"It's really tasteless when you say things like that," Tsubaki says, stern voice undercut by the barest tremble of her fingers.

Jin smiles helplessly at her weakness, lightly brushes it off with his words, "I can't help it. You know I have a bad sense of humor." Before things can get too personal (a joke- how much more personal could they get?), Jin turns to leave the room, and instantly he feels Tsubaki against his back.

He finds himself frowning; he knows Tsubaki very well, enough to be aware of her brash and caring nature since she was a little girl. Seeing her in such a state of melancholy is never less than unsettling, curled against his frame and waiting for some sort of words of comfort, some support. No matter how much Tsubaki had grown, she is the same as the young girl who would follow him around endlessly, demanding his attention in their youth.

As an orphan, Jin had been considered a misfit by most of the community, and had definitely been an outcast when compared to the other adopted children of the Kisaragi family. Most chosen because of their prowess in certain subjects, hand picked (sold, even) from poorer families who would have never considered sending them into higher education. The blood-related children were even better groomed, trained and tutored since birth to be the best. Both tiers of his brothers had only viewed him as a welfare case that their parents had graciously accepted. That, of course, had been their true aim- to take in and train a boy with no family and no place to go, all the while becoming a little brighter in the eyes of their respective circles.

For weeks, he was paraded around at parties like a war prize, taught what to wear and how to dance and when to speak (never). Once he had settled down in his studies- rough and just as basic as what he had learned in a one-room school house, Jin realized that he couldn't let things continue this way, wouldn't allow himself to be snuffed out under the crushing pressure of his brothers. He couldn't dare be out shined a second time (and besides, where would he be able to hide all of those bodies?), so Jin promised himself victory, forgot about the past and only focused on the future; he would see to his rise to power, and utterly destroy everyone in his path.

He studied until the tutor was left flabbergasted and jobless, then had gone to his new father and asked to officially enroll into the military academy. The man had only been the lightest bit surprised, and said, the barest hint of amusement on his face, as though issuing a challenge, "If you can pass the entrance exam, who am I to stop you?" When it was said like that, a brief slight in his direction, there was no way that Jin would be defeated; he passed with flying colors and came one step closer to his dreams of superiority, of recognition, of the look on his family's face when he showed up every perfectly groomed sibling and was called a prodigy by the public.

But long before even nearing that goal, before he was in the top one percent of his class, when he still been low enough to feel hatred for his new siblings and not pure disdain and pity, he had met her. The girl, 12 and stubborn (although he had not known it then), with gloves on her fingers and flowers in her red hair had approached his favorite spot. "You're always sleeping here, aren't you?" Jin sat up to look at her, and she quickly jumped back, as skittish as a rabbit. "Er," she began, blushing from embarrassment at her sudden retreat. She stepped forward, "Aren't you cold?"

Somehow his dark feelings, brooding and disgust faded away to a dull roar, either out of curiosity or interest. Jin heaved a little sigh, deciding that there was no reason to beat around the bush. "It feels good out here."

The girl didn't complain about the curtness of his answer, and instead looked at him oddly. "Really?"

"Find out for yourself," Jin said, a smile beginning to tug at his lips.

Tentatively, she walked closer, her cheeks flushing a little pink, "Can I sit next to you, then?"

Jin had honestly been surprised, had expected her to march off in an offended huff as most of the upper class girls seemed to whenever he addressed them. She was either something different or had not yet reached that tender age. "You don't have to ask me."

She seemed pleased at his answer, immediately plopping down rather ungracefully in the frost glazed grass beside him. After a long, quiet moment, Jin laid back down in the grass. "You're right. It does feel nice out here." When Jin opened his eyes, she was smiling widely, not looking at him but at the sky, seemingly pleased with the nature around her.

"Will I see you again?" she had asked when he had risen to return to his studies, genuinely wanting to meet with him again.

He found it pleasing, intriguing, nice to be wanted by someone, even if they had no idea who he was (but perhaps that was why, how she could even think about wanting his presence in the first place). Still, Jin had only smiled, saying, "It's a great spot."

One month later, she had been officially introduced to him at a party: Tsubaki Yayoi, daughter of one of his mother's friends and no doubt soon-to-be very influential. Even if Jin had been thinking about such things at the time, his plot of using Tsubaki for power would have crumbled instantly. There would have been no way to go about it secretly, not when she had so obviously taken a shine to him since their first meeting. They had become the talk of the nobles overnight.

Tsubaki hardly consented to leaving his side during the evening now that she had a proper grasp on who he was and a connection that was far more tangible than their earlier meetings. Rather than annoying, Jin found it nearly endearing. She was something so familiar that he couldn't put his finger on, not until she looked up at him and asked, hesitantly, "Can... I call you Jin-nii-sama?"

Jin's heart had immediately stopped, and even though those voices were completely different, they lined up in his head. Inside, the silence that had filled his mind since that day vanished, the wall he had made when he told himself not to think about Saya and Ragna had been broken down by this girl. Once Tsubaki's smile faded and she began to look worried, he swallowed, tried his best to smile naturally. "Isn't that a little long?"

"Just Nii-sama, then?" Tsubaki asked carefully. Even though it was still Saya's voice in his head, the words had the exact opposite effect, filled his mind with elation. The other half of those locked out memories came to him at once, the true love and care he had once felt sliding over him in recollection.

His smile straightened, and he reached out for Tsubaki's slender fingers to lead her to the dance floor. "Sounds much better." Nii-sama. What she had called Ragna. Perhaps he would be a little closer to him now- his memory, his past. Jin accepted this, could accept her into his life quite easily because she had brought back pieces of himself that he couldn't live without, had reminded him of what really made him whole (at least, as whole as he could ever be now).

Over the years, he found out that Tsubaki was a surprising wealth of knowledge, but still Jin had taught her more, told her things that she didn't want to hear and helped her grow. He enjoyed the feeling of being depended on, of being responsible for her, and Tsubaki had in turn enjoyed his company. Out of the public eye, he wasn't afraid to be familiar to her; she appreciated his frankness, felt it made him closer to her than most of her other companions.

Back then, he had even gone so far as to wish that Tsubaki had been his little sister instead of Saya.

He now realizes the notion to be completely ridiculous; no matter who it was, things would have been the same, and he prefers Tsubaki alive and next to him. Still the depth of his feelings is concerning to him, especially when she enters his school, all pink cheeks and quiet words when he acts gentlemanly towards her.

Certainly they're close, even he can tell that much, but he's not sure if this is simple distraction, instinctive attachment, or real care. Just this morning, others had began to talk of a potential marriage between them, but Jin laughed it off. "I'm going to the front lines," he said, to end the talk with finality, a little cruel upturn at his mouth, "Tsubaki doesn't deserve to be a widow so soon." Speaking of his inevitable demise in combat always turns her morose, and the statement had hushed the entire room.

He had almost felt regret about bringing it up, but it was the reality of the situation. Jin said so, loudly, declared that there was no point in graduating and going into the military if you were not prepared to die, because what you were really signing was your death warrant. Some had managed to laugh, calming nerves and dispelling the serious atmosphere by saying just how much it was like Jin to be so grave. After all, such a thing as graduation would never come to him; he'd already signed his the week earlier. His orders: to deploy after the first semester after finishing his last credits, a month and a half from now.

Talk about his deployment, his career in the military puts Tsubaki on the edge; her brother had gone to the war, father had perished in one, and Jin couldn't do more than smother the tinge of displeasure when she left the room wordlessly. Tsubaki deserves things, deserves so much more than what he's capable of and what he's good at (hatred and murder). But she doesn't see it that way, not yet, doesn't understand his damage even though she's heard most of it. She's too innocent to comprehend it all, hasn't peeked far enough into his darkness to be truly afraid, and secretly Jin hopes that she never does, that she always remembers him as he truly isn't.

Jin stiffens as Tsubaki's fingers tighten their grip on the back of his uniform and she lays her cheek against his shoulder blade. "Nii-sama," she says, her voice low and lacking all of that earlier strength, "Don't die out there," and Jin thinks that maybe he isn't broken after all- he certainly cares deeply for her, wants to scoop her up in his arms and console her, but more than that he knows that this isn't what he deserves. More powerful than his concern, more overwhelming than his affection towards her, is the feeling of utter wrongness. He can't have a happy ending, not now, not with her (and how would it ever be happy?). Everyone he thought he loved is gone and his love has vanished with them- even though love is supposed to be eternal.

"Death is a part of life, Tsubaki," Jin says. "It's your reward for a job well done, when you can finally rest." He can see Ragna's face now, bloodied and betrayed, the way it sticks in his mind until he forces himself to recall other things. Dying is an inevitable end to everything living thing, and Jin has no regrets about being a part of his brother's end- it was better than him leaving, better than him being untouchable for the rest of his life.

Tsubaki's fingers loosen, slip down his back; she pulls away, brushing what are probably tears from her eyes. Jin has done many things in his short life, will do far more, far worse things for the good of this country and at the command of his superiors (and of course, for his own disdain, his own revulsion). Jin reaches out, squeezes Tsubaki's hand briefly, lets go. His voice is cold, "Everyone dies."

He never does.