Pain makes the muscles in your back twitch and seize, but you find that a heating pad placed strategically on the base of your spine lessens it enough that you can go about making dinner. You have a craving for Napolitan, and you make a pot full of it, enough to feed Company Eight as well, should they choose to stay for dinner. The smell of tomato sauce fills the kitchen, and the popping and sizzling of the ham in the frying pan is a nice, homey sound; it makes you feel less alone in the otherwise silent house.
A shout rips through the lengthening shadows and through the darkened sky. It's always noisy in Asakusa, and you don't think much of it at first; but a moment later, when one of the brigade members comes to find you, one glance at his face makes you follow. You wipe your hands clean on your apron and turn down the heat on the stove, trying to hurry as best as you can.
You're greeted by a scene of chaos. The members of the Eighth all look as though they've been in a fight, and come out on the losing end of it. Beni shifts into a familiar stance, a ring of fire blazing behind him; Konro's shouting for him to stop, but it looks as if Beni's beyond all reason now as he raises his hand above his head. You scream out his name, but the wind rips it from you like a ragged streamer and blows it away behind you.
"BENI!"
It's without hesitation that you throw yourself in the line of fire, intent on taking his attack head-on. Throwing your arms out and planting yourself firmly to the ground, even as a white-hot flash of pain radiates from your lower back and halfway up your spine. You can still remember the childish delight splashing upon Tamaki, Arthur and Shinra's faces as they had felt the baby kicking, and already, some protective part of you refuses to see them hurt. Your breath hitches with the effort of standing, but it's a much better alternative than having Konro step in by using his ignition ability.
Instantly, all the fight, all the anger leaves his body, as does the power that his rage has given him. Your voice has broken whatever spell has come over him. His attention snaps back to you, and in a few long strides, he has you in his arms. He buries his face into your hair, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you've just come straight from the kitchen.
"Idiot!" He says, his voice muffled against your hair. "I could have – Why did you suddenly –"
"Whatever's wrong, let's talk it out first, before resorting to violence." The baby, responding to his father's voice or to your own adrenaline rush, kicks you in the ribs. Once, twice, three times. You wince and sag into Beni's hold, the color draining out of your face; but you remember how the youngest members of Company Eight are watching you, and for their sake, you try to keep a smile on your face. He pulls away, looks at you with alarm written all over his features, but you shake your head, your smile still tinged with pain. "Ah – No, it's not time yet, you know how much he likes to kick – You're bleeding, let me –"
Brushing pieces of his hair aside, you take out a handkerchief and press it to the wound on Beni's forehead, studying it with a practiced eye. The skin around the area is already mottled a deep shade of purple, but it doesn't appear to be a serious injury. Ointment and ice should help to speed up the healing process. Seeing the worry lines etched into the corner of your mouth, Beni endures your ministrations without complaining, and, as you tend to him, you start piecing together bits and pieces of the story.
"Don't you think that this is suspicious?" The adrenaline has caught up with you and you're beginning to feel sick, even though you haven't been throwing up for months now. You try to breathe past it. You really, really, don't want to throw up. "There's no way that they could have been in two places at once. You said you were here to investigate a company associated with the –"
"The White-Clads," Shinra supplies helpfully, jumping in as soon as you trail off. "They turn people into Infernals artificially, using bugs in vials."
Your brow furrows, in the way that it always does when you're thinking. "Couldn't they have been the ones impersonating the Company Eight Captain? And couldn't they have been the ones who –"
– who turned all those people into Infernals two years ago?
The thought is a horrific one. Just what do human lives mean to them? You clap a hand to your mouth, struggle your way out of Beni's arms and run for the toilet.
