchanan’s catastrophe (and accepted the truth kronos supplied), but he hasn’t. and won’t. still, it’s hard for him to focus on it when he can feel (and see, thanks to the reflection of mizuse in the window) someone watching him. he slow the treadmill to a fast walk, removing the restrictive mask as he does before wiping sweat from his face with a towel. “if you’ve grown bored of sentinel and are trying to join my division, you’ll have to be sneakier than that, mizuse.”

❛   oh,   anytime   !   ❜   mizuse   immediately   picks   up   on   the   gesture,   swiveling   to   walk   the   opposite   direction   of   the   group   of   office   employees.   how   are   you   doing   ?   a   question   EVERYONE   is   asking.   it   has   the   speedster   internally   grimace;   however,   her   visage   displays   a   nonchalant   smile   and   a   shrug   of   slender   shoulders.   she’s   fine.   she   HAS   to   be.   the   continuous   training   seems   like   punishment   after   the   incident   she   failed   to   stop   in   time,   but   it’s   to   just   get   better   ..   faster   ..   stronger,   so   she   can   next   time   right   ?   it's   the   reason   she   is   in   sentinel   and   not   paragon.   ❛   i’m   doing   just   fine   !   have   they   shown   you   the   latest   analytics   from   my   training   this   week   yet   ?   i’m   totally   kicking   ass.   ❜   

"not so much a bribe but a guarantee," he teases. his laughter meets hers, a hearkening back to days of training. he will never deny the swell of pride as she takes on the role of sentinel, but he cannot ignore the twinge of sadness either. it happens with all his former trainees, but mizuse's training sessions were always a delight. challenging to develop, but always exciting to witness her execute.

kiran smiles as she holds the bag to him, plucking a gummy from the pack. "thank you -- for this and for your time." eyes flicking to down the hall to the other workers mingling, he tips his head the opposite way. let's walk and talk.

"i wanted to check in and see how you're holding up. really --- how are you doing?"

optics   gaze   upon   a   VIVID   kandinsky   painting,   analyzing   the   vibrant   colors   as   thoughts   of   tonights’   revelations   swirl   inside   of   her   mind.   mizuse   wanted   to   take   a   break   from   the   commotion   inside   the   main   ballroom   and   see   the   newest   installations   herself.   taking   a   break   standing   around   in   heels   is   a   plus,   too.   in   peripheral   vision,   mizuse   notices   the   approach   of   a   figure   —   a   kronos   employee.   posture   straightens,   but   she   doesn’t   move   besides   moving   the   pair   of   heels   to   the   other   side   of   her   to   free   up   space   on   the   furniture.   ❛   i’ve   seen   performances   better   than   anything   they   could   even   DREAM   of   doing,   ❜   a   subtle   smile   and   a   glance   towards   saskia,   tucking   feathery   onyx   tresses   behind   her   ear.   ❛   s’not   fair   they’re   the   only   ones   who   get   to   showcase   their   talents   …   i   think   we   all   should   deserve   a   shot   to   wow   the   crowd,   ❜   the   speedster   slightly   leans   towards   saskia,   the   curl   of   her   lips   playful.   ❛   i   am   a   pretty   good   singer,   y’know.  i   could   definitely   push   the   twins   out   of   first   place.    . . .    you   got   a   secret   talent   ?   ❜   

when: 7 january 2040 where: buchanan's annual gala who: open!

saskia loves a good party - especially one where the food and drinks are on her boss’s dime - as much as the next person, but even she needs to step away for a moment. blame it on buchanan’s announcement and the sudden need of every single kronos employee to come seek her out and congratulate her as if she’d created the whole damn serum herself. she’s but a small part of the machine and she doesn’t like taking credit for other people’s work.

she doesn’t really want any credit for this either.

the sight of the ‘miracle twins’ leaves her nauseated and with the whole museum being available, saskia takes advantage - meandering from exhibit to exhibit until there’s fewer and fewer people and no chatter about super serums or wonder twins. “i think they’re going to put on another performance here in a few minutes,” she says. she sits on a bench in front of a large painting but facing away from it in a swirl of braids and green fabric. “you sure you wanna miss out on that?”

an      amused      chortle      emits      from      her      nose      at      the      comparison      baz      responds      with,     too      busy     indulging      in      the      taste      of      fresh      tomatoes      and      tangy      balsamic      vinegar,      but      still      extends      her      plate      towards      her      mentor      if      he’s      interested      in      another      piece.      a      crude      way      to      put      it,      but      he’s      right      —      a      true      statement      for      many      retorts      in      the      conversations      they’ve      had      bonding      throughout      mizuse’s      years      at      the      nsa.      now      a      fresh      graduate      and      focusing      all      of      her      time      on      being      a      part      of      sentinel,      she      has      missed      spending      time      with      baz.      a      twinge      of      disappointment      twists      her      heart    the      nsa      doesn’t      think      she's     READY      to      be      a      part      of      the      paragon      team,      but      this      only      fuels      her      determination      to      improve      and      demonstrate      she      can      fit      right      in      with      the      big      leagues.      mizuse      can’t      help      but      feel      a      bit      of      gratitude      towards      the      twins      for      shifting     all     the      attention      to      them,      so      the      press      wouldn’t      be      focused      on      her      rookie      debut      or      the      celebrity      status      of      paragon      heroes.      brows      then      raise      at      what      comes      next      from      baz,      placing      a      hand      on      her      sternum      to      feign      offense      as      she      grins      up      at      him.      ❛     ha     !     that      doesn’t      sound      like      what      happened      during      my      21st      birthday      party.      i’m      a      responsible      partier     !      ❜      the      hand      leaves      to      close      into      a      fist      and      nudge      his      closest      bicep      to      her.      ❛      do      you      mean      that’s      what      happened      during      YOURS   ?   ❜

>his   back   rests   comfortably   against   the   bar,      drink   nursed   in   hand   shaken   through   the   fidgets   of   calloused   fingers.      darkened   hues   watch   her   with   a   familial   warmth,      humming   in   subtle   agreement   as   mizuse   continues   to   toss   around   her   speculations.      whatever   this   serum   is,      whoever   it’s   going   to   affect      …      he   really   couldn’t   care   less.      nothing   can   replace   the   real   thing      :      the   birth   lottery   won   by   their   enhanced   genetics   and   years   of   training   surely   can’t   be   toppled   by   some   magic   in   a   bottle.      especially   not   by   a   money-hungry   mad   scientist   masking   as   an   innovator.      “      a   shitty   car   works   but   doesn’t   make   it   any   less   of   a   shitty   ride,      ”      taking   a   piece   from   her   plate,      he   pops   it   into   his   mouth   without   so   much   of   another   word.      the   sight   of   the   two   being   so   close   is   one   that’s   expected   out   of   the   two   heroes,      having   been   in   training   together   for   so   long      …      even   having   the   chance   of   seeing   mizuse   grow   to   be   the   formidable   hero   she   is   today.      he’s   now   only   mildly   disappointed      (      instead   of   immensely,      quite   different   to   his   reaction   during   her   graduation      )      she   isn’t   by   his   side   in   paragon.      “      and   we’ll   have   front   row   seats   to   the   inveitable   trainwreck.      it’s   like   binge   drinking   the   first   day   you   got   legal      …      bound   to   puke   all   over   the   place   and   pass   out   in   the   street.      sounds   familiar      ?      ”