Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ The Way of War ❯ Shopping! Work Clothes just don't work! ( Chapter 4 )

Chesta smiled, as he placed an armored foot on the dock. He took a deep breath of air, and sighed.

"Home at last!"

Migel rolled his eyes, as he followed Chesta. Chesta had been assigned to stay with Migel at all times, until they were sure that he was not going to escape. Chesta was sure that he wouldn't try, but he had to follow Dilandau's orders.

They walked through the crowd on the deck, people immediately jumping out of the way for the soldiers. Wearing a Zaibachian uniform demanded such respect, and the public gave.

The small army walked through the streets, parading their captures through the large city. People were silent as they watched them pass.

Migel felt very uneasy, and almost couldn't wait until they arrived at the military base. He was also anticipating Chesta buying him some new clothing. Chesta's were a bit snug, especially the pants. He had to fight every urge that he had to just rip them off.

When they arrived to a large, Grey building, the elite and the soldiers split. The soldiers pushed the crowd of captives around the building. Migel craned his neck to watch them go... He sighed, thinking that he would never see any of those people again. It's not like he knew them well, but he did know them, and it was somewhat depressing to think of what would happen to them. At first, he thought it was a public execution or something of the sort. Then, he thought maybe... they were going to be sold as slaves, or prepped to work in the fields or something like that.

He frowned in disgust. Someday... when he had no reason to live... he'd kill whoever the hell was in charge. But for now...

The small group of elite dispersed as they entered the building. Chesta tugged on Migel's arm, smiling.

"We have the rest of the day off, you know... We could go buy your clothing now."

Migel remained silent for a moment, examining his surroundings.

"Yeah.. whatever..." he sighed deep, and looked down to his dirty boots. They were still covered in the grime from Reydeen... He choked on a sob.

Chesta touched his shoulder lightly, as if to comfort him.

"Oh Migel..."

Migel took a deep breath, and looked back up to Chesta.

"I'm.. I'm sorry."

"It's okay!" Chesta chuckled. "Look, why don't we get you into someone else's clothing so we can go shopping, okay?"

Migel nodded, and watched Chesta turn on his heel, walking a few paces. He waited for a moment, and followed him down the cold, unforgiving sterile hallways.

********

"Guimel?" Chesta rapped lightly on his door. In the Military base, all the elite were given their own, personal rooms. On the Vione however, there was limited space, so they were assigned five to a room.

When there was no answer, Chesta pushed open the door, and stepped in. Guimel was asleep on his bed, cheeks tear stained. Migel stayed outside, listening in on the conversation. He thought that maybe trying to ask the brother of the man he killed for favors was not a sharp idea.

"Guimel?" Chesta poked his arm lightly.

Guimel stirred, and looked up at Chesta, frowning.

"What do you want, sunshine?" He said, sarcastically. He was shirtless, which revealed that he had a similar build to Migel's. Strong, and well defined, yet thin.. and somewhat androgynous.

"Can.. um... the new soldier borrow some clothes of yours? He's about your build, so I thought that he would fit in your clothing.

Guimel narrowed his eyes.

"What's his name?"

"Um... Migel..." he said quietly. Guimel growled, and shot up out of bed.

"WHERE IS HE?!" He roared. Chesta took a step back, cowering ever so slightly.

"He's... he's... he is in Folken's chambers getting his room and uniform assignment!" He stuttered out, suddenly realizing his mistake.

Guimel frowned.

"Fine." He sat back down on his bed, and placed his forehead in his hans.

"I suppose he's a fellow elite now anyway... God dammit..."

Guimel turned on his side, grumbling. Chesta sighed, wanting to comfort him, but he thought that the last thing that Guimel would want was comforting. He collected a pair of black pants and a white blouse. The blouse was somewhat Asturian in design, so he thought that Migel would have no problem wearing it. Asturians were their importer for clothing, so they had the same general style.

He took a few steps back, bowing in thanks, even though he was sure that Guimel wasn't even looking. He scurried out, shutting the door softly behind him.

Migel stood by the door, his hands folded in front of him.

"Here. He had some Asturian clothing, and I thought you would rather wear that, than something Zaibachian.

Migel shrugged.

"Whatever."

Chesta handed him the clothing, and started towards his room, which was just a few rooms down from Guimel's. Migel followed, walking slow, like a man to his own execution. It might as well have been. Migel still didn't think that he had really much point in living anymore... he just felt that he had too for some reason. The idea discomforted him, and he shook it off, trying to forget it. He didn't want a reason to live. There was no reason to live...

Chesta pushed open the door to his room. Unlike Guimel's, his was MUCH cleaner. His clothing was folded neatly and placed at the end of his bed, and the sheets on his mattress weren't in dissarray. Alll of his books and belongings were arranged on a shelf and desk that he had in the room, and there were a few sketches adorning the otherwise stark, white walls.

Plaster, painted walls. He was so used to stone or wood. It didn't seem natural...

Chesta smiled politely, and flicked on the light.

"You go ahead and change, I'll be waiting outside."

"I don't care if you see me... It's not like you haven't seen that before." He sighed. "You should change out of your armor, if we're going to be shopping anyway, right?" Migel frowned, and threw off Chesta's oh so tight fitting shirt, and nearly ripped off the pants.

Chesta blushed, and walked in timidly, like a child who wasn't sure what to do, but did what the adults told him to do. He shyly stripped off his armor, and set it neatly at the end of his bed with the rest of his clothing. Now, only in his boxers, he knelt at the pile of folded clothing, and pulled out a pair of blue pants, and a blue button up shirt. He set those on his bed, and went sifting through his closet for a blue frock to match.

"Do you want a jacket?" he asked, his voice muffled by the closet.

"Sure...."

"How about red? I think it'll look good with the black pants."

"Whatever."

Chesta tossed a brilliant crimson frock onto the bed. Migel picked it up, and looked it over.

Migel threw it on over his clothing, and sat, waiting patiently for Chesta to finish dressing.

"I don't usually change out of my uniform when I go into public... it keeps you from getting hassled by drunkards or merchants..." he said, and pulled his linen button up shirt over his small frame. He continued chattering midlessly as he dressed, attempting with no sucess to make decent conversation with his new companion.

After finally pulling on his pants and boots, he smiled, and looked up at Migel.

"How does the jacket fit?"

"Fine."

Chesta smiled with relief. "I'm glad... one of the boys at the orphanage gave it to me. He said he stole it... how, I really don't know. I was afraid it'd be too small."

"Uh huh...." Migel sighed, and stood. He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to sleep, and let the world around him go away. In sleep, you could fade away, and no one would notice, or make a big fuss of it.

Chesta stood, and turned to the door, looking over his shoulder to Migel.

"Okay... let's go."