"We must have words."
That was the phrase Gogonji used when he spoke to his younger brother over the linkpearl the stout Dunesfolk had given him. He hadn't made much use of it prior - Chachanji had a habit of being rather loose-lipped, so the eldest Gegenji child had found it prudent to not speak much on his ventures until well after the fact with him - but he found himself glad at having it given the circumstances. Moving to speak to his sibling at the Still Shore would likely cause... unneeded complications, as both the topic of their needed conversation and the rabid pack that defended her both made residence there.
So instead, the Gegenjis were set to meet at the airship cafe in Ul'dah. Already much quieter than the inane din that so frequented the Quicksand, Gogonji had made a point of finding a secluded spot away from even the meager collection of patrons. He had mused in retrospect that perhaps the cafe at the Toll might be better suited to the matter at hand, however it would also put the boy closer to the safety net of the family - ready to accept and baby him should he go running to them.
There would be no such escape here.
"U-um... I-I'm here ta meet someones," came the familiar childish tone to Gogonji's ears, and he was already set to wince for what he knew would follow next. "I-it's me brother."
So blase with information - the older brother noted with a distinct frown marring his features - drawing easily manipulated connections out for everyone to see. Gogonji had already been forced to deal with that John fellow and the ever-obnoxious Artemis using his real name instead of the one he presented to the public in every single one of their encounters. And that wasn't mentioning all the others who the boy had brought with him to the Castrum - they had his true name and a face to put it to. Fortunately, all of them had remained quiet while "Tmesis" started embedding himself into the intricacies of Ul'dahn noble circles. It was only that particular trio that continued to be the problem, which his younger sibling being the biggest offender.
It was no small wonder, then, that Gogonji's expression was less than kind when little Chachanji waddled his way over to his table - grimmer still than his usual dour expression. He nursed a cup of chamomile tea, hardly touched, as his younger brother clambered into the chair set adjacent to him. He took only the smallest sips as Chachan got himself settled in before speaking.
"You're late."
"A-ah, yeah, s-sorry, Go-nii," the younger sibling mumbled timidly, scratching at the fluffy mass of unkept emerald-hued hair that he had - for reasons beyong Gogonji's understanding - felt the need to highlight with a topping of ivory that made it look like he was forever returning from Coerthas' icy clime. "I-I was helpin' Ms. Momodi move some fruit crates from La Noscea, and..."
"I am in little mood for excuses, Chachanji."
"I-I ain't makin' excuses..." little Chachan countered, though he looked away and tapered off even as he said it. The boy had always been a terrible liar, a memory that threatened to melt Gogonji's stern expression as he mused on it. He was quick to strike it down, however. He had to remain firm, for Chachanji's sake.
"Whether it is an excuse or not, you are late," Gogonji restated neatly, taking another sip of his tea. "The juice I ordered for you has likely gotten quite warm now."
"A-ah, n-no! I-it's fine!" the youngest Gegenji asserted, taking a long sip of the obviously quite warm grape juice that had been left for him. He still did his best to at least look like he was enjoying the beverage, to his credit; even going so far as to flash a timid smile his brother's way as he finished. "S-see? I-it's good."
"... Very well," the elder brother relented, setting down his tea cup. "I assume you know why I called you here, yes?"
The stiffness that sharply entered the younger Lalafell's frame was proof enough that he did. It was not unlike the time the boy had snuck into Gogonji's bedroom for a late-night story, and had gone straight as board when he heard the sound of their father traversing the hall to use the restroom. The boy was like an alerted hare, ready to dart to its burrow at the first sign of danger. Gogon had chosen the location well, however - there was no such "burrow" within easy reach. And so he had little choice but to face the matter at hand.
"V-Virara?"
"Virara," Gogonji echoed, his tone heavy. "I have been... informed that you have been in contact with her, despite my wishes. I would like to know why. Now."
Chachanji fidgeted in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with his brother. The violet orbs that they shared seemed eager to take in anything but the steady gaze of his elder sibling. Gogonji had half a mind to reach across the table and force the boy's attentions on him, but the furniture had been made for the use of much taller folk and thus made such options difficult. Instead, he settled for rapping the handle of his cane neatly against an upturned palm."
"Now, Chachanji."
"W-well, sh-she's me frand."
"Friend," Gogonji corrected without missing a beat, continuing on. "It is pronounced 'friend,' Chachanji, and no she is not."
"Y-yes she is!" the boy snapped back with a surprising amount of energy, though he recoiled after doing so. The elder brother's mustache drooped some, framing the deepening frown on his features. Again the handle of the cane tapped against his upturned palm, garnering a small wince from Chachanji.
"No, she is not," Gogon repeated firmly. "She is a wild beast that refuses to be tamed. Your attempts at 'friendship' with her have only resulted in you being hurt for your efforts. It was a mistake for me to task her with your protection."
"... Y-you what?"
"In return for aiding her in her aetheric imbalance, I bade her keep watch over you," the elder Gegenji explained matter-of-factually, leaning forward a bit as he did so. "To protect you while I recovered. It was a mistake. I am seeking to correct it."
"I... I dun need no 'protector,' Go-nii!" Chachanji objected, again with surprising fervor. "I-I'm th' one halpin' folks!"
"'Helping.'"
"That's what I said."
"No, it is not," Gogon corrected, again with his firm tone. "And you do. Look what happened: you sought to chase after her for Twelve knows whatever reason... and you ended up nearly breaking your legs in the process. Or did you so easily forget your time bedridden and forced to wear those braces?"
"N-no, I haven't..." the younger sibling admitted weakly, like the mewling of a couerl kitten. "B-but I-I talked it out wit Virara. Th-things are better now. I-it's akay."
"Is it?" the elder Gegenji child canted his head to one side, raising a brow. "She has not been punished at all for her selfish actions, has not suffered any loss for her blatant disregard for your wellbeing. Given your... unwavering willingness to 'forgive and forget,' how long until she uses you again to her own benefit?"
The cane clattered solidly on the tabletop as Gogonji leaned forward again, fingers wrapped tight around the shaft. While his tone had been relatively even, the intensity behind it had been quietly building as he spoke. The words that followed came out in halting spurts of thinly restrained displeasure.
"That. Is why I forbade you... from being near her," he stated neatly. "That. Is why... you cannot see her. That. Is why... you will obey me this time, and sever all future connection with her."
"N-no!"
"Yes."
"No!" the boy repeated emphatically, going so far as to slam his gloved hands against the tabletop, drawing the unwanted attention of the other patrons of cafe. And sending the remnants of Gogonji's drink sloshing about in the teacup, sending some spilling over the side to stain the wood dark. The elder brother was not happy with either.
"You will watch your tone, Chachanji, when we are in public."
"B-but..." little Chachan blubbered, the beginnings of tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "V-Virara's me frand! I... I dun want ta not see 'er no more..."
"She is no friend, Chachanji," Gogon corrected again, both the boy's horrible little mishmash of Eorzean accents as well as his statement on the matter. "We have already spoken on this. She will do naught but harm you, and since you will not keep away on your own, I will enforce it instead."
"B-but... I dun wanna!"
Gogonji made a face. The boy was being too childishly resistant, and his blubbering would only continue to cause a scene and draw unneeded attention. He settled back in his chair, seeking to both take the reins of the conversation again as well as quell the emotions in the air.
"It is... for the best, Chachanji," he explained to his sniffling sibling, eyes furtively flitting to the gazes still sent their way. He felt not unlike a parent with a screaming infant in the middle of a well-to-do restaurant. It was not pleasant. "There will be others, now stop acting so childish."
"No," Chachanji repeated again, eliciting a heavy sigh from his elder brother. "N-not until ya let me 'n Virara stay frands."
"Is this how it's going to be, then?" Gogonji snapped, frustration creeping into his tone again as he gesticulated with one hand. "You're, what, seventeen summers old now? Nearly eighteen? And here you are throwing a tantrum like an infant because you cannot get your way."
"I-I am not..."
"We are done with 'discussion,'" the older brother stated with finality, descending from his seat. He clacked his cane once neatly against the floorboards of the cafe. "Come along."
"W-where are we goin'?"
"Home. You will be staying with Annunu and I from now on. That Free Company of yours is obviously toxic for you, I should not have let you remain there - rabid protectors or no. Another mistake I seek to rectify."
"N-no!" the boy wailed again like a petulant child, drawing attention back upon them again. "I dun wanna! I wanna stay at Coralhaus!"
"It is the Still Shore, Chachanji, and its name is apt," Gogonji corrected for a third time. "It is a stagnant locale where only pests gather and breed - like a swarm of chigoes, seeking to feed off any foolish enough to remain near. A den of filth and disease, and wholly unsafe for the likes of you."
"I-it is not!" Chachan snapped, rubbing viciously at his reddened cheeks to drive away the tears. "C-Coralhaus is full'a nice peoples! L-like Ms. Jancis 'n Mr. Tau 'n Ms. Certia! Y-yer jus' mad because they wouldn't let yer grumpy butt in!"
"... What."
"Ya heard me." The younger Gegenji thrust an accusing finger in his older brother's direction. "Ya cause all these pro'lems fer ev'ryone 'n then yer upset 'cuz Coralhaus won't let ya in a'cuz'a it."
"I don't even know where to begin on correcting you on your multitude of errors," Gogonji sighed, shaking his head. "But we will have time enough back home. Come."
"No."
"I said come along, Chachanji."
"You can't make me."
"This is an order as both your older brother and heir to the Gegenji name."
"... Y-yer only one'a those, y'know..."
"What?" That statement got the elder brother to turn around and face his younger more fully. The boy was standing rather adamantly at his chair, having refused to budge as soon as he learned his brother's plan for him. Stubborn and unyielding, like their father. And that irked him.
"Y-ya may be me brother, Go-nii, but ya ain't heir no more. Didn't ya notice, or were ya too busy bein' a meanie?" Chachanji murmured as he lifted his messy jade bangs to reveal the gemstone affixed to his forehead. In Dunesfolk society, such a symbol usually was merely to display the moon of their birth. For the Gegenji family, however... "After ya ran away from home, Papa named me th' new heir ta th' name, s-so there."
It was as if Gogonji's legs were kicked out from under him, and he leaned more heavily on his cane. He wanted to deny it, refute it - his father wouldn't dare pass off his birthright so flippantly. Chachanji was a mere boy who liked to pretend to fight monsters with sticks and cried whenever his hammer managed to inevitably find his fingertips. He was no heir - it would be a bigger mistake than his stubborn clinging to the production of archaic weaponry. And yet, there was the sign of that exact thing being brazenly brandished - the mark that so neatly mirrored the one on his own brow.
"S-so I dun hafta listen ta anythin' ya say if'n I dun wanna, Go-nii!" Chachanji finished with a sort of twisted, childish pride. He stood proudly there for a moment, until he noticed the expression on his older brother's face. And then all his standoffish demeanor melted away. "G-Go-nii...?"
"H-he wouldn't... he couldn't..." Gogonji murmured as he clutched at his cane tightly with white-knuckled hands, the words repeating like a mantra as they bubbled forth from his lips. "Everything I did... everything I endured... was to show him... show him a better business. Then... then the razing... and I... I..."
"I-it's akay, Go-nii," his younger brother insisted, timidly approaching him, a gloved hand reaching out to him. "Y-yer still me older brother... th-there's still that, right?"
He moved without thinking, acted without even hesitating, lashing out at his younger brother with a swipe of his cane. Chachanji was quicker, though, hopping back just enough so that the length of wood and metal slashed only air. Combat training - the boy had undergone some manner of combat training. Of course, why else would he have been able to overcome Khamja along with his insufferable allies? What else had he missed?
It was if a haze had lifted from Gogonji's eyes as he took in the situation. The boy's strong frame - honed from cycles toiling at the forge, likely at their father's insistence after he had left to prove his business plan - was coiled back into a defensive position, in a pose not unlike one of the Sultana's own guard. The armored gauntlets and sabatons weren't store-bought but hand-crafted, in a style still familiar to the elder Gegenji child despite over a decade away from the forges. The hammer strapped to his back was also like their father's - capable of both crafting mighty weapons, and being used as one as well should the need arise.
This was Chachanji: the new heir to the Gegenji family. And Gogonji had attacked him. Even if he could have been accepted back into the fold with all the evidence he was collecting for his new information network, that was gone now. Father would never accept someone who would so willingly attack the family heir not once, but thrice. He would never be recognized now.
"G-Go-nii?"
The room was spinning, with sounds and colors either too muted or too loud. Voices that were both familiar and not pounded in his head, clawing at his mind. A fervent and careless Mhach researcher, an ancient Hellsguard as mighty as the mountains he lived in, an egotistical Ishgardian noble youth riding on the coat-tails of his family's legacy, and a whisper of a girl gifted with power greater than she could handle. Sights, sounds, memories, successes, failures, so many failures - it was all too much.
"Go-nii!"
The well-worn cafe floorboards came up quickly to meet the eldest Gegenji child, and then everything went black.
~