For Klein, learning to impersonate Medici wasn't particularly difficult. Having lived together for so long, Klein knew Medici's habits inside and out, if not perfectly, then at least thoroughly.
Still, when it came to actually playing the role, Klein encountered a small hurdle... Medici's sarcasm was on another level, an indiscriminate barrage aimed at everyone. While Klein had the potential for the Hunter pathway, his sense of morality kept him from casually attacking others or saying anything too cutting.
But the Fool was a man of conviction. He quickly overcame this minor challenge, passing Medici's test and earning his approval to proceed with the impersonation.
"Not bad. Earning Medici's approval means you've learned well." Alaric, in his Lucifer guise, said, eyeing Klein-as-Medici with a slightly critical gaze before offering what sounded like praise.
"What, you thought I wouldn't?" Klein instinctively shot a sidelong glance at Lucifer, his ordinary retort somehow dripping with mockery, perfectly capturing Medici's signature sarcasm.
His body stiffened as he snapped out of the habit, quickly saying, "Sorry, Mr. Lucifer, I didn't mean to mock you."
"…Heh!" Alaric chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Not bad. You've nailed the essence."
Klein shrank under that smile, sweat practically dripping down his back.
He genuinely hadn't meant to mock Mr. Lucifer... it was just that playing Medici had become second nature, and the sarcasm slipped out.
Bitterly, Klein couldn't help but marvel at Medici. How had he survived this long, throwing shade at everyone without getting beaten to a pulp?
"So that's why he ended up in a hot pot." Alaric said, glancing at Klein as if reading his thoughts, a half-smile on his face.
"..."
Right, he'd almost forgotten Medici had died once.
"What hot pot? Like the kind we eat?" Lil' Amon piped up, puzzled.
Though Amon had learned plenty about mysticism and Fourth Epoch history, his teacher, Will, was too seasoned to describe the Red Angel's fall as "being cooked in a hot pot."
Alaric glanced at Lil' Amon, grinning. "That's a question about Red's private life. If you want to know, go ask him yourself."
Klein's expression froze, caught between speaking and holding back. His conscience tugged at him, and he pulled Lil' Amon aside, warning, "Medici really doesn't like people bringing that up. Best not to ask."
Asking the victim about the incident, especially when you were complicit in it, was just asking for trouble!
"…Oh." Lil' Amon said, his eyes darting as he gave a seemingly obedient nod.
Klein wasn't fooled. He knew Amon had no intention of listening. With a helpless glance, he warned again, "Trust me, if you ask him, you'll get beaten. Seriously."
"Why bother warning him?" a familiar, mocking voice cut in. Medici appeared beside Alaric, a sardonic smirk on his lips as he looked at Lil' Amon. "Curious about what it means to be 'cooked in a hot pot'?"
"..."
"..."
"Mr. Medici, good... good morning, haha…" Klein let out an awkward laugh, subtly nudging Lil' Amon with his elbow, trying his best to defuse the situation.
But despite the Fool's valiant efforts to save him, some people were determined to court disaster.
Lil' Amon looked up at Medici, his face brimming with unmasked curiosity. "I'm really curious about the answer. Can you tell me, Red Mommy?"
Klein's smile froze, then turned to resignation.
"Now I get why you were voted out for reformation. That knack for trouble, tch!" Medici scoffed, snapping his fingers. Lil' Amon's eyes suddenly glazed over.
"Since you love hot pots so much, go stew in one yourself!"
Klein didn't know what to say, glancing between Medici and Alaric.
"Don't worry, it's just an illusion. Probably something like Amon being tossed into a hot pot to simmer." Alaric said, studying Lil' Amon for a moment before noticing Klein's gaze and chuckling.
Klein let out a relieved breath.
"You really care about him." Alaric said, noting Klein's genuine concern for Lil' Amon. He recalled their "chase and escape" dynamic from the original story and smiled.
"Well… I've kind of watched Lil' Amon grow up, even if it only took him two weeks to do so. I can't help but see him as a kid." Klein said, laughing sheepishly.
In this household, Lil' Amon was closest to Klein, likely because the latter often played games with him.
"Pfft. Wait till that Lil' Raven steals your Sefirot… stuff. Then you'll wise up." Medici said, snorting as if he'd heard something hilarious.
"Lil' Amon's cute enough, but don't project that onto big Amon. That one's not cute at all." Alaric warned with a grin.
"No, wait... how am I not cute? We're all Amons! Why the discrimination?" a voice suddenly interjected.
"Huh?" Klein nodded, starting to respond, "I know, I can tell the difference... " before freezing, realizing something was off. He turned, stunned, to the side.
There, perched on the balcony's edge, was a raven with white-ringed eyes.
Catching Klein's gaze, the raven spoke with easy familiarity. "Pardon me, could you open the window?"
Klein hesitated, glancing at Alaric.
Alaric met his gaze, nodding with a smile. "Go ahead."
So Klein moved to the window, opening the previously shut pane.
"Thanks. You're a good guy." The raven said politely, flapping its wings twice to fly inside and land on Medici's arm.
"I'm exhausted. Let me rest a bit." The raven said, sticking out its tongue as if genuinely tired. "Any kind soul willing to pour a poor raven a glass of water? I'd be grateful."
"What kind of new Amon avatar are you?" Alaric asked, eyeing the raven curiously.
***
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