Different Kinds of Strength
Chapter 1: Kill The Confusion
Author's Note- There is a tragic beauty in Esdese's story, the Empire's strongest who's philosophy works elegantly for warfare. But does it work just as elegantly when it comes to matters of the heart?In my desire to explore this issue myself with impatience for the manga, I've decided to go onwards with my own interpretation. As this will likely deviate from the manga, I suppose it will be an alternate divergence kind of story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
"All that matters is that you're here again, Tatsumi," Esdese said, feeling her heart fluttering with joy at the sight of her love. She knelt down to take a kiss. But as she drew close, Tatsumi pushed her violently away.
"Why. . ." Esdese asked, eyes frantically searching her Tatsumi for clues. "Why deny this kiss now?"
Tatsumi leveled his steely gaze to her. "I'm going out with someone else!"
Esdese's breath caught within her and she recoiled as if struck backwards by a hammer.
What is this feeling? Her breaths came shallow and quick as she brought a hand to her own heart.
What is this weakness?
Most strangely, it wasn't anger that she felt. An older impulse called out for her to strike Tatsumi and put him in his place, but a new impulse-a strange heretofor unknown impulse—would not so much as allow her to raise her hand. . . no, even worse, it would not even allow her to look him in the eye.
I feel . . . she got up, and without so much as looking at him, she turned back to the exit. Her eyes narrowed, as she looked at the cage door. When she'd entered the cell, she'd latched it behind herself, ever careful not to let her love slip away once more. But now, all she wanted was to go somewhere else, and the door was in her way.
Her broiling emotions within her finally found an outlet, and her rage came pouring out. GET. OUT. OF. THE. WAY. Her eyes flashed with rage and, lowering her shoulder, she smashed through the metal bars with a single fluid backhand, shattering the steel of the frame, the bars gave a wailing shriek as they tore apart, their twisted remains finally clattering to silence in the corner of the dirty room. The pain on her arm felt almost reassuring, a warm trickle of blood seeped through the fabric of her arm as she moved outside of the jailcell where her subordinates, Wave and Kurome, waited. My reliable subordinates, fast becoming a very effective team.
"Commander!" Wave said, glancing worriedly down to her arm, but he knew better than to show any sympathy for her wounds. He stood tall, as if asking her to command him. Kurome stood behind him, relaxing against the wall, her own form of standing at attention.
"No one touches Tatsumi," she said in her most brutal, flat tone, "And he does not evade you again, Wave."
She stormed through the halls, all those who saw her, military, political, and civilian, cleared the way in front of her, casting fearful gazes like frightened rabbits.
The strong win and the weak lose, the thought appeared clearly in her head. And yet. . . if Tatsumi liked someone else more than he liked her. I lost.
Am I. . .
Weak?