The Storms are Over Part 7

Nier wakes slowly, comfortable in a way he hasn’t been… ever, actually; there’s no drafts across his face, no cold stone leeching his warmth, no rough cloth against his skin, nothing.

He can hear the soft rustle of Weiss’ pages as his friend moves about, standing watch just like always, and he mumbles a rough ‘good morning’ as he turns on his side, drawing the blankets up over his head to block out the morning light.

“And a good morning to you too,” Weiss says with amusement. “Though I daresay that you don’t seem very awake just yet.”

Nier snorts and pulls the blankets down enough to crack an eye open to see—

Exactly nothing, because Weiss is still invisible.

Nier grimaces. Squeezes his eyes closed. Takes a moment to just breathe because— because Weiss isn’t gone but he was, he sacrificed himself for Nier and then Nier sacrificed himself and now they’re… they’re in some new, strange world and Weiss still doesn’t have a visible form, even if Nier can touch him and hear him and sense him but—

“Oh, stop moping,” Weiss grumbles from just next to Nier’s head. “We’re both alive and well, everything else can be sorted out in time. Besides, I’m certain my new invisibility will prove useful.”

Nier wrinkles his nose and frees a hand to swat irritably at Weiss, exasperated by his friend’s words; he really doesn’t want to think about how being unable to see Weiss will prove useful. Given that they don’t know much about the world they’re currently in, he’s probably not wrong, but it’s just… it’s too much like the last few moments of his fight against the Shadowlord, with Weiss’ voice in his ear and Weiss’ physical form lost.

Weiss swirls away with a sigh and a rustle of pages, but not that far judging by the way Nier’s fingers skim across his cover. “I would reiterate that I am not a mere book to be manhandled, but at this point I suspect that such reminders are falling upon deaf ears,” Weiss says with another sigh.

“When you start backing up your words with actions, I’ll pay attention,” Nier mutters into his pillow, then sighs and slowly pushes himself up, no matter how reluctant he is to leave his warm, soft, comfortable bed.

Still, there are things that need to be done, and he’s never been one to laze about when there’s work to do.

He shoves the blankets aside and stands up to stretch, already thinking about the day ahead: Urahara had promised that they’d test his ability to see spirits after breakfast and then go from there.

(Whatever ‘testing his ability to see spirits’ entails.)

(He could see Shades, which were supposedly souls, so… theoretically he’d be fine?)

(Well, they’d see soon enough.)

Nier swiftly gets dressed in his borrowed clothing, slides the door open, and makes his way to the kitchen area, following the scent of food.

“Good morning,” Tsukabishi says as Nier steps into the room, though the man doesn’t look away from whatever it is he’s cooking. “Urahara-san will likely be… a while yet, so you have plenty of time to eat and wake up,” he adds with a touch of dry humor.

“Not a morning person, huh?” Nier asks as he takes a seat at the little kitchen table.

“What a surprise,” Weiss says, his voice dust dry, as he swirls around Nier’s head and then settles into his usual position to Nier’s right, the rustle of his pages the only sign of his presence. “Are we to wait until noon, then?”

Tsukabishi makes a soft noise that Nier is almost certain is a bitten off laugh, before saying, “I highly doubt that.”

Ah, so it’s that way, is it,” Weiss says with a air of realization, as if his statement makes any sense at all. When Nier sends an exasperated look in his general direction, Weiss chuckles and clarifies, “This Urahara is either normally a night-owl, or has no schedule that he reliably keeps, but our presence will draw him out soon enough.”

Nier rolls that around in his mind for a bit, then shrugs. “Well, doesn’t matter much to me, so long as we get around to it some time today,” he decides on, then nods to Tsukabishi as the man brings over some food and a glass of water. “Thanks, this looks good.”

“Let me know if you want more,” Tsukabishi says as he sits across from Nier and begins to eat.

“Will do,” Nier agrees as he digs in. It’s relatively simple fare — fish and rice and some sort of soup — but he’s certainly eaten much worse in his life, and it’s definitely reminiscent of some meals he’s had in his own world. In any case, he’s certainly not going to complain about Tsukabishi’s hospitality, even if he had an actual reason to do so.

The meal passes in relatively comfortable silence; Nier suspects that Tsukabishi is not the most talkative person, especially with a near stranger, but that’s fine. Quiet meals have been a staple of his life for years, so it’s… nice, in a slightly awkward way.

Not that the silence lasts too long into the meal, because Urahara darts into the room and promptly freezes in his tracks, eyeing Nier like he’s astonished to find him sitting at the kitchen table so early in the morning.

A quick examination proves that Urahara isn’t carrying anything new to unexpectedly throw at him, which is a bit of a relief even if Nier doubts the man would do it twice in succession. He might not care much about the specifics, and it might have turned out in his favor once, but he doesn’t feel like pressing his luck in such a strange world.

“Good morning,” Nier greets the man before things can become too awkward.

“Ah, uhm… good morning,” Urahara replies, astonishment turning into something thoughtful as he pulls a fan from somewhere and begins to fidget with it. “Since you’re awake, we should—”

“Food first,” Tsukabishi interrupts, pushing away from the table and back to the counter to collect another set of dishes to bring back.

Urahara whines playfully at his friend, though he doesn’t actually fight the suggestion, just takes a seat, mumbles a distracted ‘thanks’, and begins to eat quickly but neatly. “I suppose I should ask if you’re still up for testing your ability to see spirits,” Urahara says, gaze briefly darting up to Nier before returning to his food.

“I have nothing better to do,” Nier says agreeably as he finishes the last few things on his plate and rises to carry the dishes over to the sink. “And it sounds like an important step in figuring out if I can help you with whatever problem it is that you have.”

“Good, good, then we’ll head to the training room as soon as I’m done eating,” Urahara says with a nod, before applying himself to his food and bolting it down barely slow enough to be polite, as if he didn’t want to give Nier a chance to reconsider.

It doesn’t take long before the man pushes his dishes away and rises to his feet, practically bouncing as he gestures for Nier to follow. “So, we’ll head down to the training room,” he declares as he slides a door open and steps through into a dimly lit space with tables covered in brightly colored items. Urahara ignores Nier’s curious gaze, though, and instead kneels on the raised platform and…

Hauls up a trapdoor?

“We won’t be disturbed down here!” Urahara declares cheerfully, before slinging himself over the edge and vanishing.

“Well… I suppose I shouldn’t have expected much else,” Weiss drawls with a flutter of pages. “An underground training room is hardly the strangest we’ve seen.”

Nier hums in agreement and kneels in front of the trapdoor, peering down the hole to try and take the whole thing in, only to blink in surprise at how far down the ladder goes.

“Weiss?” he quietly asks, wondering if he’s actually seeing correctly.

The sound of fluttering pages swirls past his head, followed by an incredulous, “My word!” as Weiss clearly spots what Nier has. “This cannot be structurally sound,” Weiss opines, his voice echoing oddly from the hole in the floor. “Where are the supports? How is this building not collapsing down into this… this giant underground hole? And how is there so much light down here?”

“Thanks for the new nightmares,” Nier says with a sigh, before gripping the ladder affixed to the edge of the trapdoor and giving it a careful wiggle. When the damn thing doesn’t even flex in his hands, he shrugs, swings his body over, and starts the long, obnoxious climb down.

Normally he’d just grip the poles and let gravity bring him down, but he’s still wearing the — very loose, very odd — clothing borrowed from Urahara instead of his own gear, and he’s not interested in sanding his skin off just to get down faster. Not when there’s no rush.

Still, it’s… a lot. By the time he reaches the bottom, his arms and legs are feeling the strain and he is definitely not looking forward to the climb back up.

(Whoever designed this ‘training room’ certainly had some… fascinating ideas about what ‘training’ meant.)

(Who needed such a gigantic space for training, anyway?)

“Did you see where Urahara went, Weiss?” Nier asks as he slowly turns to take the area in; there are rocks and boulders scattered around the area in a fair recreation of a natural landscape, along with some odd dead trees and lots and lots of dirt. He taps his heel against the ground to test it, making note of how crumbly it is. His footing here isn’t as bad as in the desert on the way to Facade, but he’s pretty certain that any vigorous combat will start to kick dust up.

“I have not,” Weiss grumbles as he swirls around in a circle, the sound of his fluttering pages the only indication as to where he is. “How absurd, to request that we follow and then disappear without any indication! If this is some sort of test— Oh!”

Nier spins immediately at the sound of Weiss’ shock, searching-searching-searching

And pauses, eyes narrowing at Urahara’s casual slouch atop one of the taller boulders not too far away.

(Urahara hadn’t been there the last time Nier looked.)

(How in the world?)

“Decided to show yourself, have you?” Weiss snaps, pages rippling and cover snapping closed with affronted fury.

“Mmm, well, I had to make sure everything was ready, first!” Urahara chirps, though his pale eyes remain sharp as he watches Nier.

“Is it, then?” Nier asks as he relaxes his stance and properly faces Urahara.

Urahara makes a thoughtful noise and leans forward on his perch, clearly watching as Nier tracks his motions, and then says, “You really don’t notice anything, do you?” with a measure of wonder that has Nier frowning in concern and trying to figure out what he’s overlooked.

“And what, exactly, are we meant to notice?” Weiss asks snidely.

Urahara hops off the boulder and… there is something odd about him, now that Nier is paying attention and looking for discrepancies; it has nothing to do with how his clothing moves, or the way the light falls on him, or how his shadow follows him, but it’s… all of it? None of it?

For a single heartbeat, Nier is positive Urahara’s fingers slide through the boulder instead of over, but… surely not. That’s… impossible, isn’t it? Even Shades don’t pass through physical objects, though they can certainly melt into shadows or each other if they want to.

What in the world?” Weiss demands, pages fluttering and cover slamming shut in emphasis.

Nier hums and takes a small step back as Urahara steps closer, keeping his attention fixed on Urahara even as he quickly runs through the highlights of last night’s talk; Urahara hadn’t outright said what he was, but the implications were certainly there. And… if Urahara is a Shinigami, and is using himself to test their ability to see spirits, then previously he must have been in some sort of physical form. Which must have been what he was doing to ‘make sure everything was ready’.

(So why did it feel as if this wasn’t going to be the only thing Urahara insisted on testing right now?)

“Maa, we’ll have to work on your ability to recognize when you’re looking at a spirit instead of a living person, but! You can certainly see me just fine, can’t you?” Urahara asks with a teasing little smirk.

“Yes,” Nier agrees warily, keeping an eye on Urahara’s stance and the way he’s holding his cane; every instinct in his body is screaming danger at him, and he has no reason to doubt those battled-honed instincts. Not now, not with Urahara advancing the way he is, more of a prowl than a walk, and—

Nier bites out a curse and leaps backwards as Urahara lunges forward, cane sweeping through the space Nier had previously been occupying.

“Huh, not bad,” Urahara muses as he straightens up and gives Nier a once-over, cane held at the ready at his side. “Care to see if you can keep up with a Shinigami?” he asks, tone just this side of taunting. “I brought your sword down—”

It takes but a thought to mentally rifle through his store of weapons and materialize Ancient Overlord in his hand, letting the blade settle in his grip and altering his stance to suit the lightweight sword.

“Huh, that’s new,” Urahara says as he stares at the triangular blade in Nier’s hand. “If I may ask, uh… how many weapons do you have?”

“Thirty-three counting Fool’s Lament, which is the greatsword I arrived with,” Nier replies with amusement, inwardly reveling in the flicker of confusion-shock-fascination across Urahara’s expression at his answer. “And I’m certainly not using Fool’s Lament against someone like you, no matter how powerful it is.”

“Oh? Someone like me? And what exactly am I like?”

Nier snorts and gives Urahara a look as he says, “Stop fishing for compliments.”

“Mmm, but is it a compliment?” Urahara asks as he shifts his stance to something more casual, limbs loose and body relaxed in a way that puts Nier’s guard up even further. “I’m asking about your perception of me, and why you think such a large, powerful blade wouldn’t be of use against me.”

“Are you truly so conceited?” Weiss demands, pages fluttering loudly as he spins away from Nier’s shoulder. “The blade’s name might be Fool’s Lament, but that does not mean Nier is a fool! To use such a heavy weapon against someone so clearly light on their feet as you would be the height of folly!”

“Weiss…” Nier murmurs with a small shake of his head, amusement warring with exasperation at his friend’s words.

(Not that Weiss is wrong, but he has the feeling even this is part of Urahara’s evaluation of him, and he’s not entirely certain how he’s faring.)

(Does Weiss’ too-quick reply count for or against him?)

“Ah, and do you agree with that assessment?” Urahara asks, head tilting slightly in curiosity and gaze sharp as he sweeps it over Nier.

Nier makes an agreeable noise, not taking his gaze away from Urahara even as he surreptitiously begins to ready his dark lance spell.

Something sparks in Urahara’s gaze, some infinitesimal hint of warning and—

Nier curses. Leaps backwards as Urahara vanishes in a blur of color, too swift to see. Sweeps his arm to launch a wave of lances around him, knowing it won’t be enough, knowing his spells are too slow, his reflexes are too slow, his everything

A hint. A whisper. An instinct

He slashes out with Ancient Overlord. Feels the way it jars against another blade and—

For a moment Urahara is beside him, slender blade caught against Ancient Overlord’s flat. His eyebrows are raised and his pale eyes are fascinated and his lips curl just so, just enough to show a flash of teeth, just enough to send chills down Nier’s spine and—

Just like that, he’s gone again.

(Fuck.)

(What the hell did he agree to?!)

No, don’t panic. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus.

He can do this.

He will.

(Focus.)

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