Welcome to my writing blog! Oneshot/headcanon requests are temporarily closed as I catch up lol. Prompt lists and things are tagged ‘ask game,’ but feel free to shoot me anything that’s on your mind -- random thoughts, questions, ships, etc! I’ve been in Milgram Mode lately, but I also write for fe Echoes and any fandoms you catch on my mainblog :3 (Original aus I'm collaborating on are Lights Camera Sing Your Sings, Order of Attack, and Myosotis)
✍️Currently working on: OOA brain damage :(; 08->03 rescue; cat Fuuta :3; Amane-Nagisa; Kazui love life
Not requests but I'm also picking away at LCSyS (I know I'm very far behind oops...); Thermoregulation; translyrics
Now that we know Kazui's case is highly likely to be the first chronologically, imagine him getting Myosotis memories and trying to stop everyone's murders from happening.
Starting with Haruka, who is only one year away.
The idea of one of the prisoners shouldering all the grief and trauma onto themselves so that the others can be free from it..... owww.... They can’t save the very first victim, but they can save the many that follow. I have a version with Kazui that I drafted when this was sent, but then the second section is an unrelated scene with the new knowledge that Amane was actually the first one ;---; (I also wonder if Kazui would reach out to Shidou first since he doesn’t know when the organ donations started, but that was less fun than having him visit Haruka lol)
“Good day, officer. Can I help you?”
Kazui clamped his jaw shut as the woman answered the door. He couldn’t reveal just how shocking her appearance was. Though she was a complete stranger, he couldn’t tear his gaze from her familiar eyes. They were round and blue, the kind you could just drown in. He’s seen that crinkle of confusion before. She looked exactly like her son.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Mukuhara Kazui. I’m with the Yokohama region police department.”
He hated framing this as official business – he should have been done lying about his identity. Still, he reminded himself that he was stopping crime, even if not mandated by the chief
“You’ve made quite a trek to get here,” she noted. “Is something wrong?”
“I was wondering if I could have a word with your son, Sakurai Haruka. It won’t be lo—”
“What did he do this time?” She flicked a glare over her shoulder. Her lips twisted into a scowl.
“N-nothing! He’s not in trouble or anything. He may have some information for a case we’re working on. He’ll be very helpful to me.”
“I see. You can come in.” She muttered, “but I wouldn’t get your hopes up about that.”
She led him into the house. Everything was ordinary, but Kazui gaped at if he’d stepped into a grand art gallery. They passed by his bedroom, and it took all his willpower not to linger in the doorway. No matter how much time he spent with Haruka, Milgram had always stripped a part of each prisoner away. Now, he was able to see everything. He knew exactly the toys Haruka enjoyed, and the art he chose for his walls, and the view from each window. He knew the color of the walls he grew up around, and the plants that grew alongside him. He knew what kind of couch had been home to the boy as he sat down.
The back door slammed, there was some shouting, and then Haruka appeared. He offered shaky greetings before sitting in an opposite seat.
Kazui had seen everyone at different stages of their lives, living normally. They all had pictures online: an extensive social media presence, a class photo, a congratulatory job posting, something. All but Haruka.
The boy looked nearly the same – Kazui was cutting it close with his timing – but it was still a shock seeing him look so ordinary for the first time. His lounging clothes would have looked comfortable if they weren’t pinched in ill-fitted spots. Dirt brushed across both knees, and a single blade of grass tucked in his hair. Though it was obvious, the thought of the boy being able to go outside and lie in the grass nearly broke his composure before they’d begun.
He coughed. “There’s no need to be nervous.”
Haruka only tensed more.
“My name is Mukuhara Kazui… Do you… do you remember me?”
He had no idea how to go about this conversation. Days of weighing the options still hadn’t brought him to any conclusion. Telling the boy he was a time-traveling murderer probably wouldn’t go over well. But if he lied, would Haruka trust him enough to change?
“Remember…? Um. N-no, I’m sorry. I have a bad memory. My brain is too-too stupid. I’m sorry.”
“No! No, I just...” He inhaled carefully. He was already screwing this up. “Do you… believe in supernatural things?”
“Like, um. Ghosts? Maybe? I, uh, I don’t really know…”
“Not specifically. The thing is. I know a little bit about the future.”
“Oh…?”
“You don’t have to believe me, or anything. I know it sounds crazy. I just want you to know… bad things are coming in the future. That’s why I’m here to help.”
Haruka squinted at him. “Bad things like ghosts?”
If he only knew the half of it.
“You’ve been lonely, right? Your mother has been spending less time with you?”
“I…” Haruka dropped it head. “It’s my own fault.”
“It isn’t. But it still hurts, right?”
The boy paused, unsure of what the correct answer was. His face remained guarded as he watched Kazui speak.
“I can help with that. I know a lot of people who would love to spend time with you. Teachers, counselors, friends. I’m going to bring them here, and introduce you to them.”
The boy chewed on his fingernail, awe fighting with his previous suspicion.
“They’re very nice people, I’m sure you’ll like them. But… I wanted to speak with you first. If anything isn’t working, if your mother is making things difficult, or if one of those people isn’t good for you, you can tell me, okay? You can tell someone. Don’t keep it to yourself. Keeping it to yourself will only make things hurt more. I… I know that for sure. No secrets, no lies.”
Was that too much? Did he sound crazy? Should he have left out the part about knowing the future altogether? Was he only projecting? What if he’d only made things worse? Panic whirled inside of him until Haruka began to nod.
It was a subtle gesture, then a grin spread across his cheeks. His hands wrung, but this time out of excitement. “Are you sure?” he asked. “All those p-people… here for me…? And mama! Um, it will make mama like me again?”
Kazui winced. “Well, I can’t guarantee anything about her feelings. Love… love isn’t a thing to be forced.”
He placed a hand on Haruka’s shoulder. The boy beamed up at him, unaware of the pain in his previous statement. He would be unaware of a lot of pain, going forward, much to Kazui’s relief.
“But I promise you’ll have love everywhere you turn. I promise, everything is about to change.”
--------
Brrrrrring.
“I’ll get it.” Hinako hurried to the phone. She didn’t recognize the number calling. “Hello, Mukuhara residence.”
Kazui stood just after her, taking both their dinner plates to the kitchen.
There was a pause on the other end. A young girl spoke. “O-oh. Mukuhara-san?”
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“I… um…”
Hinako frowned. It was never a good sign when a child called an off-duty officer with so much nervousness in their voice. “Is everything alright there?”
“Y-yes. It’s nice to hear you’re well.”
“I’m sorry, have we met?”
“No. I am a friend of your husband’s. May I speak with him?”
Hinako’s concern melted with a smile. Kazui had likely visited her elementary school or program for some event – it was sweet he made a big enough impact that she saw him as a friend, and spoke of Hinako’s health so politely.
“Of course.” She pressed the receiver to her chest. “It’s for you.”
Just before she passed it over, the girl said, “thank you ma’am. May God bless you.”
Hinako ran the faucet as Kazui offered his greetings.
“Yes, I’m… Pardon? … How did you…? … What did you say your name was?”
He received a pointed look from his wife. The girl was so polite; surely she couldn’t have earned his harsh tone.
“Slow down. I don’t understand. … Well, no, but … What? No! How –!”
Hinako looked away from the dished when Kazui’s breath caught in a choked, distressed sound.
His eyes flicked frantically to her. His face had gone entirely pale. He stepped away from her, towards the front door.
“Is everything alright?” She whispered. Maybe her initial instincts had been correct. She was ready to head out, too. “Is she safe?”
He nodded weakly. “Yes. H-hold on…” He waved her back, even as he fumbled with the apartment door. “This will be just a minute.”
Hinako’s gaze followed him until the door shut. She didn’t mind that the conversation be taken in private, but his refusal to say anything was strange. She twisted her sponge anxiously. It wasn’t like her husband to keep secrets.
~
Kazui returned a little later. Though his eyes were still haunted, he wasn’t rushing into action or emotion. He simply wrapped Hinako in an embrace. His hold was solid and warm, as if he never planned on letting go.
“Kazui, honey,” she leaned into the hug. “What happened? Who was that girl?”
With his face still pressed desperately into her hair, he let out a strange laugh – the kind of relieved release after some grand ordeal or close call.
“I think… it might have been your guardian angel….”
Imagine if dead prisoners are alive in real world with no memory of milgram, what occurred nor the people they met so imagine when the alive prisoners had es are out of milgram and in real world they spot Haruka mahiru Shidou seemingly leading betters paths but not remembering who the prisoners are nor milgram
Oooh I love that ;-; The benefit of living a more peaceful life, but at the cost of not remembering the first people who were willing to reach a hand to forgive them…
It would break Muu’s heart that Haruka went from killing himself for her protection to not recognizing her at all. Though she’s hurt by it, she’s determined to find their old friendship. She’d try to explain everything that happened, even if Haruka never truly believed the wild tale.
Kazui would hesitate to intrude on Shidou’s peaceful new life, but would show up with flowers or some kind of condolence gift for his family. Amane would also send something mysterious and vaguely apologetic, but I don’t know if she’d actually go and visit for several years. Meanwhile, Kazui keeps things vague, not trying to force any kind of connection, but Shidou would be grateful for the shoulder to lean on. Over time, the two would rekindle their friendship with Milgram never coming up.
As for Mahiru, Yuno is shocked when she rushes up to her and realizes she doesn’t remember anything. Mahiru thinks it was just a bizarre misunderstanding and is content becoming friends anyway. Yuno may try to broach the subject of Milgram once more, picking her brain about her boyfriend and verdicts, but once it’s clear it was more distressing than memory-jogging, Yuno vows to keep that pain secret from her.
Now, I did have a drama-03-06 idea with this exact premise hehe. I’ve had this fic idea in my head for months now, so this was my excuse to finally get it down on paper >:3 (This scene is the main conflict, but I promise it has a happy ending in my mind lol.)
Mahiru took a deep inhale as she watered the fragrant flowers in front of the shop. It was a beautiful spring day, the kind that felt like your troubles would float away in the warm breeze. She hummed as she moved across the vibrant display. Her coworker returned a wave from the other side of the shop window. Pedestrians greeted her as they passed by, each brightening her day with a smile.
That is, until he showed up.
“Mahiru?”
A man around her age stopped dead a few feet away.
“O-oh?” She put the watering can down. “Can I help you?”
“It’s you! You’re alright!”
Mahiru had always been praised for her excellent memory, never forgetting a face or a name. Unfortunately, she could recall neither that belonged to this young man. He had wild red hair, and she got a view of his crooked teeth as he continued gaping at her. His grey eyes overflowed with emotion.
“I’m sorry…” She offered a beaming smile and a bow. It was sweet to meet someone so happy to see her, but she wouldn’t lead him astray. “You must have me confused with someone else.”
“No, no it’s you! Don’t you know me? It’s Fuuta!”
“I hope you find who you’re looking for~”
“It’s you! I swear, I know you! My, god, I can’t believe you’re alive!” He leapt forward, crushing her in an embrace.
Her smile melted into a pitying wince. While she dreamed about meet-cutes and shop-side hugs, it felt different when the other party wasn’t fully sane. “I – I mean it! There are a lot of Mahiru’s in the city, you know…”
“But only one Shiina Mahiru, born in Ashiya, only child.” He had pulled back, but kept his hands on her shoulders as he took her appearance in. She didn’t like the way his gaze flicked over her body, from her eyes all the way down to her feet.
“Your birthday is January 17, you’re blood type… uh… was it B? You studied literature at an all-girl’s school. You met your boyfriend at a convenience store, where he worked. Don’t you see?”
She shifted uncomfortably, but he did not let go. Was he someone who’d known her lover? Or just some stalker that overheard her case on the news a year ago? Mahiru glanced over to the shop window to catch her coworker’s eye.
The strange man paid no mind to the distress written across her face. He started listing off even more specifics – the dramas she liked to watch, the magazines she read. He recounted novels that she kept hidden under her bed, and opinions she’d only ever written in her diary. Her breath quickened.
“See? I know everything about you!”
He pulled her a little closer. His iron grip and wild eyes made her squeal. “And I know what you did. I know about your boyfriend. I know—”
“Get away from me!” She yanked herself free. Her cry caused some on the street to stop and stare.
“N-no! It’s not like that.” The man waved his hands to hush her. His eyes darted around before pinning her under that violating stare once more. “I killed someone too.”
She took a shaking step backwards. He followed. She flinched as he let out a crazed laugh.
“I can’t believe I found you! It’s a miracle!” He leaned forward, his arm reaching for hers.
Mahiru took a big stride away, her foot catching on one of the flowerpots. She tumbled onto the concrete, paralyzed by the shooting pain and panic. She could only stare up as the murderer reached out towards her.
He was yanked backwards. Two policemen grabbed under his arms to pull him away.
“Hey! The hell do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off me!”
Her coworker hurried out of the shop. “Are you okay?”
Mahiru simply clung to the woman’s arm after she helped her to her feet. The stalker – the murderer – was led a few feet back.
“Ma’am, do you know this gentleman?”
“She does! It’s me, Fuuta!”
Mahiru shook her head frantically. “I don’t. But… He knows about me… I don’t… I never…”
“That’s alright. We’ll take your number, and contact you when we need.”
“You don’t understand! She was dead! She died!”
His voice was rough and shrill as he shouted more nonsense. Mahiru wanted to curl up in on herself.
The crazed man was moved into the police car. He craned his neck to meet her eyes one last time. His words made her blood run cold.
“I’ll find you again, just you wait! I swear it! Mahiru!”
[In my mind, Fuuta calls Kazui from jail and he tells the others that the trio is alright. Yuno meets up with Mahiru and is much more tactful/keeps her emotions under control. She’s able to get through a little to her, and they have a genuinely sweet reunion. (I don’t know Japan law but in my head if Mahiru never presses charges, they can have Fuuta’s potential stalking stuff dropped.) Mahiru is hesitant around him for a bit, but seeing everyone’s teary reaction to her alive and well, she begins to understand and feel grateful for all their love <3]
Once again you get bombarded by Switch AU stuff yay
Anyways, i wanna talk about Jackalope and Es here as i decided to switch them too.
Jackalope, at the start, doesn't actually take the job too seriously. To him its basically a game, cut and dry, interview them, watch a video and make a judgement (that's not his own). Despite this hes, funnily enough, nicer in a way than canon Es. Even if hes being a little shit even from the start he talks to them more as people than prisoners, he pushes buttons and makes jokes and hes less intimidating overall. Towards the end of trial one he starts realising that this is serious a bit so hes less ragebaity but still annoying. Then trial two it hits that this is SERIOUS and hes very much wearing his heart on his sleeve, hes crazy stressed over the attacks and its obvious. He no longer wants to do this job, he wants to get everyone out and doesn't like this. At all.
Meanwhile, Es keeps the professionalism we see in canon but 10x worse, theyre disconnected. Judgement will be given no matter the consequences. They're still annoyed by Jackalope but now due to the fact hes such an emotional warden. Especially in later trials when Jackalope keeps begging them to stop Milgram and let everyone go, that this isn't safe. Milgram must be seen to its end after all.
Oooh, I really love that it’s more about the free emotions – he can be a ragebaiting tween asdfds, but he’s also just a kid thrown into an unbelievable situation. As soon as he realizes how real the consequences are, he’d be thrown into other emotions: regret/grief, but also anger (“that’s not what that verdict meant, why the hell would you react like that?”), and joy over the prisoners who did thrive. Then Es getting detached even from their fellow warden because they’re refusing to engage with anything except professionalism…. There’s a lot of good angst potential but I couldn't help myself from a fully silly drabble hehe~
“Can you please focus,” Es grumbled.
“I’m totally focused.”
“You’re shaking your ass.”
“And?”
Jackalope continued doing just that. Es sat atop the desk, strewn with notes and doodles and games. Their tail twitched in exasperation. “There are better ways to process the trial songs.”
“Are there, though?” The warden made a circle around his chair, picking up Es’ paws to dance together. The keys around his neck jingled as he rocked back and forth. “I think you really need to feel the music…”
Es snatched their arms back. “I would much rather you feel it in your brain instead of everywhere else.”
“I’ve given it plenty of serious thought! But sometimes you need to trust your emotion, your intuition.”
“Do you care to share any of those serious thoughts?”
“Oh, sure.” Jackalope shrugged, then listed off ten verdicts.
“Eh? You already chose for everyone?” Es’s fur bristled. “You haven’t even held all the interrogations!”
“They’re subject to change, of course. But you said I can judge for whatever reason I want, right? Well, I got my feelings about everyone. I can already tell you that number eight is a load of trouble, just like I can say number six gave us gold and could never have done anything wrong~” He struck a pose just as her song ended.
The songs looped back to the first prisoner’s. “I suppose he did a decent job with this one… The kid kinda of gives me the willies, though…”
“You realize they didn’t write these songs themselves, correct?”
“Oi, I’m not stupid!”
He paused his dancing, much to Es' relief. His gaze filled with passion. Confidence. He placed a hand on his chest, over the silken runed sash, and felt his pulse race from the exertion.
“You said to follow my heart. To throw myself into human connection. To let emotion come before law. To listen, to understand, and to relish in the process. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“…I see.”
“You should try this sometime.”
“What,” they deadpanned, “lean into my human side?”
Jackalope twirled on beat. “Experience fun.”
“Tch.” They hopped gracefully onto the floor. “Scrambling around the room like that is the last thing I’d describe as fun.”
“Oh? What does a mythical rabbit get up to for leisure, then?”
“I… Well…” They paused on their way to the door. “I don’t have time for anything like that. I have my duties here, as do you.”
“Yeah, but everybody has stuff they do for fun.”
Es was silent as they hopped away. Jackalope crossed the room quickly, cutting them off from the exit. “Nothing at all??” He placed his hands firmly on his hips. “That’s going to change, immediately. You’re coming to spa night tonight.”
They recoiled. “With the prisoners?”
“It’s not like they’re contagious, jeez.”
After a beat of silence, they muttered, “it’s dangerous to get so attached.” Then they tried to scoot past him. “Now. As I said, I’m very busy. If you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend to. This is a prison, after all.”
“Come on, we have plenty of time for that later!” The Warden's pout melted into a smirk as he added, “plus, it wouldn’t hurt to take the night off from the kitchen. I could give it a whirl, eh?”
“Just what are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.”
Jackalope scooped Es from ground. On a crescendo of music, he raised them into the air with a bright laugh.
What if Fuuta had died instead of Mahiru? How would it have come to that, and how would it affect the state of the prison?
Aughh… possibilities that make me insane… Thank you for the prompt, hehe…
TW for discussions of death/grief
While I think there are plenty of ways Fuuta could have died T3 (worsening suicidal thoughts, getting into a fight with 09/10 while injured, going against Amane’s beliefs as much as Shidou), I think the best way to keep the rest of the story accurate would be like this: Shidou starts healing both victims after Kotoko’s attack, but Fuuta starts hanging out with Amane before he can help too much. He ends up spending more time with Mahiru, and is able to get her to a point where she’s weak, but not worsening. Fuuta, having thrown away medicine with Amane, is actively getting worse as his injuries get infected. Once Amane kills Shidou, there’s no one to pick up on signs of infection and take action. While Mahiru continues on the upswing, Fuuta succumbs to his fever.
Though Yuno’s development would be different, I still think Mahiru would have a big impact on her without her actually dying. Life may actually be more hopeful – “I wanted to die before, and still feel incredibly guilty because I was careless with the one thing Mahiru wanted, but we’ll have each other to lean on as we choose to live and find our connections going forward.” Just because she doesn’t cut her hair and act super depressed won’t mean she’s not deeply changed and is willing to speak more grounded with Es.
I think Kazui would get hit with even more angst of uselessness – he already feels guilty about not protecting the ones who died, but there’s something extra painful that the one prisoner he did manage to save died anyway. In his mind, the one good thing he managed to do in prison was undone (also by his negligence). I like to imagine he’d really throw himself into caring for Mahiru as atonement (which Fuuta was too independent to give him the same option in canon), but it’s just as likely that he’ll shut down and isolate himself further…
Even surviving, Mahiru would have it pretty bad, going through a huuuge Love Disillusionment. She would have survivor’s guilt that Fuuta died from his attack wounds but not her. She would understand that Shidou died because he was helping to heal her – his love for her got him killed, just like her bf. Haruka’s situation would remind her of her case as well – a boy who killed himself because of unhealthy love for a girl. I can’t see her rejecting love outright, but she’d have such a significant shift in her worldview, and it would not feel good.
All in all, Amane would have it the worst :( Rather than Fuuta getting his “divine punishment” for going against her, she would be haunted by the fact that he did everything right and still died a painful death. That on its own could kick start her realization that her abuse, too, wasn’t for any logical reason, and she doesn’t need to keep justifying it. The main problem is she’d be left wholly alone. As much as Mahiru would be sympathetic to her, she’s too weak to help much, and Amane would still be avoiding her because of her use of medicine. With no one else willing to humor her religious side, she wouldn’t have anyone there to lean on while she came to terms with her abuse and the blood on her hands. She has to get up every day knowing she killed the one person who was willing to save her…
Thinking about LCSYS some more... A key part of Milgram's T3 is that prisoners have been shaken to their core and changed by the deaths. So how could this be incorporated into LCSYS? Is there some way to make the prisoners believe that their fellow prisoners have died?
I knowwww I didn’t expect them to do mid-trial deaths !! Their growth would be at such different paces now ough…
While it might not be feasible to convince the participants the others died (they either wouldn’t believe it since there’s already so much fake death going around, or would believe it too hard and refuse to continue the trials thinking they need to make funeral arrangements and everything,) I think the closest they can get is a locked-down separation 👀
At some point mid-hiatus, completely out of the blue, Jackalope announces they’re cutting contact. The dead trio is secluded in one wing of the facility, neither group allowed any information or communication with the other. Even though they were aware of the story, the prisoners wouldn’t be prepared for the sudden separation. They’d probably still worry about one another’s health and well-being with Jackalope unable to confirm even “they’re healthy/they’re fine.”
Knowing it’ll be weeks (if not months) until they can see the trio again, the group is plagued with the things they realized too late. Muu starts to notice all the empty spaces Haruka has left, and her excitement at their bond falls. She worries Haruka will be thinking he’s better off gone for all that time, and she can’t tell him how wrong he is. Yuno had come to terms with her admiration of Mahiru, but as soon as they cannot talk, she realizes she’s never once mentioned it to the woman. Amane, too, sees firsthand the gaping hole that Shidou and Mahiru leave, and doubts she rid the world of sinners. She suddenly yearns to have a more civil conversation about the medical treatment. (Same goes for Kotoko’s potential guilt over Mahiru’s death.)
And in all these cases, I think the different situation would help the prisoners come to the same conclusions. Under the torment of verdicts and voices, the canon characters needed a sudden death to snap them out of their old mindset. In this au, however, they have so much extra time to develop friendships and open lines of communication and support. I know it’s not guaranteed to make them all friends like I usually write haha, but I think the opportunity for calm conversation without life-or-death consequences would allow them to very similar self-discoveries.
I am excited to officially announce my project, the Fire Emblem: Beyond Fodlan Prompt Meme! It's a chill AO3 challenge to celebrate Fire Emblem games with fewer numbers of fanworks! If you're interested and want to learn more, check it out here:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
A piece for @luce-speaks 's prompt for the Beyond Fodlan project! A little silliness of Python trying to keep Forsyth from overworking himself with some uncommon methods 🐈⬛ (Including slightly shippy-er post canon hcs for them hehe)
There is nothing in the kingdom that can keep a dedicated knight of the Brotherhood away from his duties, except, perhaps, another knight’s rear end planted stubbornly on top of him.
Python hatched his plan after years of observing Forsyth around the capital. Very few members of the court could resist the city’s many cats (a rumor was even passed around that the King himself arrived late to a conference because of a napping kitten), but Forsyth was one such member. He treated every creature with care and caresses, but his duties always came first. A clock’s strike could spur him into motion within minutes. He would offer a chivalrous explanation to the cat on his lap before gently moving it somewhere equally comfortable.
Children, too, were no match for his diligence. No matter how his eyes gleamed while telling Clive II a story and watching the boy doze off in an adorable heap, awareness of the outstanding task quickly overtook him. With slightly more delay, but nothing that could be considered procrastination, the child would end up expertly passed into another’s’ arms where he could continue snoring.
It was the court’s young adults that received the most leniency from Forsyth. The Ram villagers could be found leaning against him, enjoying his chattering speeches or sharing in a moment of peaceful silence together. On those days, he was reluctant to pull himself away from the “striving, impressionable youth.” He waited as long as his racing mind would allow, then remained for several more minutes of eloquent apologies and promises, then hurried off.
“So you see,” Python told Lukas one afternoon, “there’s a size-to-time correlation going on here. The bigger the body, the longer you can keep him from workin’ himself to death.”
“He must feel more responsible as his fellows grow older. Is the correlation not age?” Lukas sorted through correspondence on his desk, hardly blinking at Python’s unorthodox plan. Not only was he accustomed to the man’s usual antics, but he, too, had noticed Forsyth’s self-increased workload with worry.
“Nah, the old cats get the boot all the same” Python lounged back onto the desk, causing Lukas to shift his pile of paperwork to the side. “Plus, it’s not like Sir Mycen is going to leap to join in…”
“I see.”
“And thus, if I can’t drop a house on the guy to make him sit still, I can at least do the job myself.”
“And you truly think that will help?”
“Of course!” He beamed. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”
The first attempt was a complete failure.
Even before the morning bells rang, Forsyth was up preparing for his first chore of the day. Whether it was helping with renovations in the stables or delivering the latest supply of crates from the gate to the kitchens, it was something that didn’t need doing today, by him. He returned to perch on the end of the bed, completing his morning ritual by reading a few pages of the history book Lukas had given him.
Python slipped his arms around him in a comfortable, perfectly innocent hug from behind. Forsyth hummed absently in greeting. As nonchalantly as possible, Python’s legs wiggled around, wrapping around Forsyth’s hips to complete the secure embrace. Then, he waited.
When Forsyth announced it was time to depart, he put on his hoarsest, most exhausted voice. “Can’t I just stay here? You’re much more comfortable than the bed…”
“I doubt that is true by any accounts.”
“You are! C’mon, can’t I just stay like this? What are you doing anyway?”
“Well, I had to go speak to Lady Clair about some upcoming ambassador business.”
Yet another duty that fell far outside the bounds of a regular knight.
“Exactly – that’s no big deal! We can stay like this all day~”
Forsyth contemplated for a moment. It was a longer pause than he gave any cat or kid. His gleeful, “well, if you’re sure!” had Python grinning at his victory.
Then, the man let out a huff of minor exertion as he stood up from the bed, Python still clinging to him like a rucksack.
“What are you–!”
“I suppose it is just a trip down the hall,” Forsyth mused to himself. He marched out the bedroom door. “No one save Lady Clair shall see you in your bedclothes, and she is quite aware of your lack of professionalism already. I’ll be missing my afternoon workout on account of my audience with the Queen, so this shall be a pleasant replacement.”
“Oi, wait!”
Forsyth continued down the hall, his enthusiasm drowning out Python’s protests. “What a whimsical idea! I have regretted spending less time with you now that my duties have picked up – I’m awfully grateful for the suggestion!”
Python bobbed along on the journey. He let his head slump against the man’s shoulder with a sigh. “Eh, don’t mention it.”
His theory continued hitting setbacks. As it turns out, the muscles that Python loved to whistle at were more than capable of lifting him off of Forsyth’s lap and chest. Even when he did manage to find a solid sitting position, Forsyth had plenty of reading and writing he could finish comfortably.
“You just wait!” He waved a frustrated finger at Lukas, recognizing the type of placid smile that meant he was hiding a second, teasing smile underneath. “There’s no way he can outwit my next strategy.”
His next strategy was the tried and true method of being the biggest pain he could manage. It never failed.
Python marched up to where Forsyth was scrawling out notes at his desk, and sat his rear end directly on his lap. He plucked the pen from Forsyth’s fingers, and slid the pages out of reach.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re clearly doing something!”
“Nope. You and me, we’re doing nothing. For the rest of the afternoon.”
“Pardon?”
Python leaned back, smushing Forsyth into the seat. “You heard me. This is it for the day. You need a break.”
“And that is for you to decide?”
“Yup.”
Forsyth wriggled underneath, trying to push him off. “I’ll have you know, I cannot just clear my schedule on your whims!”
Python released all tension in his muscles so that his dead weight flopped in the way of Forsyth’s escape. “That’s a shame.”
“What shall everyone think of me, when I fail to show for our appointed times?”
“Probably, ‘oh, that Sir Forsyth! He must be taking a break! Fucking finally! I’m so happy for him. And jealous, that he gets to spend all day with that hunk, Python~’”
“They’d offer me their condolences, for that one.”
“Mock me all you want, I’m not budgin’.”
“Python...”
“Nope!”
“Augh.”
Python could hear the annoyance his his breathing for a while, feel the restlessness of his tapping foot. Then he let out a resigned breath. In another few minutes, his arms slumped into a more comfortable position. His head even tipped forward to rest on Python’s shoulder. His chest rose and fell in even, relaxed rhythms.
Without knowing exactly what Forsyth had planned, Python knew it was impossible to imprison him for the entire afternoon. It surprised him when his shifting position didn’t result in Forsyth’s immediate fleeing, no matter how easy it would be now. He was even more bewildered that the man remained an hour, then two, without any more rebuttals. It came as an even greater shock when soft snores rose up from the face pressed into his shoulder.
“Damn, I’m good,” he muttered to himself.
The pair only stirred when Lukas slipped into the room. His eyebrows raised, seeing their intertwined position. Forsyth sputtered out explanations that nothing untoward was happening, while Python’s big thumb’s up conveyed the opposite.
Lukas only chuckled. “Mm, I see Python’s scheming has finally succeeded. Has he been poised like this all day? My condolences...”
aaa do you think you could write a little something about yunos suicidalness (maybe in discussion about how she ended up there) and perhaaapss the others comforting her !!! i believe that yuno deserves all the love and everyone should give her a big hug :33 thank you !!! love LOVE your writing btw <3
Waugh thank you :'))) I'm so emotional over Yuno's mindset... Her reckless behavior, that interro question about only living to 40, her comments to Amane, and then getting such vivid imagery in Life.... (I'm going to write an 02-03 reaction later in my other fics, so) I really wanted to highlight some other prisoner parallels with her situation/mindset <3
Tw for suicidal ideation, and Yuno's view of her abortion
“Here for my psych evaluation, Doc~” Yuno skipped into the room. She curtseyed her legs to sit dramatically in the metal chair. “What do you need to know about? My daddy issues? My bad dreams? Maybe my good dreams~?”
“Kashiki-chan.” Kazui frowned. His eyes creased with worry lines and dark bags. “I told you, this isn’t some therapy thing. I’m just... checking in. One friend to another.”
Forty-year-old men usually liked to check in with her in a very different way – she wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this. She decided to treat it like a little game, trying to figure out what the right answer was. She looked over her nails, each smoothly filed, though all the color had washed away by now. “Right, right.”
“I want to hear how you’re doing.”
“I mean, you and I both have the best innocent streak here – we’ve been sitting pretty~”
Kazui frowned. “Well, lately it seems like you’re afraid to talk about some things.”
She blinked. “Me?”
It was impossible to keep the accusation out of her voice. She didn’t blink nor blush at sexual conversations. She could discuss money with ease. She hadn’t even shied away from discussing her murder, even if others would have been hesitant to call her case such. Meanwhile, Kazui was the one who avoided the majority of conversation topics as if he’d be executed for so much as confessing his favorite color.
Even now, he spoke vaguely. “Things are difficult right now, I know. After everything… the two people who you were closest with… They’re…”
“They died.” She’d show him she could talk about anything.
“The warden told me a little about your life, and that’s extremely serious. Especially for someone your age.”
Everything was especially so, when it came to her age. She rolled her eyes. “People are always looking for a little rush, a little thrill. There’s no need to get weird on me just because I chose sex.”
“People looking for that rush usually go driving fast on highways or doing a sport, not… throwing themselves down stairs.”
Her eyes blazed. How much had Es gossiped about her?
“I. Fell.”
“You didn’t go falling into a crumbling warehouse, or up that rickety stairwell. It wasn’t an accident that your parents didn’t know where you were. And… and we had no idea about Haruka-kun, so I thought…”
“Oooh, I get it.” Did they really think she was so broken that she’d go hurting herself out of the blue? She thought she could trust Es with the truth. It seemed they were no different from overreacting, overprotective world. “You guys don’t want to be taken by surprise again. Well, you don’t have to worry, I’m not going to cause you any trouble.”
“This isn’t about us. We want to make sure you are okay.”
“Oh come on, it’s not like I was popping pills or anything. I got thinking. Is it a crime to think? I got a little looser than I should have. All that emotion made me fall. That’s it.”
“Kashiki -chan…” Kazui paled. His hand stroked down his jaw in anguish. “That counts. The fact that you were up there in the first place… that fact that your thoughts were so heavy… Something like that can easily end up with someone dead.”
“I know it ended up with someone dead,” she snapped, rising to her feet. This little therapy game stopped being fun long ago. “You think I don’t know that?”
She took a step out of the cell, her voice raising. “Is that what everyone thinks of me?”
Yuno wasn’t one with a short temper. She didn’t actually feel like yelling at anyone. She just wanted to blow off a little steam complaining to the thick, prison walls and hopefully dissuade Kazui from dragging the conversation on any longer.
To her surprise, Es emerged from the corridor. They stood with their arms crossed, unamused at her outburst.
“Es-kun… Well, look who finally came to speak to me themself.”
“Is there a problem in here?”
At the sound of both their voices, heads peered out from the cells and hallway doorways. They were all the same. They said they cared, they said they could keep a secret, but all anyone ever wanted was a spectacle to blab about. If they wanted a show, Yuno would give them just that.
“Oh, there’s a problem alright!” She approached, jabbing a finger into Es’ uniform. “If you have something to say to me, say it to my face.”
“I can assure you, I had no intention of sneaking around. I thought a fellow prisoner could broach the topic easier than your warden.”
“Why does the topic need to come up at all? You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Why can’t I? Others’ opinions of you doesn’t cost anything.”
“It always costs me!” Her blood rushed in her ears. “I don’t need you making up tragic tales for me, spreading them around like new, hot gossip.”
“I didn’t fabricate anything myself.” Their brows knit together, but their voice remained set in their bluntness. “I saw inside your heart. I saw what you were thinking. You may not have gone about it in the usual way, but you wanted to die.”
“And what if I do?” She cried. “Or… did? Or…? Why does everyone care what I do!?” Her angry finger pointed around the panopticon. “You let Haruka do it! You basically told him to! You said it was okay that Shidou died! You didn’t do anything to stop Mahiru from dying! You said it was okay that my baby died!” Her hand retreated to swipe the tears that began to fall.
“Yuno…”
She covered her face. “You said it was okay that they died… over and over… you kept telling me it was fine… So why do you care if I do, too?”
Her knees weakened under her, and she sank to the cold ground.
“It was always supposed to be me… It should have been me…”
She kept her face covered as sobs wracked through her chest. It disgusted her that the others were still gawking, but she had no more strength left to fight against this prison and its prying eyes.
There were footsteps, and another figure wrapped her in a full hug. For a split second, the delicate figure and warmth of the embrace brought Yuno back through memories. Then she looked up. Her tears paused, if only at the shock of her comforter.
Muu’s arms held her steady, pulling her into locks of ticklish pink hair as she cried.
Seeing Muu’s efforts, the others stepped forward. Kazui placed a hand on her shoulder, stable and reassuring. Amane gave her a strong look of encouragement. Es came to kneel beside the pair. Muu leaned back, revealing her face was just as watery and lips just as trembly. She stayed huddled to Yuno as Es to took her hand.
The warden inhaled a careful breath. “My verdicts aren’t for your victims, they’re for you. I forgave you because I didn’t want you to blame yourself, to wish any harm on yourself. I didn’t expect you to think the opposite…”
Yuno squeezed their hand. “It’s just… hard. I still want… I…”
“Muu knows how you feel, “she interrupted, saving Yuno from the words that wouldn’t come out. “It was me or her… What if it was supposed to be me? And then… I miss Haruka. So much. I wish… I wish he hadn’t done that. Everyone does.”
Her intense gaze brought out the other meaning of her words. Yuno’s throat was too pinched, she could only offer a teary nod. They leaned back into the hug, the others joining in with a gentle touch.
“And,” she added, her palm rubbing circles into Yuno’s back. “It’s so rude to sit back and watch someone cry. Isn’t Muu nice for helping?”
A surprised laugh escaped her. “Yeah.” Yuno let her herself relax into those around her. “Thank you.”
I couldn't decide between getting really in depth to their mindsets, since it took so long to figure out how Kotoko would ever respond positively to his puppy crush, or staying pretty silly with it, so you get a little of both haha! The first section is a little peek into Kotoko's perspective, while the second is a fully comedic scene touching on the physical attraction side of things... (nothing explicit but it does mention steaminess lol)
For all his insistence that he’d been saved, or changed, or whatever crap it was today, Fuuta was awfully suicidal. Any time not spent with Amane was spent at Kotoko’s side, shoulder-to-shoulder, babbling on, as if he were asking for another boot to the face.
She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t afraid of her. Everyone else watched and whispered wearily, no matter what she was doing. They gave her a wide breadth when she tried to brush her teeth, and struggled to put food on her dinner tray, and collapsed angrily in the common area. Kazui and Amane commented in a way that proved everyone thought she was better off in these horrible restraints.
Yet, Fuuta stupidly remained throughout it all. Kotoko may have been the one in the muzzle, but he trot behind her like a lost puppy. He didn’t seem to care if they bumped shoulders or kicked feet under the table. He offered to share food and games. When she needed help, he put up an act of chivalry to help her – the utter taunting of it all made her sick.
She assumed it was simply another cowardly strategy of his. Just like his so-called religious conversion tried to sway the Warden to forgiveness, his kindness manipulated sympathy from everyone. Kotoko refused to be fooled. She confronted him on it, assuring him she knew his type didn’t change so easily, but he kept up his infuriating smile. He had the gall to agree with her, and compliment her, and then thank her. She could feel a disgust roil in her stomach at such an insane statement.
She knew for sure he’d lost his mind when he continued complimenting her, even when she tried to kill him again.
It happened quickly, as everything did in Milgram. Fuuta had overstayed his welcome in her cell. His niceties piled up, reminding her that he’d lost all respect for her strength. She had to remind him.
Kotoko forced him to the ground – a knee against his chest injuries and her forearms against his windpipe to leave him gasping in pain and desperation. At his angle, her fiery gaze was only inches from his face.
She eased up briefly. Her instincts screamed against it, knowing he could cry for help, but there was something she needed to hear from him.
She didn’t know what she sought from him, but it certainly wasn’t his awed, “how do you do it?”
“What?”
“You still believe in this. In your justice.”
“Of course I do.”
“I-I thought that everyone else in the world was faking it,” he wheezed, unable to keep that big mouth from rambling as usual. “I thought everyone was like me, putting on a tough act. But… the way Amane stands by what she believes in even after the world turned against her… The way you’re willing to fight for your justice, even after being told you’re wrong…”
He took in a shuddering breath. “I need someone stable to look up to, but people like you… you’re just stable, all on your own. It’s inspiring to me. How do you do it?”
She waited for him to say more. To insult the others in comparison, or lament over himself in a manipulative show of emotion. To backpedal that he wasn’t really impressed by her. She realized she’d been waiting for him to admit that he thought she was a monster.
And here he was, trying to tell her that she was one of his heroes.
His good eye searched her face. Though his mouth worked to take in air, he had no intention of speaking. He lay patiently, listening. That familiar discomfort stirred in her gut.
Kotoko grimaced. Her heart raced. “Cowards like you never understand. Saviors have to be strong for the weak. It’s not a choice, it’s who I am.”
“I see… it gives you purpose…”
She’d always seen her work as a grand duty or calling. It sounded so childish to put it like that. “It is my purpose!”
Fuuta smiled, even pinned under her deadly grasp. “I guess that’s how the world stays balanced, huh? The weak and the strong... we need each other.”
“I don’t need you,” she spat, but it was too late. “I don’t need anybody…” Her fire was rapidly sputtering out. Her throat squeezed. She shoved him away, standing up so she could pace her cell like the wild animal he refused to see her as. “I never had anyone, and… and I don’t need anyone now!”
She looked down at him – remaining in place to catch his breath, still not calling to the others or scrambling to escape. Stupid, stupid man.
Kotoko wanted to swing her fists at something. She wanted to kick. She wanted to scream. Instead, she collapsed into the corner of the room, turned away so Fuuta couldn’t see the weakness all over her face.
“I never had anybody –!”
“I know…” Fuuta’s voice was hoarse and hushed. Maybe she was the stupid one after all, because she could have sworn it sounded gentle, too. “I know.”
----------
“Screw this!”
Kotoko swept the pile of playing cards aside. She kicked at the common room chair. “Gonna go blow off some steam,” was all she muttered before leaving the room.
Kazui felt guilty seeing the little outburst. While the others readily helped Muu stay occupied with her restrained hands, everyone gave Kotoko her space. Even Fuuta, who’d started recklessly sitting with her, wasn’t around to help today. Amane had said something about a day of prayer.
It was clear the prisoners even withheld their voices when she was around; a soft chatter rose up after Kotoko’s departure. Everyone returned to their own games and art and reading.
Kazui shook his head at a faint clattering down the hall. If Mikoto’s room was any proof, young people these days had an awfully destructive way of releasing their emotions. It was a good thing their ideas of ‘blowing off steam’ didn’t involve any more broken bones.
The thought lingered in his head for a moment before it settled, nauseating, in his stomach. He realized that was still an entirely viable option for Kotoko.
He leapt to his feet. “Shit. Fuuta.”
The boy had been driving Kotoko near insane from all the time he’d spent with her. He was the only one unaccounted for.
Kazui ran.
Yuno called something down the corridor, but Kazui’s ears were trained on the sounds from the panopticon. Sure enough, cell 003 rumbled with sounds of a scuffle. Fuuta’s voice raised in a sharp, pained cry.
Kazui slammed his shoulder into the door. It was barricaded. “Dammit…”
Kotoko called from inside, her voice breathless and tense. It made his blood run cold. “Don’t interrupt this, old man.”
“Hang in there!” He rammed into the door again, knocking it free.
He burst into the room, his eyes darting around the scene of the crime: Fuuta’s beloved shawl and eye covering ripped off of him and onto the floor, his uniform belts twisted around his wrists, Kotoko poised victorious on top of him. Kazui made it one more step before noticing the flush in both their faces. The clothes’ hems riding up. The way their legs seemed more tangled than pinned.
“………Ah.”
Kotoko slumped back, rolling her eyes. Fuuta swallowed hard.
Kazui glanced down at him, looking like he was about to die on the spot – and not from any sudden injury. He turned his gaze away in respect. “So… uh… you’re all good?”
“Yup,” came the squeaked reply.
“R-right. Well, then.” He backed awkwardly through the door, pulling it gently closed. “I suppose I’ll. Um. Leave you kids to it.”
It clicked shut just as another sound registered in his ears. He turned to find Amane running full speed toward him. “Is Fuuta-san okay?”
Yuno trailed behind, unable to stop her.
“Yes.” Kazui rubbed the back of his neck “He’s just fine.”
Yuno muttered, “more than fine, I’ll bet.”
“Kashiki-chan…” he warned. Then, blinking, “you knew?”
Amane looked up at Yuno. “Knew what? What is he doing in there?”
“He’s not in any trouble,” Kazui assured her. “He and Kotoko are just… spending some time… together...”
Thankfully, she took him at his word. She accepted Yuno’s offered hand, allowing her to lead them both back to the common room.
“Is something still wrong?” Yuno asked.
“Hmph. Fuuta-san is disobeying direct instructions for today. There’s no time for hanging out. He should be worshipping.”
Can you assign the prisoners and Es to Fire Emblem classes?
Aw hell yeah!!! This was so fun to think about, and now I’m yearning for an fe army of just these disasters asdfasdf. I wanted to keep it all focused on Echoes, but there were just so many good classes from Awakening/Fates, sorry 😅 I’m also indecisive so a few of them have multiple options…
Haruka: I think when you recruit him he’d still be a villager, unsure of what he wants to do with his future. He’d promote to a soldier, something that doesn’t need a lot of finesse but can hit pretty damn hard.
Yuno: Mercenary – give her a swoooord :D I think she’d have the finesse to be good with a blade, she reads people well enough to understand her opponents, and, as the name implies, she’s getting paid for it all 😎
Fuuta: Mage, and I’m picturing the awakening/fates systems where he can actually have some firepower hehe. He can stand back from a distance and let his emotions give him power. (Okay but. Also. Completely genuinely, I think he’d make an excellent Dancer. Fairly weak, so he instead encourages others to do the actual attacking for him.)
Muu: Aw, I can see her as a Pegasus Knight! She commands attention and leadership from up in the sky, looks the most beautiful doing it, and also can pull back real quick when things get too scary.
Shidou: We all know he’s a Cleric adfsdf, but specifically I see him as a Troubadour. He seems skilled enough to ride a horse, and can use things like Nosferatu that heals at the same time it’s dealing damage…
Mahiru: (She’d also make a good nonviolent Cleric,) but I think Dancer suits her the best as someone who’s always cheering others on and encouraging them to do their thing! If we are letting her be violent, I think she should have a whole cupid-archer thing going on 👀 And I never had any of the DLCs but of course I’d make her a bride the second I could ;-;
Kazui: Manakete – something something about hiding his “true self” except that just means he’s a green dragon lmao. He’d also make a good thief, staying under the radar while he makes his way around the map.
Amane: Priestess! She's devout, she can heal, but we also gave her a sword :3 She’s the only other one I can picture being good enough with animals, so I think she could also make a great mounted unit too (horse, pegasus, wyvern)!
Mikoto/John: War Cleric who is just a normal guy who heals people :) Nothing to see here :) …and if he feels threatened he also has an axe 😎👍 I think making him a transformation class that represents his switching would be interesting too: Mikoto is the weaker human form, and John is the dragon/wolf/beast/etc that actually deals the damage to protect them.
Kotoko: Wolfskin. Yeah. Though aside from the easy answer, she’d make a good tank class like Soldier/Knight!
Es: I really do think Lord/Princess would suit them well, but if that’s cheating since they’re the mc, then I’ll keep on cheating and say Tactician :3 Can use both magic and blades, and has an easier time understanding (bonding with) their teammates.
Jackalope: Version of a transformation class who uses his beaststone to turn into a Jackalope :3 In reality he’d be big enough to pose a threat, but I liked the image of him transforming just to become really tiny 😅
Milgram timeline reference I made up to help me keep the dates straight in my head lol. I chose specific dates -- birthdays, possible crime dates, the start of milgram irl, and today -- to compare how old characters would be then. The +/- marks the discrepancy between how old we thought they were then, and how old they actually would have been. (I know we have a few guessed bdays for Es, but I'm only counting the year based on the comments during Confessions of a Mask.)
Month/day and day/month format:
I didn't include the version showing the years-since-death because I felt like it wasn't actually helpful, but if you liked that one just let me know!
Yayyy @milgram-girls-zine is releasing free this weekend on the 16th, please check it out!! I was super excited to be a part of it -- everyone has such beautiful work 🥰💖 For now, posting the opening to my 02-06 idol au piece, Playing Second Fiddle to the Sixth Singer
“Hey, Mahiru-san! Are you…” Yuno’s voice faltered, finding her friend cross-legged in the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles. A long robe pooled around her. Dark goo obscured her face. “…summoning a demon…?”
Mahiru peeked an eye open. “Yuno-chan! Look at this!”
It was impossible not to look.
“I’ve found a new article on meditation and mindfulness! I wanted to give it a try – I haven’t seen one like this before.”
Yuno could guess why.
“Come in, come in!”
As she stepped into the dressing room, a cough escaped her. The intense clash of fragrances from the colorful candles choked up her throat. “Uh, how many scents do you have there…?”
“All of them!” Mahiru sang. “I couldn’t decide which one I liked the best, so I just lit them all~”
“I see…” Yuno preferred her fragrances minimal and mundane – even her expensive perfumes couldn’t compare to things like fresh sheets or cigarette smoke. She inhaled the latter sparingly, now that she stopped selling her body and started selling her voice instead.
Despite Mahiru’s passionate speech that they weren’t selling themselves at all – “an idol gifts their love to the world through the most powerful medium of them all!” or something like that – Yuno didn’t think it mattered either way. This sudden career change gave her and Yura a whole new life. Receiving after giving was important, no matter how the public looked down their nose at it.
“The girls are ready, so I just wanted to…” tell you I’m abandoning you. “…Check in. We’re on in twenty.”
One escaping an arranged marriage, another escaping the law~
Yeah ;---; At first I thought about doing something more canon compliant and just paralleling both running in their own directions, but why not play around with a little speculation? What if Kotoko escaped through the very same woods? What if she got to know Mahiru without the mess of verdicts looming over them? What if Mappi could fix her? Haha, I had fun imagining what a bizarre first impression they'd have on each other!
There were no such things as ghosts. Kotoko crept through the woods, far from any sign of civilization, and repeated the statement to herself as she followed the sound of a woman’s wailing from the lake up ahead.
The cover of night helped, but Kotoko still lowered her stance as she approached the tree line. She couldn’t take any chances at being spotted, especially by the pale, windswept woman wading through the water. There were no such things as ghosts. The moonlight shone on her bare skin as she sank into the depths of the water. She walked peacefully, dipping under the rippling surface. There were no such things as ghosts.
The woman emerged, this time lifting something with her – a purple cardigan. This was merely someone washing her clothes in a very real, very alive manner. Kotoko released a long exhale.
It would be dangerous to drop her guard, still. It had been days without any sign of human life. No matter how tangible this newcomer was, no sane person ventured this deep into the wilderness to do their laundry in the dead of night.
Kotoko continued watching from a distance, trying to discern any other signs of madness. The woman finished her washing, and redressed in the wrung-out clothes on the lakebed. She made her way back to a campsite, which consisted of a few supplies and smoldering coals. All the while, she continued her crying. It was something deep and full of grief that only ceased when Kotoko revealed herself from the foliage.
The stranger leapt to her feet. She wiped a wrinkled sleeve over her face. “Who-who are you?”
Kotoko felt entitled to the question as well. “I’m… from the city.” She wouldn’t give her name, nor her real reason for running from there. Even strange ghost-women of the woods could be connected back to that criminal bloodline somehow – she could turn Kotoko in the first chance she got.
The woman didn’t seem to notice the lack of an introduction. She simply shook her head in horror. “I’m not going back there! You can’t make me! I promised him – W-we –” She hiccupped. A fresh sob jolted through her body.
“I’m not here for you.”
Kotoko studied her, shivering and shaking and scared. The words came tumbling out before she could scold herself for the mistake “It’s probably smart to stick together for a while. You’ll be safe with me. You can call me Yuzuriha.”
If this woman was also expecting someone to venture out here to track her down, maybe she and Kotoko weren’t so different. Perhaps they were both on the run from a dangerous criminal. Just two misunderstood heroes, trying to make it out in the wilderness.
The theory was immediately proven wrong, as the other gushed out her whole life’s story.
“Oh thank you, thank you! I’m Mahiru – Shiina Mahiru. I came from Ashiya, with my lover. We were running away. I was to be married to someone else. I tried, but, my family... they have so much sway, so there was no other way to get out of it! You understand, right? We left. But then he… he…” She pressed her lips together.
“I’m sorry.”
It came as no surprise that this spontaneous pair underestimated the sheer danger of the wild. It could have been poisoning with so little options for food, or perhaps he’d tumbled down one of the steep cliffsides, or worst of all, an animal attack. Most ordinary people couldn’t handle the sight of so much blood.
Her stomach turned at her own memories.
“You could have just skipped town,” she said. “Why come way out here?”
“My family would have found us. They almost did, even here.”
Sifting through her memories, Kotoko did recall a Shiina family with decent money and influence over their part of Hyogo. She was forced to hide her disappointment at the recollection. She’d already offered to stay together – how was she going to guide someone so sheltered and frail out of a place like this? It was going to be enough of a pain to share her dwindling rations with a rich girl.
She exhaled. “Right. Now, listen. I have a bit more food, but I according to my plan I wasn’t going to eat tonight. I was thinking –”
“Oh, Mahiru has food!”
Kotoko frowned. “I didn’t see any edible fruits around. Are you sure it’s safe…?”
“Not fruit, meat. At least, I think mice are safe to eat?”
“Well, it depends on how long it’s been dead for.”
“They were caught earlier today.” She made a concerning gesture with her hands, reenacting the memory with glee.
Kotoko’s eyebrows shot up. “You… caught mice?”
“Is that bad?”
“No! No. I just… didn’t expect that.” After all, Mahiru was a whole head shorter, with a body more suited to magazine modeling than predator-hunting.
“Bring them here, I’ll see what we can do.”
---
“Mahiru need to tell you something!” The woman threw herself onto the ground, her nails digging through the dirt and moss. “I’m sorry!”
Kotoko’s eyes narrowed. Mahiru had grown quieter the closer they got to rejoining civilization. They were nearly free, but any mishap could still prove deadly. Kotoko may have picked up on the souring mood, but she was surprised that Mahiru would make a mistake in the first place.
She’d proven herself as the perfect survivalist, boasting a range of skills such as mending, cooking, and hygiene. She had made their journey far more comfortable than Kotoko had planned. Despite the designer fabrics of her clothes and remnants of nail polish on her hands, she didn’t shy away from mud nor blood. Though her nonstop chatter could inspire Kotoko to tear her hair out, it was a small price to pay for her otherwise meticulous attention to detail.
Kotoko scanned the supplies Mahiru was carrying for any signs of damage or sabotage.
“What did you do?”
“I… I lied. I can’t go with you when you leave.”
“To town? I told you, we’ll stay under the radar. I know how to steer clear of your family.”
“Not my family. You won't want to be around Mahiru.” She bowed her head, preparing herself to deliver the news. “I’m a murderer, Yuzuriha-chan!”
“Wha—”
“My lover! He—he didn’t just die. He killed himself, because of me!” Her voice pitched in anguish. “Because I dragged him out here and had no idea he couldn’t take any more! I was a horrible girlfriend, and a criminal! And I’m sorry for keeping this from you for so long. I… I was scared, and ashamed… but I just can’t bear it any longer!”
She sucked in a breath, trembling and hiccupping in her anguish.
Kotoko crossed her arms. She looked down her nose at Mahiru. “Is that all?” Rich people could be so dramatic.
“Is that – Eh? You’ve been traveling through the woods with a killer! Don’t you hate me?”
She rolled her eyes. “First of all, that’s not even murder. If he killed himself, you’re not liable in any local jurisdictions. There was no coercion or neglect, either. People commit suicide without people noticing the signs all the time.”
Mahiru chewed her lip at the bluntness, but at least seemed to be mulling over the idea.
“And, even if you really killed him…” Kotoko turned back to the path. “Why did you think I’m out here? I certainly don’t have any suitors lining up at my door I need to run from.”
Mahiru gaped, still sprawled on the forest floor, before leaping to her feet to catch up with Kotoko.
“Y-you?”
“He was a monster who got everything that was coming to him. I was waiting to tell you in case you had connections back to him. His family is also very influential. But it looks like we’re both ready to start fresh.”
Kotoko waited for the disgust to settle over Mahiru’s expression. The horror that she was the one traveling with a killer all this time. The fear, and panic to be so close to someone capable of taking a life.
Instead, Mahiru threaded her arms around one of hers. She leaned her head on Kotoko’s shoulder.
“It really is a miracle you found me, then!”
“Eh?”
“We’re the same! Nobody else would understand. A runaway, a killer... But you do, Yuzuriha-chan. It must be fate we found each other! Like a fairy tale!”
“That’s certainly an interesting way of looking at it.”
“So you really don’t hate Mahiru? You really want to start fresh with together?”
The original plan was to separate soon after settling down in town, but Mahiru’s tone insinuated they would be glued to each other from then on. Kotoko opened her mouth, one of her harsh protests caught in her throat, then closed it again.
If Mahiru was as good a housemate as she was a camping partner, there was no need to rush their parting. Plus, a weakling like her wouldn’t take two abrupt separations very well. It was up to Kotoko to protect her for a little longer.
She leaned her head back as the two continued out of the woods.
