Summary:
Ayumu Shichi is not your average intelligence pro. He has a fucked up quirk, and he knows it. All his life he's been called creepy, disgusting, morbid, dangerous. He has never been someone that was born to reach high, but he did anyways, because he knew he could do good.
When he dies, he's happy to be rid of the blasted quirk.
That is, until he wakes up again in a new world, in the body of a child, with his quirk still intact.
Will he be able to make peace with the doom he sees coming, or will he actually be able to change things this time?
Chapter 1Chapter Text
Ayumu Shichi opened his eyes. This was surprising for a number of reasons, because his heart had just been ripped out of his chest, and he had watched the timer on his head tick down to the seconds. He had known he was going to die. Always known, ever since Happy Medium restarted his heart in his chest all those years ago. Death came for us all, and he was no exception. He had known it was his time, and he had fought anyway.
Because that was what he did.
He was a hero, and heroes fought.
"What are you doing here?" someone asked in amusement, and he looked around. He was on some steps, leading up to a towering structure he didn't recognize, and cars were flying in the air.
"What?" he asked, and then startled at the sound of his own voice. There was a man standing before him, clad in robes he also didn't recognize, with a cylinder at his hip that looked important. But, what was more important was that was the voice of a child. He was a…
A child.
What?
"Well, he seems healthy. No signs of neglect or abuse," the doctor said as she ran a scanner over Ayumu, and he stared blankly at her. "He's fine, but we really should find his guardians."
"I don't have any," he said, and both the tall man and the woman blinked down at him. His parents had been dead for decades now, and nothing was going to change that.
"What do you mean, you don't have parents?" she asked as she crouched in front of him, and he stared down at her.
"What else is that supposed to mean?" he replied, and she blinked. "I don't have parents."
"Surely, someone left you at our doorstep," she said, and he stared at her in silence. "Did you get lost and find your way here?"
"I have no memories," he said. "I don't know why I was there."
"No memories at all? " she asked, and he continued to stare at her. She stared back at him, and he decided he shouldn't answer any more questions until he figured out what was going on. There was a timer over her head, and the cause of death read 'Order 66'. What was Order 66? And the man… There was a similar timer over his head, and it read 'Sith' as cause of death. What did that mean, and why was Ayumu…
Well.
Why was he changing colors?
That was what he was really stuck on.
He had patterns on his arms, and they were shifting colors, from blue to green to orange and pink, like they couldn't pick a color.
"Well, you're a Patul Nautolan, so someone is looking for you," the man said, and turned. "I'll send out a message to the Patul and ask them if they're missing anyone. What is your name?"
"Ayumu Shichi," he replied, and the man frowned.
"That's not a Nautolan name. I don't recognize that culture. Are you mixed?"
"How should I know?" he replied, and the man stared at him in silence. Ayumu knew he was being rude, but it was frustrating to be spoken to as if he was a child. Even if he was, currently, very much a child.
"Well, he is Force sensitive…" the doctor said hesitantly, and Ayumu blinked.
"What is Force sensitive?" he asked, and she stared at him.
"It means you have a connection to the Force, and a very strong one," she said, and Ayumu blinked a few times.
"What's the Force?" he asked, and there was silence again.
"Well, I suppose you are quite young…" she said, but she didn't sound so sure. "The Force is…"
"It's an energy field that exists in the galaxy and encompasses all living things," the man said, and that sounded like mysticism bullshit to Ayumu, but what did he know? His quirk was mysticism bullshit, ruled by the Shinigami, not himself.
"In any case, I will not risk angering the Patul Nautolans by taking one of their own without confirmation that we can, " the man said, and Ayumu reached up to feel the tendrils growing out of his head. They were hypersensitive to his touch, and he winced. It was weird to see in ultraviolet light. At least, that was what he thought this was. All of the colors were bright, glowing, vibrant, and he was already getting a headache from it all.
"I'm not saying that we do, I'm just saying he is Force sensitive," she said, and the man crossed his arms. "In fact, I've never seen midichlorian readings like this. It doesn't seem possible."
Ayumu was silent, and the man was staring down at him in contemplation.
"I will call the Patul Nautolans and see if they're missing a child," he said and turned on his heel. "They're protective of their young."
Ayumu had no idea what was going on. He truly had no idea, and all he could come up with was that he had reincarnated. That was the only solution he could think of, and he was now at a loss as to what to do. When that Nomu ripped his heart out of his chest, all he could think was 'that's it. It's over'. The timer had ticked down to nothing, and he was finally dead. He believed in the Shinigami, but as for an afterlife? Well, that he had never considered. Not really.
"Let's get you something to eat," the doctor said and picked him up off of the bed, setting him down on the floor and reaching for his hand. He submitted to the indignity with a quiet sigh, letting her take his hand and lead him off, and she led him towards the big open doorway, on the heels of the man that had raised such a stink about this.
They walked through the halls in silence, and he wished he was anywhere but here. He really did. When he died, all he wanted to do was rest, and not have to worry about this blasted quirk anymore. Now, he was reincarnated with his quirk intact, and he didn't know what to do about it.
Some god somewhere was laughing at him. Of that much, he was sure.
Chapter 2Chapter Text
"We don't have any missing children," the chieftain, Armin Sol, said, and Mace rubbed his hand over his face.
"Not even among your spacers?" he asked, and the chieftain shook his head no.
"No," he confirmed. "I don't recognize this name, Ayumu Shichi. It's not a Nautolan name."
"Well, he came back as 100% Patul Nautolan, with no other species mixed in," Mace said, which also bothered him. Almost everyone had some kind of mixture in their bodies. Even isolationist tribes like the Patul had some kind of thin DNA strand of Human, or Rodian, or something in their bodies. The only time you could find a pure strand was when they were sexually incompatible, such as with the Hutts. Otherwise, you rarely ever found someone being 100% of anything.
"Well, he's not one of ours. As I said, we don't have any missing children."
"Well, there is the question as to what to do with him," Mace said, and the chieftain shrugged.
"I have no complaints if you raise him as a Jedi. We have no families available to take in a Force sensitive child," he said, and that was another problem. Raising a young Force sensitive child was difficult. A single meltdown could destroy a house. The Jedi had ways of dealing with it, and the creche was specifically designed to take that kind of beating. "If his parents somehow managed to lose him on Coruscant, well, in my opinion, they shouldn't be in charge of him."
"Accidents happen," Mace said quietly, but what really bothered him was the boy said he had no memory. What was going on? There was something else happening here, and he didn't want to hit a hornet's nest with a stick.
"Accidents happen, and then there's just pure negligence," Armin said snidely. "He managed to make it all the way to the Jedi Temple. If he wasn't abandoned outright due to his Force sensitivity. They probably couldn't take the shame of abandoning their child and surrendered him without going through the proper procedures or coming to me for help."
Mace wasn't so sure. He had looked over the security cameras, and there had been static, and then the boy was just there. Their cameras didn't go through static like that. Someone had interfered, but no one could move fast enough to deposit him halfway up the steps like they did.
Something had happened, of that he was sure, and he wasn't sure if it was the Force or not.
The boy had a kind of world-weary Force presence. Like he was tired, worn thin and exhausted. It wasn't the Force presence of a child. There was pain there, ancient and tired. He felt more like a battle-weary veteran than a child. What kind of abuses had he even faced? He seemed perfectly healthy, so it must have been predominantly psychological. That had to be it.
"In any case, just raise the boy. I wager you won't find his parents, and neither will I," the chieftain said, and Mace nodded.
"He will be a Jedi," Mace promised, and the chieftain's lips quirked up.
"It's been a long time since a Patul Nautolan entered those halls," he said, and that was true. They had their own Force traditions, and typically cherished their children too much to give them up. Which was why this entire situation was extremely disturbing. Patul Nautolans didn't just abandon their children, not unless they didn't have a choice. Armin was being rather uncharitable, but Mace was… concerned.
"It has been too long," Mace agreed, and Armin snorted.
"Not long enough," he said, and stood. "Thank you for checking with us."
"You're welcome," Mace said, and Armin stretched lazily.
"Be sure to send him back for his myrkos hunt," he said. "Twelve, no?"
"We will be sure to send him back," Mace promised, because that was a tradition specific to the Patul, and a very sacred one. He would get to meet his own while there, and Mace would be glad for it. The Patul had a rich culture, very in tune with the oceans around them, and typically built their cities beneath reefs. It was a beautiful culture, and Mace would not deprive the boy of it. Kit could accompany him back to Glee Anselm for it. It would be a bonding experience.
Here's to hoping the boy would adjust well to life in the temple.
Ayumu laid awake in the creche, they called it. He was staring at the ceiling in silence, his brain too turned on to even attempt to sleep. There was an awareness pressing in at the corners of his head, an awareness of all the sleeping bodies around him, and he didn't like it. It was like someone was watching him.
All his life, this quirk had mocked him and his inaction. It tormented him, and when he died, he was glad to be rid of it. It had been something he was looking forward to: starting over from scratch without that blasted quirk to torture him in a crowd.
Shinigami Eyes.
The user can see a timer denoting a person's moment of death, and the method of death.
He saw a lot, and what he saw in this temple was a genocide. Order 66 read over so many heads, and he was disturbed. From what he could gather, this was a religious order, and practically an ethno-religion, and that Order 66… It practically spelled out a massacre. He hadn't gotten a chance to look in the mirror to see what his fate was, but he was bothered by it. What was Order 66? Why was it over so many heads? He could see it over the children's heads, too, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. And what was a Sith?
He was perturbed. He was really, really perturbed.
He had seen death en masse before. He had. The years leading up to the war had been the hardest years of his life, because he had to keep his mouth shut and believe everything would work out. He had to believe in heroes. He didn't know these Jedi, but he could see that they were good people. Who would want to wipe them out? Did it have to do with that word, Sith?
He was disturbed, and he couldn't sleep. He had been given comfortable robes and he sat up to pull them on, belting them over his waist and slipping into the boots he had been provided with. He couldn't sit in this room just overwhelmed with those blasted words over the heads of children. It was too much.
Some god was laughing at him, probably, he thought as he shuffled to the doors, the tendrils hanging off his head heavy on his scalp. He triggered open the door and glanced back at the crechemaster, Tudo, an alien species he was unfamiliar with. He was sleeping soundly, and Ayumu slipped out the door. He was probably going to get lost in this big space, but that was fine. It was fine.
He headed through the halls, not really paying attention to where he was going, just walking to walk. It was quiet and still in the temple, and he felt like this was a peaceful place. They didn't know the death hanging over their heads, didn't know the pain that was about to come. They had a few years yet, a little over a decade, and he didn't know what to do about it. A few of them survived. He could see that much. A few of them did survive. But, it was painful. It was very painful.
He didn't know how to feel about it. He didn't know what numbers were over his head, what fate he was about to meet. He didn't know what was going to be lost.
There was the scent of water in the air, and he turned down a corner to find two wide, open doors, and the sound of bubbling water. Tentatively, he stepped through the doors to find a garden.
It was massive. Plants from all over the galaxy were blooming, and no one was in here. It was green and lush, and he found himself wandering in further with wide eyes. This, too, would likely be gone, he thought bitterly. This too would be destroyed, and he could feel it in his bones.
He didn't know how to feel. He had been reincarnated into a tragedy in the making. He couldn't stand the thought of it. When he died, he thought he would finally be able to rest. He needed to rest. But, he couldn't. He couldn't rest, because he was in the middle of it now. Some religious order doomed to be wiped out had taken him in, and they were supposed to be his family now.
He was a child again. That was the worst part. He had always hated being a child, and had grown up far too fast because of this blasted quirk. He had to be confronted with mortality at the age of four, and that had done a number on his mental health. He had always wanted to be a hero, but this was…
Well.
He wasn't happy about his current circumstances.
Ayumu ventured into the garden, and was shocked by the sound of water splashing. One of the ponds' water surface was rippling, and a man emerged from the depths of it.
He looked like Ayumu, except his colors weren't changing. He was green, with massive black eyes and longer, heavier tendrils protruding from his scalp. Ayumu stared at him for a moment as he hauled himself out of the water, clad in nothing but shorts, and he tilted his head at the boy.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked as Ayumu read the method of death over his head.
Sith.
Again, with the Sith.
What even was that?
"I'm not tired," Ayumu said, and the man laughed.
"You should still be in bed, no?" he asked, and Ayumu glared at him. He disliked being treated like a child, even though he kind of was one right now.
"I'm fine," he said, and the man stood.
"I'm Kit Fisto. What's your name, runaway?" he asked, and Ayumu paused.
"Ayumu Shichi," he replied, and the man tilted his head.
"That's not a very Nautolan name," he said, and that was not the first time Ayumu heard that.
"Well, it's the only one I've got," he said. He could still go by Omen, but that wasn't… Well. He wasn't Omen anymore.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ayumu. Want to go for a swim to burn off your energy?" Kit asked, and Ayumu paused. Right. He was an aquatic species now, but…
"I don't really want to?" he replied, and Kit laughed.
"What little Nautolan doesn't want to swim at any given opportunity?" he asked, and Ayumu stared at him. "Come on, let's take a dip."
"... Alright," Ayumu agreed, because maybe it would wear him out, and he desperately needed that right now. He was supposed to be in class tomorrow, and he needed a good night's rest. Of course the insomnia had to follow him to the next life. He really couldn't catch a break.
Ayumu pulled off his outer robes, stripping down to his underwear, and Kit went back into the water and popped his head out to watch Ayumu. The boy stepped into the water, and frowned at how cold it was.
"It's cold," he complained, and Kit laughed.
"Not too cold," he teased. "Though I guess you're used to more tropical waters, being a Patul and all."
Ayumu wondered just what being a Patul entailed, because he was getting the impression that they were very isolationist, but he didn't say anything as he waded into the water and dove beneath the surface of it. It was almost second nature to hold his breath, but then he let it out, water flowing into the gills beneath his head tails, and he floated for a moment, feeling a little uncomfortable at the sensation of breathing while underwater.
Kit circled around him, and a fish swam past Ayumu's face, brightly colored and glowing slightly. It was saltwater, so he assumed this pond was for oceanic species, because they were all bright and vibrant in their shades.
The two of them dove deeper, circling around each other, and Kit tagged him. Oh, they were playing chase, okay. Ayumu kicked after him, tagging his leg, because if he was going to be a child, he might as well act like it, and bubbles exploded from Kit's mouth as he laughed underwater and darted after Ayumu. There wasn't much space for tag down here, and they ended up going in circles, but Ayumu didn't mind so much. It felt good to be able to stretch out.
He dove down lower, and turned around the small reef in the center of the pond, kicking around it before he came face to face with… a shark.
There was a shark down here. It was small, barely longer than his forearm, but he startled at the lines of sharp teeth. It stared back at him, just as startled as he was, and he kicked up and broke the surface. Kit popped up next to him and laughed.
"Shark scare you?" he teased, and Ayumu pulled a face.
"Yes," he replied. "Why is that even in there?"
"It's an endangered species," Kit said, and kicked around Ayumu lazily. "It was hunted to near-extinction on Glee Anselm as a delicacy, so the caretakers here run a breeding program in conjunction with the Coruscant Zoo to repopulate the species."
Another thing that was going to be lost, Ayumu thought bitterly as the shark wove in and out of his legs, passive and not looking to bite, and he tilted his head back to stare up at the glass ceiling. The sky was heavily polluted out here, and it kind of reminded him of Tokyo.
"So, what's on your mind that you can't sleep?" Kit asked, and Ayumu eyed him.
"Death," he said flatly, and Kit tilted his head.
"You have premonitions?" he asked, and Ayumu paused. Right. The Force. It sounded like mystic bullshit to him, but he wasn't one to judge.
"Something like that," he replied, and Kit frowned at him.
"The Force can be cruel sometimes," he said, and Ayumu looked down at the shark winding around his middle. "You're far too young to deal with that sort of thing. I'm sorry."
…
No one ever said something like that about his quirk in his past life.
Ayumu didn't know how to feel.
He truly did not know how to feel.
Chapter 3Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It had been six months since Ayumu came to this galaxy, and he had a few opinions, the chief one being that children should not be given lightsabers. That was just asking for someone to lose a limb, but here he was, using a lightsaber, with a big helmet on his head that blocked his vision. He knew he was supposed to trust the Force, but he couldn't wrap his head around the concept. Trust was never something that came easily to him. And, thus, he kept getting hit with the bolts.
At least he wasn't the only one struggling. Cal was a mess of little burns now, and he was losing his patience. He wasn't sure how this could work, and Yoda was as patient as ever, which was only serving to irritate Ayumu even more.
"Trust, you must," Yoda said. "Feel the Force flow through you, yes."
"I can't do it," he said and lifted his helmet, and the little droid sailed up, deactivated, and Yoda tapped his cane on the ground.
"Struggle with trust, do you?" he asked, and Ayumu frowned at him.
"Yes," he replied, because wasn't that obvious?
"Why, hm?" Yoda asked, and Ayumu frowned even more.
"Because you're expecting me to believe in something no one can see or impact in a meaningful way," he said, and how could he believe in the Force? How could he believe in it, when all he saw was death and destruction? How could something good allow for something like Order 66 to happen? He still didn't even know what Order 66 was. And the words above his own head…
Inquisitor.
What the hell was an Inquisitor?
"No impact, hm?" Yoda asked, and Kit pushed himself off the wall. Ayumu didn't even know why he was sitting in on this class.
"Let's take a walk, Ayumu," Kit said, and Ayumu deactivated the lightsaber and made his way towards the Nautolan. The two of them walked out of the training room, and Kit folded his hands in his robes. "Still getting those bad dreams?"
Ayumu was silent, because he dreamed of his death, over and over again, waking up in a cold sweat as the heart that shouldn't be beating hit a rapid staccato in his chest. He saw Midnight getting crushed under that building, over and over again, and all he could think about was how she was so much braver than he had ever been.
It was inevitable.
The Shinigami were cruel.
"Yes," he replied quietly, and Kit sighed.
"Death is a natural part of life," he said, and Ayumu glanced at his head again. Sith read out there, and he felt an ache in his heart, because now he knew what they were, and he had an idea of what Order 66 was. It was some Sith machination, and the Jedi would lose, for the first time in thousands of years, they were doomed from the start.
"I know that," he said and looked straight forward. "I know that."
"You may know it, but you don't accept it," Kit said, and it…
"It's less that I don't accept it and more that I don't… I know it's inevitable, and I know there's nothing I can do about it," Ayumu said, because he knew. Oh, did he know. He thought of the blood on his hands, the people he got killed trying to save just one person, only for them to die in the end. He thought about how hard he had tried to keep that teenage girl alive, only to watch her perish in the end. Twenty people, dead, all because he couldn't accept one death.
He had long since accepted death. He knew it was inevitable. It didn't make it any less hard.
"I just…" he trailed off, and Kit looked down at him.
"What do you see?" he asked, and Ayumu pursed his lips.
"I don't think I should say," he said, and Kit nodded.
"I understand," he said, "but you should talk to someone about it."
"I…" Ayumu trailed off, uncertain. "I see things. Over people's heads. A timer and a method of death."
Kit was quiet, and Ayumu cleared his throat.
"It's always been this way, and I know I can't change it," he said, and gods, did he wish he could. He wished he could. But, the Force was just as cruel as the Shinigami, for letting this happen. It was just as cruel.
"Why do you think you can't change it?" Kit asked, and Ayumu looked down at his hands. There was dirt crusted under his nails, and he could imagine it as blood.
"Because death is the one thing we can't escape from," he said, and swallowed. "It's inevitable."
"Death is not an ending. It's just a natural cycle to a new existence," Kit said and went on his knees before Ayumu, taking his hands in his. "You understand that, don't you?"
Ayumu knew that. He himself had been taken to a new existence, and he didn't know if he would get another chance. But, why was he here, if only to be the prophet Cassandra, doomed to see the future, unable to change it? He had already survived one war, and now he had to survive another. Because he knew he would survive Order 66, only to fall at the hands of Inquisitor. He still didn't know what that was.
"I know that," he said, even though he and Kit probably weren't quite on the same page there, but he would let Kit assume. "I just… I don't understand how the Force can be so cruel."
"The Force doesn't have a will of its own. Its will is expressed through how we form it," Kit said, and rubbed his thumbs over Ayumu's hands. "It's about our own willpower, not anyone else's."
"I know that, I just---" It was hard not to assign sentience to it. It was desperately hard, and he didn't know where to start with it. "I just wish things could be different."
The Jedi were kind. There was precious little kindness in the world, and they did their best to be as compassionate as they could be. They didn't deserve what was coming to them, and the thing he couldn't get over were the children dying. Even the children weren't safe. And that hurt. It hurt a lot. He couldn't quantify that kind of evil in the galaxy. Children were sacred, and the Jedi loved them with everything they had.
It was painful.
"You're mourning your loss before it's even begun," Kit said softly and brushed a hand over Akumu's tendrils. "It's not healthy, Ayumu."
"I've always been in mourning," Ayumu said softly. He thought about Ai, that little sixteen year old girl that wanted to be a hero so fiercely, and died for it on that ill-fated raid. He hadn't raised a hand to save her, having learned his lesson in interfering, and Tsunagu had never forgiven him for it. She could have been one of the greatest of her generation, but instead she was nothing but ashes in an urn.
He wished he could have saved her.
This cursed quirk… He hated that he carried it into his next life.
"Part of being a Jedi is accepting when things are out of control, and living in joy in spite of it," Kit said softly. "Our defiance is our kindness, and we live by that creed. Whatever you see… I'm sorry for it. It is no burden for a child. I've never heard of a Force ability like that, but I believe you."
It wasn't a Force ability. It was a quirk, and Ayumu, for a half second, considered telling him the truth. Telling him everything. But, it was a secret he held so close to his chest. It was his whole life, and he wasn't ready to share it with someone else.
He had learned to cope with alcohol and sloppy one night stands. He couldn't do that anymore, and he felt like he was losing control with the lack of it. He truly felt like he was losing control. It was like someone had set him adrift in a vast ocean, and he was drowning in the saltwater.
Kit leaned in and gave him a tight hug, and Ayumu hugged him back.
"I can't solve all of your problems for you," Kit said softly. "Just know that everything is a possibility. Nothing is set in stone. The Force isn't that cruel."
The Shinigami were, and Ayumu got the feeling they had followed him to this world, this galaxy. He was tied to them, tethered by his very soul, and their dominion was cruel and exact. People would die until they got their due. You couldn't fight a god.
Even so, he still hugged Kit back, because he felt like he needed it. The hug was cool, their matching body temperatures low and cold. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it all, but he didn't feel any better. He didn't know how he could trust in the Force, didn't know how he could learn and grow with the other younglings, didn't know how he could become a great Jedi. He wanted to be one. That feeling of wanting to be a hero, wanting to help, that had never faded. He was always wanting to be more than this quirk, determined to lay people to rest and avenge them in their death. He was always fiercely driven by a sense of justice, because when you saw people's deaths, all it took was leaning into it.
He didn't know what to do.
He had never stopped wanting to change things.
He had never stopped.
Kit pulled back and stood.
"Should we go back to class?" he asked, and Ayumu nodded. He didn't think he could trust the Force, but he would keep trying. He didn't want to give up so easily.
"Still fighting me?" someone asked, and Ayumu opened his eyes. He was floating underwater, in a blank wash of ocean, the depths going down forever and ever.
Izanami was facing him, and he stared at her in silence.
"Till the day I die," he promised, and the goddess of death laughed at him.
"The day you die may be a debatable concept," she said, and Ayumu pursed his lips. "I always did favor you, you know."
"I don't think what you did to me counts as 'favor'," he said, and she spun around him.
"Isn't it, though?" she asked. "I gave you a gift."
"It was a curse," he said, and then corrected himself, "it is a curse."
"Oh, it's not my division any longer," she said. "What you see now is not my doing, merely my agreement."
"So, it's the Force?" he asked, and she tilted her head.
"In a manner of speaking," she said, and he pursed his lips together.
"I could have done without it," he said, because he was bitter. He was so, so bitter.
"You could have done without it, but not much can be done about something branded into your soul. If your soul was to be reincarnated, your quirk went with it," she said, and his eye twitched.
"You tortured me every day of my life," he said, and she laughed.
"That is the price of what you had. You gave so many people closure, more than what was meant to be. Do you know how many of those cases of yours were meant to be cold?"
"I knew the moment my quirk came in the day my mother was going to die. I mourned her for decades, " he said, and she laughed.
"Yes, I suppose that was cruel of me. But, you learned to cherish your time and be a filial son, didn't you?" she asked, and he inhaled. He wasn't going to get any closure with this, wasn't going to find any peace. She was a goddess, and she was going to be the same in any iteration.
"Why did you follow me to this world?" he asked, and she hummed.
"Entertainment, I suppose," she said, and he twitched. "I want to see what you'll do. But, don't get me wrong. I have no power here. I am merely a spectator to your glory."
"I don't want glory, I want peace, " he said, and she tilted her head.
"Peace is something you work for, Ayumu Shichi," she said. "It doesn't happen just because you feel like it."
"Have I not already given enough?" he asked, and she smiled wolfishly.
"Not nearly enough. Not yet," she said, and---
Ayumu woke with a start. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, and he turned to look at the ticking time bombs over his fellow younglings' heads.
Order 66. Order 66. Order 66. Order 66. Order 66.
The only one spared was Cal, and he closed his eyes.
He didn't want to look.
He was tired of living by the whims of cruel goddesses.
Notes:
i'm listening to the Carole and Tuesday playlist as I write this and my gods give you the world is a banger. anyways, my roommate's mom is here, and her dog is screaming his head off, so i apologize for any errors, it's hard to concentrate.
anyways, here's the discord link.
https://discord.gg/f6hYwutNMe
Chapter 4Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Ayumu didn't know when he stopped struggling. He excelled in all of his classes but the ones on the Force, and he knew he was a disappointment to Tudo. His connection to the Force was vast, and he knew his midichlorian counts were off the charts. Over time, though, he just… flatlined. His connection was tenuous at best, marred by his own preconceptions he couldn't get over about the Force, and he was bitter. It concerned everyone around him, but he tried his best.
Over time, it got easier. He found the Force was… playful in a way. It danced around him with childlike glee, ducking in and out, and it was hard to hate it. It seemed to remind him every day that he was a child again, and he should be enjoying his childhood, even with Order 66 looming over the temple like a malignant specter. He didn't know how to feel about it. Even so, it was darkening, cloudy as the years wore on. He was eight now, and he hadn't really bonded with any of the other younglings. He stood apart from them, preferring quiet and contemplation to anything else.
Which was why he was here, hidden in the shadow of a statue, knitting a scarf for Tudo. He had always wanted to learn how to knit as a child, but his father had never let him. Such hangups were no longer a factor here, and he had dove into the craft. In a way, he was almost healing his inner child. He felt relaxed, quiet and still, with dozens of Jedi passing by where he couldn't see them and see the death that was coming.
He had never gotten used to it. Mourning someone before they passed.
"I don't want you to teach me how to cope with death. I want you to teach me how to endure it."
He still thought about Happy Medium, Rei, his protege. They had stood so firm in the face of him, all determination to be the best hero they could possibly be. He had admired them in that moment, but he mourned for them, because he knew Ai was going to die. Rei hadn't known, couldn't know, but it had hurt even more when he could see that Ai was clearly in love with Rei. It was a young love, insecure and burning bright, and he had mourned that, too.
Ai's death had hit them all so hard. She had been just a girl. A girl hopelessly in love, but a girl. She had so much going for her, and it was the loss of potential that hurt the most. Tsunagu had never forgiven him, and Ayumu didn't blame him, even though he was hopelessly in love with the man. That seemed to be how things went for him. He was doomed from the start.
Ayumu focused on the next stitch and let out a breath, and a Force presence was approaching him.
"My, my," someone said. "Shouldn't you be in the creche?"
Ayumu looked up to the sight of the Kel Dor standing before him, hands folded in his robes, and he managed a bare smile.
"They keep stealing my yarn," he said, and the Kel Dor tilted his head.
"I see," he said, and he sounded so full of life. Order 66 blinked over his head, and Ayumu looked back down at his yarn. "What is your name, young one?"
"Ayumu," he replied as he flicked the yarn over his arm and held the tension a bit looser. His stitches were too tight. He kept doing that, and he knew he needed to loosen up, but it was hard. He was so full of tension.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ayumu. I am Plo Koon," the Jedi said, and Ayumu nodded at him.
"Nice to meet you," he said, and focused on his stitches.
"Don't you have classes?" Plo asked, and Ayumu paused and glanced at the time on his little wrist chrono.
"Not for thirty minutes," he replied.
"I think I've heard about you. From Kit," Plo said, and Ayumu blinked.
"Kit talks about me?" he asked, and Plo hummed.
"Indeed he does," he confirmed. "He speaks very highly of you."
Ayumu couldn't picture that. He was a wreck of bitterness and anger, not very Jedi-like at all, and there wasn't much going for him. He was even skipping class, because he didn't want to deal with not being that great at meditation. His thoughts always wandered and got tangled up in the brambles that always made up his brain, and he wasn't all that good at this.
"Kit is too charitable," he said, and Plo came in a little closer.
"Do you not think you deserve praise?" he asked curiously, and Ayumu set down his knitting.
"I'm not very Jedi-like," he said, and Plo tilted his head. "I've got an issue with death."
"Yes, Kit mentioned you have Force visions," Plo said, and Ayumu blinked in surprise. Kit was lying for him? Really?
"Yes, I do," he replied, because the timers could be interpreted as a Force vision. They weren't, but it was close enough.
"Those can be a lot to handle at your age," Plo said, and Ayumu looked down at his callused hands. "He mentioned that you struggle to trust the Force as a result."
"It's hard to… put my faith in things," Ayumu admitted quietly, and then perked up. "But, I've been getting better about it."
"That's the thing about the Force. It doesn't demand your faith," Plo said gently. "It simply waits for you to believe in it."
That waiting was a terrifying thing. Ayumu could feel it watching him, patiently waiting for him to come out on the other side, and he didn't know how to manage it. It felt like a predator sometimes, but he knew that was his own anxiety talking. It was always watching him, watching to see what he'd do, and he didn't know how to approach it. Most days, there was a sense of playfulness to it, but other days, it felt like a wounded animal, bleeding out and trying to keep a stiff upper lip. There was something darkening it, and he knew it had to do with Order 66.
He looked at the words over Plo's head, and his heart ached.
"You look at people as if they're already dead," Plo said, not unkindly, and Ayumu swallowed.
"Aren't we all going to die?"
"Yes, but you should cherish them while they're in your life and be happy they're alive right now," Plo said, and Ayumu thought about how alarming this all was. Waking up in a new galaxy, in a new world, and being inducted into an order of monks destined to be wiped out to the last of them in a few years. There was hope, though. There was hope, and he could see the scant survivors among them, the people that didn't give up in the face of it.
Jedi would always live.
Where there was hope, there were Jedi.
And that was something he clung to. Master T'ra Saa lived a long, long time after Order 66, and likely lived to see the Jedi live again. No, even flourish. She would live to see them rebuild. And Cal… Cal lived a long time, too. But, there were so many others that died, but all he could believe in was that there was hope. Darkness could only reign for so long before it collapsed, because people were inherently good, and people inherently wanted kindness and compassion. He believed that, even after seeing the absolute worst in people.
He really did believe that.
"I want to believe that, but it's hard," he said, and Plo sighed.
"You have been given a great burden at such a young age, and I'm sorry for it," Plo said. "You should be able to enjoy your youth."
"I am enjoying it," Ayumu said, and the words surprised him, but he was. There was a dark shadow looming over the Jedi, but he was enjoying his youth. The Jedi were kind, compassionate, and none of them thought less of him because he couldn't trust in the Force. They were unendingly patient with him, and every day he was grateful he'd been given a second chance, even if it was with this blasted quirk that haunted him. He got to be a child again, though his concerns were those of an adult, and he hadn't had a happy childhood last time. He was bullied relentlessly, practically tortured by his peers, and his mother died when he was twenty. His father had always been emotionally unavailable, and when his mother died, he just… stopped talking to Ayumu. It was as if Ayumu had never existed, and he knew he regretted having him. They never had any other children, not after his quirk came in, because they didn't want to burden them with a quirk like Ayumu's. Even having Ayumu was a mistake.
That was all his last life was.
A big mistake.
But, he had done good. And he wanted to do good again. He wanted to have hope.
"Not nearly enough, young one," Plo said, and Ayumu fell silent. "But, you should get going to your next class."
"Alright," Ayumu said and slid down from his place on the statue. "I will."
"Shall I walk with you?" Plo asked, and Ayumu flapped a hand at him.
"I know the way," he said and bundled up his yarn in his arms. It was galactic history next, and he was looking forward to it. Learning new things was always fun, though he hated astronav. Galactic history, at least, was interesting, and not mind numbingly dull.
He should probably stop skipping their meditation breaks, though.
The temple was on fire, and Ayumu was leading a group of younglings out the doors. Shots were flying all around him, and he couldn't see who was shooting. It was dark, cold, and he couldn't see anything. A child was gripping his hand, but it was completely dark, only lit by the light of brilliant blue bolts. He couldn't say why he knew the temple was on fire. He simply knew, the same way he knew there were five children behind him, and he was taller.
There was a figure before him, a Knight rushing out the doors, with a floating cradle, and he followed him before a blaster bolt caught him in the side. Bright, searing pain lit up his body, and he gasped in pain before he turned to block another bolt.
"GO!" he shouted at the younglings, and they rushed for the doors, but a stray blaster bolt caught one in the back. She fell with a cry of pain and fear, and Ayumu turned, but---
Her Force presence went out like a light.
Ayumu woke with a gasp, tangled in his blankets and panting. It was dark in the creche, and he was shaking. Tudo stirred in his own bedding.
"Ayumu?" the Tusken called, but Ayumu held up a hand and got out of bed. "Did you have another bad dream?"
Ayumu bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he struggled for air, and Tudo got out of bed and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back to firmly rub at his spine. Ayumu shook lightly, and Tudo brushed his head tails aside so he could reach his back better.
"It's alright," Tudo said softly, and Ayumu shook his head no.
He had never experienced a death in the Force before. It was like a candle being blown out, full of fear and pain, and he never wanted to experience it again. He knew, without a doubt, that he had just caught a snapshot of Order 66. He couldn't see who was shooting, though. It was clouded in the Force, Dark, and he knew someone had interfered so he couldn't see what was happening.
It sent a chill down his spine. Someone was clouding Force visions. Of that much, he was certain. And it was difficult to do that.
"I'm… I'm gonna go to the library," he said, and straightened up.
"Are you alright?" Tudo asked quietly, and Ayumu shook his head no.
"No, I'm not," he said. He could still feel the death on him, crawling over his skin, burrowing beneath his flesh. It felt slimy, like tar dripping down his spine, and he hated it. He hated it. He never wanted to experience it again.
"... Alright. Take the time you need," Tudo said quietly, and Ayumu nodded as he headed for the door, grateful for Tudo's trust in him. Order 66 blinked over Tudo's head, and Ayumu triggered the door to shut.
The first tenet of an intelligence hero was to research, and so, Ayumu would research. He was sure someone had intervened in that Force vision, making it impossible to see who was shooting, and he knew that was probably ancient Sith magic. He probably would be barred from reading material on it, but he could at least try.
And, so, his steps led him to the library, which was empty this time of night. Madam Jocasta was likely in bed, and he made his way to the section on the Sith that was available to the public. He took out a data bank titled 'The Spells of the Sith' and went to one of the desks to start reading.
Research was easy, familiar. He wasn't sure what he was going to accomplish with this, since he was still entirely unable to prevent Order 66, but it made him feel a little more in control.
The data bank was plugged into the desk, and he settled down to start reading, his eyes scanning over the pages. It was nothing but a list of spells, no information given on how they were accomplished, the materials used or rituals involved. That was fine. If he could just put a name to the spell, he figured---
There.
It was in the Sith language, which he didn't recognize, but the description was there.
A spell meant to encompass a specific area and cloud the Force visions of all Force sensitives in a given area.
"What are you doing?" came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Madam Jocasta standing there, her hands folded in her robes and a severe expression on her face.
"Research," he replied and turned the data bank towards her. "Do we have any materials about this?"
"None that you can access," she said, and frowned at the words on the screen. "Why are you looking into Sith spells?"
"... I had a vision, and it was clouded, so I thought…" he trailed off uncertainly, and she tilted her head.
"Do you believe it was clouded intentionally? " she asked, and he nodded, sure.
"Yes," he replied, and she frowned and took the data bank back.
"That will only keep you up at night. Let the adults worry about it," she said, and he frowned at her.
"Well, that's not going to make me worry any less, " he said, and she blinked at him.
"No, I suppose it isn't, but rest assured, I will bring this to the attention of the appropriate parties, when it is not nearly midnight," she said and placed a hand on his back. "Back to bed with you, Ayumu."
Grumbling under his breath, Ayumu slipped down from the chair and made his way to the door, before he paused.
"You will bring it before the Council, won't you?" he asked, and she sighed at him.
"I will speak to Yoda about it. Now, back to bed with you," she said and shooed him. Taking that as a victory, Ayumu made his way to the doors, and, well.
Everyone said Madam Jocasta was scary, but he rather liked her.
Notes:
i planned from the start to make him Kit's padawan but now i'm torn between him and Jocasta. thoughts?
Chapter 5Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hm. Concerning, this is," Yoda said as Jocasta stood in the center of the council chambers.
"I don't believe he's wrong," Jocasta said, even though she knew she was putting her reputation on the line for this. "I know he's only eight, but my dreams have been troubled as of late, clouded. It's not beyond the realm of the possibilities that a Sith set up a ritual device on Coruscant."
"Search for it, we will," Yoda declared. "Call on Knight Vos, we should."
"It requires quite a bit to maintain, so this is not someone that is poor, and I daresay this is someone that lives on Coruscant due to the maintenance," Jocasta said as she peeled open the old book with her gloved hands. "Which may mean the Sith lord we're looking for lives here."
The Council was silent at her declaration, and she looked up to take in the expressions on their faces, though she could feel them in the Force well enough. Mace looked troubled, and Plo looked contemplative. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but, well. It had to be done.
"Missed this, we did," Yoda said, and Jocasta pursed her lips.
"The Force has been growing more and more clouded, ever since the Sith appeared on Naboo," Mace said, and Jocasta flicked to the next page. "War is brewing on the horizon, I fear. More and more planets are leaving for the Separatists, and talks are breaking down."
"Well, there's not much we can do about that," Jocasta said. "All we can do is endure."
"Find the ritual device, we will," Yoda declared. "Ask Knight Vos, we will."
"Thank you, Yoda," Jocasta said and bowed low, before she paused. "What do we do if we can't find it?"
"Endure," Mace replied. "Evil will reveal itself in time. All we can do is wait."
Waiting didn't seem very actionable to Jocasta, but she said nothing. Instead, she carefully closed the book and turned for the door.
"I will prepare material for Quinlan, then," she said and triggered open the door. "All we can do is pray he finds it."
Before things get worse went unsaid, but she had a bad feeling about this. He likely wouldn't find anything. If she was correct, this Sith was crafty and cautious. And crafty and cautious didn't mesh well with Quinlan.
Well.
They would just have to place their faith in him.
Akumu slipped into the water and dove beneath the surface, releasing his gills to breathe in deeply. He had been coming here a lot, just to get away from it all, and he was feeling better and better about things. After Madam Jocasta promised to bring it up to the council, he felt… Well. Not better, not exactly, but more content. He knew Order 66 couldn't be prevented, but…
Sometimes, it was about the effort.
There was a splash behind him as someone dove into the water, and he turned to take in the sight of Kit swimming to him. The two of them broke the surface, and Akumu shook out his head tails.
"Hi, Kit," he said as he bobbed in the water, and Kit eyed him.
"You're up late," he said, and Ayumu kicked back in the water.
"I couldn't sleep," he replied.
"Bad dreams?" Kit asked, and Ayumu read that word over his head again.
Sith.
"Something like that," he replied as he bobbed in the water. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I sensed someone was out of bed," Kit teased, and Ayumu snorted.
"No, you didn't," he said, and Kit paused.
"You had a bad dream, didn't you?" he asked, and Ayumu looked down at the fish darting in and out of the gap in his legs.
"I did," he said, because this time he dreamed of kyber crystals crying in pain and agony, screaming for someone to save them, and he knew Ilum was a ways away, but he… Well. He didn't know. He didn't feel great about it.
"Talk to me about it," Kit said as he hauled himself up on the boulder in the center of the saltwater pond, and Ayumu braced against it.
"I dreamed of kyber crystals crying in pain," he said, and Kit tilted his head.
"That's ominous," he said, and Ayumu shrugged.
"Isn't that how Sith make their lightsabers red?" he asked, and Kit blinked down at him.
"How do you know that? "
"I do a lot of research," Ayumu replied, and Kit frowned.
"You're a bit too young to be reading about things like that."
"Madame Jocasta lets me," Ayumu muttered rebelliously, and Kit sighed.
"Madame Jocasta will encourage any form of reading, so long as you're reading, " he said, and that was true. She was probably not the best example to use. "So? Why the sudden interest in the Sith?"
"Well, they're back, aren't they?" Ayumu replied, and Kit paused. "I heard about Naboo."
"That was nearly four years ago, and they haven't been seen since," Kit said, and Ayumu frowned up at him.
"That just means they're waiting, " he said, and Kit flicked him between the eyes.
"That's not for you to worry about, though," he said, and Ayumu rolled his eyes.
"Well, it affects all Jedi, and I'm kind of tired of adults telling me what I can and can't worry about," he said, and Kit paused.
"Well, that is a fair point, but if there is a Sith master, you certainly won't be the one to deal with him," he said, and that was… Well.
"It doesn't mean I can't help, " Ayumu said, even though he knew all of this was inevitable, but damn the intelligence hero in him. He just couldn't leave well enough alone. It was a problem, and he knew it, but what else was he supposed to do? Just turn it off? After nearly two decades of modeling his entire life around his work?
"You don't have to put that kind of responsibility on yourself," Kit said, and Ayumu crinkled up his nose.
"But, I want to?"
"Ayumu…" Kit trailed off with a sigh and then he tugged at a head tail. Ayumu batted his hand away. "Why can't you just be a kid, huh?"
Because Ayumu wasn't a kid. He was old, and jaded, and he just wanted to feel like he did something in the face of this great tragedy that was about to befall them. He wanted to feel like he had accomplished something and hadn't just cowered in the face of it. He didn't want to…
He didn't want to die like he did last time. He wanted to fix things. But, he knew he couldn't. If he sacrificed the galaxy for the Jedi… No, he couldn't fix things, and it frustrated him to no end.
There were two sets of footsteps on the grass, and Ayumu perked up as a blindingly bright Force presence approached them. The other was more muted, more mature, and the two people were arguing.
"Well, you have to learn how to swim, Anakin. I can't bail you out every time," someone with a smooth Coruscanti accent was saying, and there was a huff of annoyance.
"Yes, you can. I don't want to get wet."
"Well, you're going to have to. Let's go, start getting undressed--- Oh, hello, Kit."
There were two Humans standing there, a younger boy with a blonde padawan braid and an older man with bright red hair that kind of reminded Ayumu of Radio Silence, except hers was more vibrant. He hadn't seen a shade similar to hers yet. The younger one was pulling off his boots in irritation, and Ayumu swam around the edge of the boulder to peer at him curiously. He was burning bright in the Force, with a presence that rivaled Ayumu's own.
"Hello, Obi-Wan!" Kit said brightly as he waved at Obi-Wan, apparently, and he slipped down into the water to swim towards him.
"Are we interrupting?" Obi-Wan asked politely as the boy finished stripping down.
"No, not at all. Ayumu and I here were just talking," Kit replied. "Weren't we, Yumu?"
"Yeah, we were just talking," Ayumu said as he splashed through the shallows.
"I hear someone needs to learn how to swim?" Kit asked curiously as Ayumu came up to the shoreline and started gathering his things.
"Ah, yes, Anakin needs to learn how to swim. He's from Tatooine, you see," Obi-Wan said as he started peeling off his boots.
"Ah, dreadful planet," Kit said sagely, and Ayumu wasn't even sure of where that was. Was it in the Outer Rim or something?
"It is," Anakin agreed, and eyed the water with trepidation. "I don't think I like this."
"It's not that deep, Anakin," Obi-Wan said tiredly, and Kit laid a hand on Ayumu's shoulder.
"Ayumu and I can teach him," he said, and Ayumu looked at him with alarm. He didn't know this boy. What if he had a terrible personality?
"Are we sure we should teach him in the pond with sharks? " Ayumu whispered, and Anakin startled.
"There's sharks? "
"They don't bite!" Kit said cheerfully and promptly pushed Anakin into the water. The boy screamed in terror, thrashing around in the shallows before he came up spluttering.
"Hey!"
"Let's get to swimming!" Kit crowed, and Ayumu realized it was going to be a long, long night.
Notes:
this one was a little short, but i desperately did not want to write sand boy learning how to swim