but a year back i was fwb with a guy, and i don't know what happens to me but i discovered i like biting😭 the guy like tries to accept it but rejects it most of the time cuz my bites tend to bruise so seeing caleb having bite marks is like...
idk kinda makes me feel better knowing hE'D LIKE IT IF IM LIKE ALLOVER HIM AUGHEJDII3KC AUH🤸♀️ im not normal abt him
funniest shit was that the chest is what i aim for in biting alongside the arm😭 even the waist bro like it's crazy out here
but a year back i was fwb with a guy, and i don't know what happens to me but i discovered i like biting😭 the guy like tries to accept it but rejects it most of the time cuz my bites tend to bruise so seeing caleb having bite marks is like...
idk kinda makes me feel better knowing hE'D LIKE IT IF IM LIKE ALLOVER HIM AUGHEJDII3KC AUH🤸♀️ im not normal abt him
funniest shit was that the chest is what i aim for in biting alongside the arm😭 even the waist bro like it's crazy out here
✦ ┊ song and dance competition with neige leblanche.
what to know ┊ this contains light swearing, implication of unrequited love, manipulation, slight yandere behavior, book 5 spoilers, and all that goes along with it.
parts ┊ part one, part two (you are here), part three, part four, and headcanons
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“Neige broke the school rules for what?”
It was a rumor that spread around Royal Sword Academy, merely a few days before the cultural fair known as Song and Dance Competition where Neige and the seven dwarves would be participating in.
Neige, the overly kind actor, suddenly—according to the rumors—rebelled against the rules of the academy by using a broom during practice for the cultural fair to fly outside the academy to save Night Raven College’s students.
It was not unusual for him to break the school rules since there were incidents where he would help other students and unknowingly go against the rules for them; he would apologize and everything would be in the past.
“I heard they had the fight on camera,” a student whispered, referring to a floating camera paparazzis set up to capture any little information about the artist. “But it was deleted world-wide…”
“Dear merciful seven, Ortho, thank you so much!” you exclaimed as you felt your heart stop racing, your face going near the floating screen, seeing the complete progress of deletion of a certain video. “I was about to start crying.”
“Yeah, Vil drilled on us for a long time…” Deuce responded and Epel nodded beside you. “We owe you one, Ortho.”
“You did promise to help my brother grind on his account so he can focus on preparing for his presentation,” the humanoid said, pointing at you, who nodded profusely with gratitude. “Brother said he’d even hack into the gadgets of those who still have the video if you do well.”
Epel had gotten extremely upset at one point that he left the scene, while he was walking, Deuce borrowed a blastcycle from an Ignihyde student and picked up Epel to drive him somewhere, and out of concern, you tagged along.
Who was supposed to know that there would be thugs there? Your instinct was to call someone close and famous—Neige LeBlanche—but you didn’t also know that he was popular to the point of being stalked whenever he’s outside the campus’ protection.
“You got the most earful, prefect,” Deuce sighed. “Who knew he would ask you on a date after that and it was caught on camera?”
“He just wanted to have a few hours of my time after the competition, it’s not a date,” you said, acting like you did not spend the hours overthinking what he wanted from you. “Perhaps a tour at the academy.”
Epel grimaced, “He’ll only be coming over at Night Raven College once, he doesn’t need to be toured around.”
“And you didn’t really owe him anything,” Deuce said. “I think I developed my unique magic and I planned on using it, if he didn’t arrive, I would’ve knocked ‘em out so we can escape still!”
“I’m a third year and I was the most useless of all,” you muttered, groaning internally as Ortho moved to pat your back gently, but the coldness of the materials used on his palm seeped through your clothes and it made you uncomfortable. “Thanks, Ortho…”
“Still, I think Vil-san is grateful that you didn’t let us act… violent,” Epel said even though he hated the thought of not being able to do anything during that situation and let Deuce take almost everything.
“Yo! Break time’s done, Vil’s calling everyone to go back to practice.”
“Oh, thank you again, Ortho. I’ll come by your dorm after practice so I can start grinding.”
“Nice to meet you and bye, Ortho!”
“Is something wrong, Rook?”
“I wish I was you.”
“What?”
“Moi?”
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On the day of the fair, you had to stop your racing heart and mind from trying to distract you from what the fair artist would want to give you, because you had to put your focus on Trey and Riddle was trying to explain to you.
Riddle had you pause for a moment since you commented that you liked the way his tie was tied, prompting him to attempt to do it on your collar and you felt a little happy—happily distracted from what Neige wanted to ask from you.
“We’ve got a lot of visitors from Royal Sword Academy this year,” Trey said and you nodded, your chin hitting Riddle’s hand, prompting him to destroy the ribbon he was making and you sent an apologetic gaze.
“I’ll try to look around too, I’ll try selling my ticket—”
“The others would be sad to know that ‘ya weren't there, ya’know?”
“I’ve been with you all for two months,” you said in your defense, but a part of you was curious about the contestants. “The campus is filled with hot headed students, had it not been for Leona, I would’ve gotten bullied for the nth time, and most students actually dislike Royal Sword—”
— W H A M !
“Hey, punk. You’ve got snot all over my uniform. You’re not even gonna apologize?”
“I said I was sorry… A... Achoo!”
“Ewww! He sent more snot flyin’ our way!”
“By accent, you’d know it’s a NRC student,” you mumbled as RIddle stopped trying to tie your tie since he had to check on the incident. “Oh… Is that…?”
“Snick! Here, blow your nose.”
“Dominic!” you called as Riddle released you so you can head over to the dwarves. “How are you all here—”
“[name]-san,” the short gray-haired dwarf said, looking surprised, but he had to look away to apologize to the Night Raven College students Snicked bumped into. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your uniforms.”
“You bet you will,” A student said and then at you. “Would ‘ya look at here—”
“Yes?” Riddle steps in, looking a little irked at the possibility of physical altercations happening on the campus on the very first day of the fair. “The culture fair has barely opened its doors, and picking fights is not a choice here.”
“Tsk.”
“How basic…” you muttered as you watched the students walk away upon being busted by the prefect of Heartslabyul. “Your reputation really goes around, Riddle… but are you guys okay, Dominic?”
“Thanks for the help,” Dominic says as he smiles at you, Grim, and the Heartslabyul students beside you. “As you can see…”
“Yeah, whatever, I coulda taken those guys with or without your help,” a pinkish haired dwarf grumbled, looking and most likely feeling ungrateful.
“Grum! Must you do this every time?” Dominic asked, his tone a little scolding as you felt a little uncomfortable with the slight bratty attitude from Grum. “Neige won’t be happy to hear you’re talking like that to [name]-san.”
“[name]—” Grum stuttered as you blinked, confused.
“Oh…!” Snick said, his voice sounding a little muffled.
“By the way, why are you all here?” you asked as Trey watched from behind. “This is far from the purple stage… or the lockers for the people involved in the competition.”
“Oh, yes, have you seen four other dwarves?” Dominic asked and Riddle shaked his head.
“I’m afraid not, would you like me to have the broadcast club page them?”
“I can help look,” you volunteered just before you felt a presence by your head that caused shivers up your spine.
“Oh, how ameowzing, to meet the talk of Royal Sword Academy~”
Grim purred quite loudly before exclaiming, “A floating severed head!”
“Che’nya…” you muttered as a hand went up to your forehead.
“Che’nya!?” the Heartslabyul prefect and vice exclaimed.
“Heh heh heh, is he a human? Is he a cat? He’s a mysterious and magical fellow,” the half-cat creature said with a grin. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker! Thaaat’s me!”
“Artemiy, have you seen the rest of the dwarves?” you asked before you remembered his words. “What do you mean I’m the talk of your school?”
“Surely you’ve known,” Dominic says, wanting to explain, but his friends were missing. “Long story short, the video. Che’nya could explain.”
“Oh no…” you muttered, wanting to hide your face from the world and you looked down to do just that, but you noticed your disarrayed tie. “Oh, Riddle, could you…?”
Your focus flew quickly as Chenya said, “If you’re on the purrowl for your friends, I saw ‘em go that way and around the corner.”
“Thanks a bunch, if you’ll excuse us, [name] and NIght Raven College students,” Dominic said as you waved, smiling as Riddle moved to fix your tie, and Dominic’s smile fell a little, so did the other dwarves.
“Is something wrong?” you muttered.
“See ya around!” Aritemy bid the dwarves on their way. “Furtionately, the video was taken down.”
“Nice to see you, Che’nya,” Riddle says, pausing on your tie first. “I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I apologize for neglecting to get back to you.”
“About the video…?” Trey asked.
“As Aritemy said, fortunately, I had it taken down by Ortho,” you said as Riddle finished up quickly on your tie and you paused, getting a little distracted. “Oh, I’m coquette.”
You didn’t mean it seriously. Che’nya continued, “Y’know NRC students got in a fight near our school? They were recorded and Neige dropped by to save them and it ended with Neige asking [name] on a da—”
“It was a misunderstanding,” you cut in before you felt like you were rude for doing so. “I’m sorry Aritemy, I don’t mean to be rude, but everyone—this is just justification at this point—but everyone has been calling it a date.”
“A date?” Trey asked as Riddle’s eyes only widened a little. “But you said the video was taken down? For your privacy, [name], that’s good news. And for us, mind if we catch up later instead?”
“Certainly! I’ll get outta your hair!”
“And Che’nya, don’t use your signature spell to spook any other visitors, okay?”
“No promises~”
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“That [name] doesn’t really stick out,” Grum muttered as he walked with the others to the dressing room, his hand being held by another dwarf to avoid getting lost. “They seem bland for Neige.”
“You met…?” a cheerful dwarf asked, eyes gleaming. “Oh! I wish I hadn’t gotten lost!”
“Grum, had it not been for [name]-san, we would’ve engaged in a fight,” Dominic said as he led the group of dwarves to the dressing room. “What Neige saw in [name]-san is not our business, and [name]-san is incredibly nice.”
“You saw [name]?”
“Oh, Neige!” Snick chimed before looking away to sneeze again, prompting Dominic to sigh and hand him a handkerchief. “They helped us earlier!”
“Do you remember where they were?” Neige asked, helping Snick wipe his nose but promptly pulled away to look outside the dressing room for [name]’s presence. “I…”
A dark feeling washed over him; it felt unfair for them to be able to see you first before he did when he arrived first to the dressing room, expecting you to be near Night Raven College’s side on the team.
It felt so unfair. He was the one who missed you the most, he thought. His rosy lips pressed on each other softly then he’d bite on a tiny part of his bottom lip as he looked for you outside the stage.
“Neige?” Dominic asked, concerned over his friend’s well-being.
Neige had been over the moon ever since he ‘saved’ you from those thugs even if you were with other people; he was a fan to the flames of rumors about him asking you on a date because he liked the thought of it.
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were extremely supportive about it too.
There’s a few Night Raven College students nearby and they were talking, some of them looked happy to receive the attention of the reporters and some of them are getting nervous about it.
There’s a ginger who was a little nervous yet tried to make a rational decision, and the main of the team, Vil Schoeheit—Neige hasn’t met him in a while—but that must be your team, he could find you through them.
“[name]!” Neige chimed.
“Where!?”
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were insanely curious.
“Neige…” the actor said as Neige cuts in the middle of the talk of their team with a smile and wave towards the members, but ultimately going to you.
“Oh, Neige,” you smiled politely, but you were not comfortable with him walking up to you and focusing on you, especially after that one viral video. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s been forever!” he smiled, more than you did, without a care in the world, unlike you. “I should’ve told you to wait for me in the gate, you haven’t been responding to me, you promised me your time—”
“So that’s Neige LeBlanche…” Ace muttered. “No wonder he’s a household name, even the way he walks and talks is perfectly choreographed.”
“He’s not giving off the intense aura Vil has…” Kalim whispers.
“His smile is entirely unlike Vil’s. It is unaffected, like a tiny flower blooming—it’s different! Oui! The cameras better take this in all angles! And first-name basis!?”
“Hmph, the more innocuous someone looks, the worse they’re likely to act behind the scenes,” Jamil huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s how entertainers are.”
“Do you have any room to talk there?” Grim whispered before he frowned when Neige took your hand. “I don’t like this! Why is he all up on [name]!?”
“Oooh, I mean ‘ya can’t expect Grim to know, he doesn’t really have a phone,” Epel says, sighing. “Or [name] limits you to screentime?”
“—I missed you!” Neige exclaims after the long speech about what he should’ve said and done so you and him would meet sooner. “While we’re here we should have others take our picture—”
“Excuse me, Night Raven College entrants! It’s time for your rehearsal. Please stand by!”
“I really… really appreciate your words, Neige,” you whisper, not wanting anyone to know what you were telling him. “It’s quite hard to miss you when you occupy my mind a lot, you know?”
You wanted to let him down a little, and not tell him he occupied most of your time during practice due to his constant texts, that you couldn’t say to tone it down, and as for your lack of responses, it was because you put it on silent mode for Riddle and Trey.
Neige froze and your arm flinched ever so slightly when his grip on your hand tightened. He stuttered, “Me—me too! To you…!”
“If you’ll excuse our manager, Neige,” Vil cuts in and places a hand on your shoulder, gently. “We need them for the rehearsal.”
“Oh, right, sorry, Neige,” you say, embarrassed since you took a bit too long in trying to shoo Neige away for the rehearsal. “Perhaps later.”
“Later—okay!” the artist accepted it so quickly and he nodded. “I’m looking forward to your performance!”
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The first years were confident, but you, Vil, and possibly Rook would know that the team had been outplayed by the performance of Royal Sword Academy, whose performance was not in synchronized.
It was a different type of charisma, and you didn’t wish that Neige would lose but you didn’t want your team to lose either, especially not when Vil’s sanity thread was thinning.
“Vil…?” you whispered as you walked with the model, trying to catch up, but scared to hold his arm. “Vil.”
It’s not that you and him were strangers, it was just that his vibe felt different—unapproachable—and you wanted to know why without further triggering the seemingly trance he was in.
Vil paused in front of someone’s dressing room, but turned to you, who was confused. To him, he was confused about you, he discreetly confided in you, and he knew you picked up on the depth of his dislike towards Neige but you still got involved with him.
“You should go back,” he said, a bottle of juice in his hand and you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong with the bottle he was holding.
“Of course, but…” you said, trying to make up with an excuse on the spot without telling Vil straight up that you felt like you currently couldn’t trust him to be alone. “Neige was kind of… calling me over.”
It was a lie. Neige did want to talk to you, but there’s no specified date and time.
Your heart pounded as Vil right now felt dangerous for you, every bit of him felt off for you, and it wasn’t the same as when you found him intimidating when you two first met and started talking.
“I see, so you’re with Neige too,” the actor muttered and now you tried to get close, but the door to the dressing room opened on its own and you paused.
“Oh, Vi,” Neige’s head peeked out of the door, his gaze going to Vil and then to you, his eyes brightened visibly, much to Vil’s dismay. “Oh! [name]-san…! It’s good to see you again—do you want to come in?”
“Ah…” you muttered and you smiled a little, albeit awkwardly as you glanced at Vil to check and then at the ominous bottle. “Of cour—”
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk before rehearsals,” Vil cuts in and you swore you saw Neige flinch back a little when the actor covered your frame. “I was hoping we might chat a bit more.”
“Oh, of course,” Neige said as he stepped out of the dressing room. “I was thinking the same thing, why don’t you two come in—”
“Vil, the rest might be looking for us,” you said, hoping to convince Vil to drop what he might be planning as you gently pinched his sleeve, not wanting to cause a fold. “Even if there’s time—”
As soon as you touched Vil’s sleeve, Neige’s hand clasped around your wrist, and he didn’t seem to mind, he just smiled at you, adding up to your burdens since you felt like something was awfully wrong and Neige wasn’t helping.
“It’s okay! You can stay,” Neige said, trying to convince you and Vil, but mostly Vil since you seem to be following the actor around. “Dominic and the others aren’t around, they can’t really sit still so they’re at the booths. We have a lot of time to talk and I… I have something for you.”
You did not know what to say, because you needed to get Vil away from Neige as soon as you could, not only for Neige’s safety, but also for Vil; you can’t wreck your brain how else you could take Vil away when Neige was clinging.
It was not that you didn’t appreciate that the artist was so open to your presence and would always make you feel welcomed, but the situation was quite dire and having Vil approach Neige right after their performance felt so wrong.
“Speaking of something, I have something for you, Neige,” Vil says, holding you by the other arm causing you to look at Vil with concern. “I brought you some apple juice. I’ve been quite taken with this brand recently.”
“Oh! The one you posted about in Magicam!” Neige says, but his eyes were quick to look at the bottle since his eyes immediately went down on Vil’s hand on your arm. “I’ve been waiting to try it… thank you.”
“I—I’ll hold it,” you cut in but you can’t take the bottle when Neige’s hand is tightly on your arm and Vil has the other. “Since Neige and I will talk anyways…”
You looked over at Neige, hoping he would catch on your words and take you away; the glint in his eyes told you he did and the way he moved to wrap his hands on your arm seemed like he was going to take you away.
You were so wrong. He took the bottle and said, “Ah! Yes, we’re going to talk! Are you thirsty, [name]? Do you mind if we share the drink?”
All that was on Neige’s mind was an indirect kiss that happened in movies that he starred in, long filmings that he was in, and he was not the main character of those movies, but he watched people do it.
He watched people get giddy over it and didn’t understand it until now. He wanted to have your lips on his even if it comes from items, even better if it came directly from the source: you.
Your face nearly displayed a horrified expression upon his words, because his words meant you’d have to drink it first and the drink was the item you were most suspicious about.
“I…” you gulped.
You didn’t want Vil to find out you might’ve caught up to what he might be doing, and you didn’t want Neige to know what Vil was doing, because as far as you know they both knew each other and Neige genuinely liked Vil.
This was what you get for looking at both sides. You became the sacrifice and you didn’t know if you minded or not, because you cared less about what happened to you, more on the consequences.
“Should I drink first?” Neige asked. “But I…”
To Neige’s point of view, if he drinks first, you might avoid the place where he drank at and he would miss the opportunity to drink again if you chug the entire drink, he’s not sure if you would or wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to miss the chance.
You took too long and Vil might get suspicious. You grabbed the uncapped drink, much to Vil’s surprise that he released your hand as you said, “No, it’s okay, I can take it first…”
When you saw Vil surprised, it was the validation you needed that your instincts were correct and that something was wrong.
There were small traces of mist coming out; if it were a cold drink, you’d assume it was from the coldness, but the drink was quite lukewarm.
You’ve witnessed Vil’s unique magic, you learned that he can put any rules or conditions that he can’t even reverse, and you weren’t sure what the condition of the drink was, but there you were, placing the rim on your bottom lip.
“Henchman!”
Grim suddenly jumped on your arm and caused the bottle to fall down because you didn’t want to drink it in the first place, and at the same time, you see Rook and Kalim on their way.
You held Grim properly in your arms before you grabbed Neige by the arm, wrapping your arm over his and then you led him away so he wouldn’t see the drink bubbling on the ground.
Your heart was at your ears, you can’t let Neige find out about Vil, because if it goes public, Vil’s reputation would die—you felt incredibly stressed and Grim was stimulating you more by shoving his paws on your chin and asking what was going on.
It was such a huge difference compared to Neige, who happily clung to your arm with his head on your shoulders, speechless by how you apparently ‘whisked’ him away like that, and you only snapped out of your trance when Jamil waved you over.
“Excuse me, you’re Neige LeBlanche, yes?” Jamil asked and Neige was even hesitant to open his eyes to look at him because he was comfortable on your shoulder. “I’m such a huge fan! I can’t believe I met you in person—and [name]... is this your… lover?”
Your jaw dropped at Jamil’s words as Grim exclaimed, “MYAH—”
“Oh! It’s not like that, but I appreciate your—”
Neige only wanted to look Jamil in the eyes in order to memorize his features since he was a Night Raven College student and seemingly your friend, but he was easily hypnotized by Jamil and you rubbed your forehead.
“Thanks for the save,” you whispered. “I’ll gaslight him later.”
A lot of things happened and Neige still couldn’t even read the room, you hesitate, wondering if it was right to keep such a person on your side, even Kalim could read the room better than Neige could.
You let out a breath as Jamil ordered Neige to sing and dance away from the entire coliseum; you have no idea where Neige would go, but hopefully, it would be far away from the purple stage—and you hoped he would leave quickly since the skies started to darken as a symbol Vil was overblotting.
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When others waited for Vil to wake up, you had to sit and try not to think too much because of the constant happenings all within one hour; it didn’t feel right to blame Neige.
It didn’t feel right to blame Neige for the castings of the movies, and that he was always chosen as a hero when Vil was always chosen as a villain and was compared to how Neige presents himself.
You couldn’t help but think that Neige was ignorant, and at the same time, you also thought about the possibilities Neige went through as a person and artist with all that ignorance and naivety.
And what’s up with Neige? He has no danger sensors, but Vil was a good actor so it could be quite impossible to know he had malicious intentions and you only knew because you were with him before the incident.
“Should I be happy I got you thinking?” Vil asked. “Did you know what the condition was?”
He was being supported by Rook and the other dancers were trying to figure out how to fix the colosseum; Vil was not exactly happy, he remembered the way the drink’s rim was in your mouth and had it not been for Grim, who knew what could happen to you?
You shake your head and that didn’t make Vil feel any better—not that he ever will be since you still nearly drank it.
“I thought it was fine,” you muttered, sighing. “Rook would’ve done the same.”
“You would?”
“Oui, I would want to believe in you, the you who strives harder and reaches for greater heights than any other. I don’t want you to besmirch yourself by doing anything foolish.”
“I just happen to feel the same,” you muttered, even though you hesitated. “I don’t want your reputation to be ruined, Vil. I’ll carry your poison to my grave.”
“You’ve barely been here for a year,” Vil said and you’re reminded by your supposed home in a world different from where you currently sat. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.”
“I would, if it helps,” you laughed a little, unable to handle the serious moment, especially when the tension was crushing you a little. “I’d forgive you, Vil, I really… believe you are a kind person.”
In a moment of vulnerability, Vil’s chest clenched; he didn’t know you well, only knowing you from a few lessons in class because of you being a third year, but you do catch his attention on a few occasions.
Occasions such as you being knowledgeable in skin care, or the you that one time offered to give his face a massage while he stayed at Ramshackles; occasions that send his heart fluttering.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” a horned person stood nearby and you looked over. “I thought I’d arrive a bit early, and what do I find but a stage laid to waste?”
“Oh, Hornton…” you muttered, a little embarrassed like you’ve been caught even if you had done nothing but bare your feelings to both Rook and Vil. “There’s still two hours before the competition opens.”
“Hornton…!?”
“Oh, hey! So you’re the Hornton guy that wanders around Ramsheckle’s gardens late at night,” Grim said, earning the attention of the first and second years as if the third years weren’t already surprised by you. “I heard about you from [name], you really do have horns growin’ outta your head! Myah hah hah—MRAH!”
“Grim, are you nuts!?” Deuce whispered his hiss as he held Grim to his chest with a hand on his mouth. “Y-you can’t just talk to an upperclassman that way!”
“Roi des Dragons, how did you get into the coliseum?” Rook asked, earning a huff from the person.
“I was invited, by the child of man living in Ramshackle Dorm. I have my invitation right here.”
“I don’t think it’s that…” you said as you got up and dusted your bum. “The venue still has that mist, but for some reason you’re unscathed? Isn’t it the poison mist from Vil’s unique magic?”
“I suppose there was some sort of cantrip up when I came in,” the man said. “But no curse, no matter how powerful, will work on me.”
“I see you’ve taken advantage of [name]’s ignorance,” Vil said as he huffed.” Malleus Draconia.”
“Oh dang…” you muttered, remembering the times you heard his name but never saw him during the Spelldrive tournament because of the flying disk that went to your head.
hzn ┊ DAMN I LOST MY CHANCE TO PUT MANIPULATIVE NEIGE AGAJFJFHJFG BECAUSE VDC TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG. but anyways… i’m not too proud of it but i want to just post whatever i write since i have no job and i’m waiting for college to start. Original title was pretty please and it inspired me so bad but goddamn :((
what to know ┊ this is in a modern era, no one is mentally well, you are they/them, you are from mondstadt, and despite what the header says, the name "kunikuzushi" will be mostly used.
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When Kunikuzushi thinks back about his upbringing, he would've assumed that he would end up in bars or clubs as much as the bard he's familiar with or the ginger friend he's known since he was a child, but he did not.
Ajax happened to invite him to a bar at the right time to celebrate with his previous co-workers, and knowing them, it was less likely they would even show up, so the two of them were left with two cocktail towers.
As far as he knew, Ajax wasn't such a drinker either, but he spends Mora relentlessly, regardless, it's a waste to leave the two towers three-fourths full, so Ajax opted to invite more people to help them empty them.
One of the people invited was the bard that he doesn't really talk with, but knows that he has a fixation on alcohol; it's controlled when he pays for it or if he has duties, but if there are none, he is relentless.
Kunikuzushi doesn't understand alcohol addiction, but he's familiar with the concept of addiction itself.
There's the repetitive flashing lights and dancers on stage, but people seem much more focused on their own group gathering rather than the people on the stage or the disorientating background of the dancers.
"Aether said it was [name]'s birthday," the ginger said, his gaze directed at his screen and can't help but think to himself that he could care less if you appear or not since it was not like he knew you. "We'll merge with their groups and they'll go ahead here first."
"They're coming?" he asked, his surprise lowering the volume of his voice that he was muted by everything that was happening in the bar and was only understood due to his lips. "Just the both of them together?"
He knew Ajax would nod to that answer, so he just looks away, finding his own question dumb, because Aether was known to always be stuck with you since the current month had started for some unknown reason.
Granted you have a kind personality and have been friends with him as far as everyone knew—but he was suddenly close to you now as far as everyone also noticed.
Thinking about it just gives him a headache that he'd rather not have this way, so he grabs a glass and puts it under the tap of the cocktail tower; he doesn't like thinking about the business of other people anyways—unlike you.
Ajax talked about his work as a corporate worker under the Tsaritsa while waiting for the rest, only getting himself a glass and sipping ever so often, not wanting to get wasted before the rest could arrive.
Kunikuzushi was the opposite, wanting to nearly incoherent by the time you arrived; he’d once heard that alcohol increases relaxation because of some brain chemical—something about neurotransmitters—that he doesn't remember the name, and he very much wants to be relaxed.
Still, despite wanting to be drowned in what he was drinking, he made sure to give Ajax replies that he was listening, after all, Ajax's coworkers were once his too before he left to—
"Oh, it's Ajax."
It's sickly sweet.
He placed the glass down to look up as Ajax stood up saying, "Welcome, birthday celebrant and Aether! It's been so long, and you two came together?"
"Thanks to [name]'s car at least," the blond replied, giving Kunikuzushi a smile after noticing him much there wasn't much to say since he looked quite tipsy already.
"I heard you came from Snezhnaya until the Tsaritsa set up another branch here, how are you adjusting?" you asked, smiling while shaking hands with Ajax since he offered it.
"It's... hot, to say so at least," Ajax said before his eyes trailed down to your clothing at to your companion. "Matching tops?"
"More like his clothes," you laughed. "Lumine nearly tripped the stairs with bleach and, well, there goes my top, and Aether's clothes are nearly all the same."
Right, the same black, tight, and cropped shirts that Aether usually wears was something you were also wearing.
"I'm surprised to see you here," Aether speaks, his voice nearly being drowned out with the volume of the entire bar as he sits beside the individual with an indigo-colored hair. "Last time I saw you, you were with the Harbingers."
"He's changed now," Ajax said, moving to sit in his earlier place as you politely sat on an individual chair outside of the couch. "Said he's here because of a breakup."
You were eyeing the contents of the table, being noticed by Ajax and he said, "Did you want anything else?"
"You ordered two towers for yourselves?" you asked the obvious, much to Kunikuzushi's irritation that he can't help but scoff.
He knew you noticed, it was just that you were granted with the patience of a saint with him that you didn't even comment or feel insulted; that was just one of the rewards you got from the course you took and finished in College.
"There are people that are supposed to come with but ended up canceling, corporate work gets busy for them," Ajax said and you nodded to yourself. "But I paid for them, take it as my gift, comrade. If you want, we can order more."
"I appreciate it, but I'm not a drinker," you laughed. "But if you're still insisting later, perhaps I could go for two more towers for the rest of the group."
"Kuni was dating?"
Aether seemed to be the only one to be surprised about that fact, because the ginger was aware of it and you were just looking pleased since you had a past bet with Aether about it; you won, basically.
The fact that he was dating seemed to just past through you too, when you would often be disturbed and ask the speaker if they should be saying such to you without the person of the topic's consent.
"Pay up," you smiled towards his way, a little too happy to be receiving money despite your already impressive wealth.
"Why was Kuni dating a topic of a bet?" Ajax asked.
"Good question," Aether said, almost bitterly, albeit a little irritated to be giving away cash as he tries to hand them to you but fails short. "The bet was years ago and I forgot why."
Kunikuzushi did his best not to react to see the blond's hand over yours as you reached for the Mora in his hand; he so did not need you two to be doing that in front of him especially after knowing he just underwent a breakup.
It makes him feel bitter that he pushed the empty glass underneath the tap of the cocktail tower again for another one.
Aether continued, "I'll send the rest to you online."
"You didn't bring cash?" you asked as you counted the Mora on your palm to see it wasn't the amount of money that you should be receiving. "But you remember my number, right?"
"Did you even ever changed numbers?" Aether asked as Kunikuzushi raised the tap to fill up his drink.
"No, had the same number for seven years already."
"That's quite a feat," Ajax commented, side-eyeing his friend that took a large swig of his drink before back to you. "I change every two weeks."
"Well, to be fair, I'm not that popular so..." you responded, smiling a little that you don't mean to be offensive about what you thought about the life of Aether's friend. "But is... your friend okay...?"
"Funny of you to ask that," the person with indigo-colored hair said with evident hostility making you look away; he doesn't look happy.
Perhaps it was because you were a stranger to Kunikuzushi that he was wary of you, but Aether still couldn't help but lean to you making you lean your side near him, assuming he's going to whisper.
"Did you bring your evil eye?" he whispered and you leaned away to smack his thigh for saying that, but he leaned close to continue his words. "I don't understand why he dislikes you so much, but he usually has the best gut feeling out of all of us."
Aether basically insinuated that it's either your jewelry was the problem or you, and that caused you to frown, hissing at his way, "I bring it for protection, not to hex. How could you doubt me now? You're such an ass."
"Is this your way of flirting?" Kunikuzushi frowned. "Right in front of my drink?"
"But what happened to the rest of the group?" Ajax asked, trying to make proper conversation with you and Aether. "I thought you said the rest of the Anemo would be here."
4NEMO, to be exact, odd name, but that's a band group consisting of Venti, Heizou, Xiao, and Kazuha—majority being light-weights in terms of consuming alcohol.
"Kaeya, Diluc, and the rest are coming too," you said, meaning there will be a large crowd later that will be coming for your birthday. "They said that they would be a little late."
In summary from how Kunikuzushi understood it by listening and not talking, apparently the drinking was supposed to start later 8pm, but Venti and the rest wanted to move it in a later time because he hasn't recovered from the previous attended with Kaeya and the rest.
You and Aether only read the group chat when you were already in the middle of driving close to the bar, and it was fortunate that Ajax texted the group chat and tried to invite people, thus there you were.
Aether's words kept overlapping with yours when you were trying to tell the story, and halfway, you gave up and started serving yourself a drink—that Aether took for himself.
"Is this your revenge because I won our bet?" you said, quite bitter as you frowned, but you weren't truly offended or that serious about it. "Real petty, Aether."
If Aether took Kunikuzushi's, he would've been offended, then again, he did already mention that you were granted with a patience of a saint—he just realized that you had the compassion of one as well.
He stayed quiet, drinking a few more since that was the reason for him being present there anyways, and of course, he's not dumb enough as to not see you glancing at him often each time he puts the glass beneath the tap of the cocktail tower.
It wasn't shot glasses, but usual 8 ounce glass.
Ajax and Aether started talking while you muse yourself in your phone to keep yourself updated about the people who wanted to go to the bar to celebrate your birthday even if the location was voted based on the drinkers of the chat.
Since you came with your car, you wouldn't drink too much when you knew you would be driving; he did notice you tasted the drink of the tower, and then you just left the ice to melt in the drunk as you tried your best to stay connected with the rest.
You weren't a drinker so you were waiting for the ice to melt so it would be drinkable for you, but you failed to notice that the ice melts quite quickly since some of the gourmet ices were hallow.
"I'll leave you guys for a bit," you said, thinking you were heard until you lifted your head to see Ajax and Aether talking and Kunikuzushi being the only one attentive enough to hear you despite his flushed state.
"What?" Kunikuzushi asked, sounding quite irritated to see you hesitate on speaking up again.
"I... I just..." you murmured, very much looking like you're reluctant to talk to him. "I wanted to see if the VIP room was available now, just to double check since the rest were going to come early so we could move there."
He nodded to your words; he heard you well, he's flushed but definitely not drunk—it's reassuring and you seem to trust him, considering that you blinked a few times in his way.
Still, despite telling him your plan, you hesitated on leaving them, and you seem to glance at him and then at the reception desk, only making up your mind when he waved at his hand for you to go.
It was quite funny.
You got up and left to ask about the room that you and your group most likely shared money on to be able to drink in a secluded spot.
Aether watched you when you left but when he connected the dots together, he went back to talking to Ajax while Kunikuzushi tried to sober up a little now, taking bits of ices in his mouth now to chew after realizing that his thoughts are going in a direction he didn't want.
"I thought that you'd get along well with them, Kuni," Aether said, referring to you as he went to refill his drink as well, he sounded quite surprised.
"What made you think so?"
The question escaped his lips before he knew it, of course, it's because he's tipsy, but he didn't like not being able to think before he say anything, considering his withdrawn personality.
"I mean... they smile a lot," the blond said, earning a chuckle from Ajax by the implication that smiles would be enough for you to earn the favor or trust of Kunikuzushi.
From his previous encounters with you, he can say that the blond was not wrong about you; for someone with an eye like him, he would know that you smile at everything even if you were nervous, or that you smile merely to comfort.
He looked down at the bucket filled with ice; your eyes crinkle when you smile as well, it's like when you smile, so does your eyes, you smile even when you're alone or just on your phone like you were capable of smiling even if you break someone's heart.
"Even if I smile a lot, it didn't get me the favor of Kuni, did I?" Ajax said as he leans back on his seat with a hearty laugh.
Aether's head turned towards Ajax as Aether responded in a playfu banter though he half-heartedly actually meant it, "Unlike [name], you have ulterior motives, they're really genuine and I thought... I just thought they'd be the person you might need."
Aether's words hit a nerve, especially when Kunikuzushi placed the thongs down and replied coldly with, "You're saying this to someone who just underwent a breakup."
"I... I was insensitive, sorry," the blonde murmured and it was drowned out in the loudness of the bar, but Kunikuzushi read his lips well. "But who even was—"
"They said we can go in."
You appeared behind the couch Ajax sat on, placing your hands on the headrest of the couch as you looked at the three of them, not knowing you cut in on Aether's words.
The flashing lights of the bar made you look like a silhouette as you made your way around the couch the ginger sat to go back to your earlier seat as you continued, "But only if you guys want to since we're still waiting for the others."
"Let's stay for now," Aether responded. "Just wanna stay in this loud environment first since it's quiet without Venti and the rest."
"Oh, Aether, thanks for giving my glass ice," you said, much to the blond's confusion.
Perhaps you felt like a small connection has been formed between you and Kunikuzushi, but you weren't being discreet in your glances anymore when you looked at his empty glass and asked, "Are you trying to sober up?"
He scowled in response to your question as if to put up a wall, and it's obvious enough that he was still irked by what the blond tried to insinuate between you and him.
As usual, most likely thinking that he was not in the mood for your bullshit, you smiled apologetically at him and then murmured, "Sorry."
Not like he heard your apology that was too quiet in the vast place, he just happened to be able to read you lips and body language; he tried not to mind so much as he scoffed and looked away.
He does not want to sober up anymore, pushing his glass under the tap, his mind repeating the words Aether dare utter when his emotions are already all-over the place—not that the blond would know he's a part of his ill feelings.
Was it so wrong to see if you would react to his fifth glass, since someone in his life did mention that that number was dangerous?
You minded your business too much after he scowled at you, which is something he's supposed to be thankful for considering that's the reaction he was supposed to incite from any usual human being he's ever interacted with.
"I think we should move the towers, Diluc and the rest—" you said, raising your head from your phone and turning to them to realize that most of them were all already a bit tipsy.
His judgement or perception was probably clouded already and the flashing lights of the bar wasn't helping; he feels like standing would be enough to send him hurling—it's what he gets for rushing his drinks.
"I'll help," Ajax said, having quite the tolerance for alcohol, or perhaps because he was still in his second glass.
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Much to the favor of a certain bard, the couch in the room were nearly full; Venti was like the star of your birthday because of the way he takes many drinks while Kazuha was quietly muttering and asking Xiao to pour him more.
From what Kunikuzshi noticed, Xiao had the same tolerance as he did, and you haven't touched your glass except for the time people asked to click drinks with you; clearly, there are other places you could've celebrated your event.
Was he staring at you the entire time to notice that?
Not at all, but Venti wanted to switch places with you earlier since he did not want the couch since he goes around when he drinks; you were in his line of sight since your thighs are literally mushed beside his.
Though prior to the drinking, people actually presented their gifts to you, there were obvious things such as alcohol or wine's boxes or gift bag, or maybe Venti's gift that was an instrument with random rose that made majority of the people feel interested.
Majority of them translated to people of Mondstadt that Aether, Ajax, Xiao, and Kazuha was just as confused Kunikuzushi was.
You reacted rather nervous, and now you're still looking at the flower making Kunikuzushi glance at the flower every now and then while Kaeya engages on a drinking competition with the bard.
The word competition had set Ajax off and now he's in the game as well despite being in a clear advantage, while the rest were drinking, you were in a conversation with the rest of your guests.
"You... ordered a cab to get here?" you questioned, rather looking offended at Jean's words.
While you appreciate their attendance, you much preferred if they asked for your help considering it's late in the night; you were strict with your money, but not when it comes to your companions or your gas money.
"No, we were with her," Diluc responded much to your relief. "Albedo and Sucrose were supposed to hitch a ride with us, but they got busy when we were supposed to get them."
"Rosaria and Barbara couldn't make it because it's Sunday," Jean adds. "Eula is... just as busy."
"Your sister texted me prayers, and I understand they're not around," you said. "I'll drive Aether home, so if any of you needs a lift, let me know."
"Ask Ajax," Kunikuzushi suddenly spoke up in a casual manner, which you should be concerned about. "We came in with a motor."
The information was troubling, because Ajax was obviously tipsy, and while the rest were having fun, you all weren't truly going to stay for too long since it was a Sunday night and everyone should be heading home by midnight.
"How about you, Xiao?" you asked, tilting your body forward to have access to the person beside Kunikuzushi. "Or the rest of Anemo in that matter."
"We took the cab," he answered, looking down at his drink. "Though if you need my assistance..."
Now that Xiao said that, Kunikuzushi now can't help but wonder if the popular people he's with right now were just so lax with their security, because what did the person beside him mean that he just took a cab despite being a literal celebrity?
You can't even hide your concern as you glanced at Kunikuzushi and then at Xiao, but then you murmured, "Then again, it's Anemo we're talking about... I shouldn't even be surprised anymore."
"Does Ajax lend his motor?" you asked, now looking at Kunikuzushi.
It's the alcohol, because there was no way he would look at you like that, he knew it himself as someone who underwent heartbreak; he knows better, he has to know better.
You looked away and murmured to yourself, "Of course he does, he'd just buy a new one if he has to."
"I'll drive if I you insist," Xiao spoke up, much to your immense gratitude despite you not really insisting anything, but that's his way of offering.
"I suppose six people can fit in the car if we try hard enough..."
Ajax would surely agree to Xiao taking his motor home on his stead, and you'll just tail him for security and drive Anemo, Aether, Ajax, and Kunikuzushi—all in order—home since you were that concerned whether or not they'll live another day.
It's something you do, and when Kunikuzushi thinks about it, it feels exhausting, because at the end of the drive, you'll be alone driving home in suffocating or relieving silence.
"You can leave Aether to us."
You trust Diluc to drive his own car, but you don't trust Aether to be with them in his current state; your emotions are at your face that anyone coherent can tell you were mildly uncomfortable.
Jean adds, "Lumine texted us to make sure he's sober before we go home, it should be okay. She told us it's important, we'll make sure to follow through."
"Lumine did?" you whispered, though the music outside could still get in the room, you just mouthing the words were enough. "Okay."
You love your friends loudly and your concern was palpable; the least the people close to you could do was to help you even if you don't actively ask for it.
The thought could've come from the alcohol, but it's the first time Kunikuzushi had seen you be with your friends physically in his presence—you were capable of loving them so loudly, and yet you were so quiet about him.
There's a slight jolt on you when he suddenly leaned on you, making Jean, Diluc, and Xiao look at you in concern that you might not be okay with what he's doing, but you shook your head as if to say you were okay with it.
He's very much drunk, but he shouldn't be doing this.
It's the alcohol in his system that moved his hand to rest on your knee, and it's the alcohol in his system that tells himself that he wants to be loved too—not loudly, but maybe to let your friends know about him too.
It was the alcohol in his system that broke his heart as you continued to talk to your friends about work and that there was little reassurance that you want them to know anything about your private relationships.
He can't resist the shiver on his spine when you clasped your hand on his underneath the table by your lap, your cold palm over the back of his hand.
Something must have changed in you to do that, maybe you were intoxicated too, because there was no way—there was no way you ever wanted anyone to know about him—not with his upbringing, especially his mother.
But you were sober, you barely touched your drink, and your body was cold unlike his that were heating up.
It's suddenly hard to breathe, and he can't blame it on the alcohol, because this was the very thing he longed for despite your impressive wealth and the affections behind closed doors; he won't take it as hallucinations.
God forbid this wasn't real; you could be friendly, but you don't accept that much affection from anyone with a fragile background since you were trying to keep your name clean in the public view.
Being a Harbinger wasn't something questionable, it was a occupation that gave chance to those who needed it—the flaw in his background was his mother that he ran away from thus backlash for his choice.
Your companions were all popular as well for different reasons, and the clearest background he knows of was Aether's and his twin, anything in their childhood could barely be traced, not even when he was a Harbringer.
The rest was a blur, because all he remembers were what you did.
An hour before going home, some stopped drinking already and there was a lot of empty jugs of water; he wasn't so coherent but he remembers the tumbling of the glass and his wet lap and your pants—what he remembered most was the tissues in your hand while you tried to keep him from growing cold from the water.
Thank goodness for the shorts.
Ajax did lend Xiao his motorcycle, and Ajax was the one to assist Kunikuzushi out—by that, he was just watching him the entire time as they exit the place to the parking lot because he refused to be held.
He remembers it because you told Ajax to put him on the passenger seat while you checked on Diluc, Kaeya, Jean, and Aether.
It was still loud considering Kazuha didn't entirely sober up and Venti was still just as loud, and he can't rest with Ajax shaking his seat and asking if he was obviously barely coherent; he can't even be convinced by Venti to trust you.
He supposes Ajax was just worried that he was drunk and that he might not be safe with you, since he was going to be the last to be dropped off; he wanted to feel embarrassed how Ajax was so openly telling you that you were odd, but he was too exhausted.
"He lives with me," you clarified after you got in the car, adding to the loudness of the car. "He had enough GABA from the alcohol, he should be fine after relaxing—and stop bouncing in the car!"
Suddenly, he's not so exhausted anymore, because you had just declared the fact that you were in a relationship with him, but made Ajax just argue with you further, because as far as he knew, Kunikuzushi broke up with someone—rather—you.
And you mentioned GABA, that's the neurotransmitter you've learned in your first year that you kept mentioning to memorize; he remembers now.
He's coherent when it comes to these moments, that, at least, he's sure of, because he remembers the following hours despite being in and out of sleep.
He was the last to go home with you, but he remembers that after dropping off everyone else, you drove to a nearby convenience store for water and you knocked for a minute for him to wake up and unlock the car for you.
You had to get him water, chips, and then you two stayed somewhere you can park the car, because he wants to vomit out all that he drank since he wants to make out and you kept refusing.
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hzn ┊ had an writing that focused on both of their perspectives, but i think it would be better to focus on scara's side muna (first)... not that i'd publish your or [name]'s pov... this was supposed to be something exhausting but i feel too bad T-T maybe in another time.
✦ ┊ he's your knight, how much does he know about you?
what to know ┊ this contains fantasized royalty au, woman mc, morally questioning, could be suggestive, platonic, or romantic, and it has mentions of heavy themes.
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Xiao was not one to serve whomever just to have a roof over his head like there was nothing else he knew what to do, as if he had no will of his own.
His background from birth were anything but vivid; he barely remembers what it felt like when he was a child or if he ever felt like one, he doesn't even remember his parents, because if he forcibly looked back to the memories, all he remembered were picking up discarded, dull, and rusted weapons from near the old castle.
It was during war, people were in a panic and it was easier to steal, but he claimed to have morals and wouldn't eat unless it was given or bought—most of all, however, was the fact that old weapons were now being discarded.
To call it high quality would be a lie, because when he picked them up, they felt fake, in a sense they were more like decorations than a weapon to go to war to, and those weapons were made under the first born man of royalty.
The king was in his death bed when the first prince took over; the war was won with a lot of casualties and poor planning, at least according to what Xiao had been told about within the maids of the palace.
It was luck that the kingdom won the war.
A lot of people died because of those frail and useless weapons, even the creator, the first born, had lost his life because of it, which made the second born take over the affairs and receive backlash for being a woman.
They said it was also said that it was luck that the second born, supposedly a princess to be married off, became a queen, but that's where Xiao knew better to believe that it was luck.
Because before all that, he had talked to you.
"Is it not natural to be curious where the discarded weapons had been going?" you asked him back then with a confident tone despite the men you've brought with you were down the moment he rose his weapon. "Do I not deserve your thanks?"
Every guard but you, adorned in jewels and had to wear a gown with your waist and lungs compressed with a corset and the lower half of your body puffed by an enormous amount of crinoline and petticoats; you couldn't even bring a weapon with you in that amount of outfit.
The weapons that were discarded were because you stepped up when the first born left for war; the same spears and swords Xiao picked up and polished to sell for a living.
You've been changing weapons when the first born went to war, which was most likely why you found it odd in the first place that they're being resold or going in circles of the economy; then there he was, Xiao, the seller.
Xiao had sold the old, but polished weapons, and though the people assume he was a royal knight because of it—he was not, and he never uttered being one, so he was not punishable by law in any way.
But what he was punishable by being an assassin, that much you can dig into, and despite his morals, he can't do anything if he's being blackmailed so he needed the money to buy back drawings that no hands should have drawn or eyes to see.
He didn't plan on attacking anyone that didn't pose to be a threat first, and he most likely and certainly didn't plan on harming the benefactor that helped him earn; a face most familiar for being offered millions to kill.
"Be my sword, and you'll get the right to burn these," you said in confidence, showing your hand with a roll of papers with a ribbon with the crest of a duke.
He knew what complete confidence sounded like, and your tone didn't fit to it; your voice may be confident, but your stance was hesitant—you didn't want to do this to him.
Frankly, too, he could just steal those papers in your hands and get away with it. If only you could just confirm that they were the last copies of what the duke had a painter sketch.
Xiao was taking too long to reply because he wasn't threatened, and you also felt like this was not working because you were at clear disadvantage; your guards are down and you're defenseless.
In a few seconds of silence, you threw the scroll by his feet and said, "Take them, they're the last copies I could buy from anywhere."
The last thing Xiao had wanted was to be stuck with another noble and have his body shamed for all eternity, but what you've given him was mercy to him or perhaps you were asking him for mercy to let you go.
Still, your words sounded nice as he took the papers and he only ever opened them a little for confirmation before he burned them; his heart only ever feeling light after all the years of pent up anxiety and the gnawing guilt.
And so then, what now?
The princess, you, seemed to have much time in your hands, kneeling by the fire caused by flint; you've seen the drawings as well, and you looked like you were at your wits end, then again, you were a woman with a high status.
The king has a first born son and a second born daughter.
Everyone remembers the way your birthday was the same as your your brother despite the year gap, and everyone remembered that the first time you rode a barouche, you had shined more than your brother did.
You don't even try to get near him, poking the ashes with a stick to make sure every inch of it was taken; Xiao finds you dumb for being defenseless, but for a noble woman, you looked like you had nowhere to go.
"Take me," Xiao said, not knowing where he should go from there on knowing that there's nothing holding him by the neck.
There's a pause as you blink before you responded, "...I didn't coerce you, just so we're clear, and I will have your sins pardoned."
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Xiao wouldn't claim that you gave him a new life or a new identity, but what you gave him that day was a choice of his own to live how he wants his life when he had breaks or when he's not on breaks.
What his task was to simply protect you, and he didn't have to stare at you on hours on end; you've allowed him to be anywhere as long as he protects you when danger comes, and fortunately, no one knew about him.
One of the things that Xiao finds quiet comfort in is the fact that your servants are well taken care of and that it's easy to distinguish which ones are close to you when the doors are closed, but what he finds most boggling is that you don't mind him around even when you dress.
You've grown desensitized about being watched getting dress, and for him, that speaks volumes, but he turns away from you.
"Have you eaten, Xiao?" you asked before you held your breath, holding on to the powder table as your maid pulled on the strings to further compress your skin.
"He has yet to," your maid responded in his stead as if he wasn't around with tinted ears.
"Have you asked if he's on strict eating regulation? He is a future knight, after all," you said, directing your words to your maid now as she takes the dress from the stand. "Perhaps allergies?"
"On the contrary, Your Royal Highness, he eats desserts."
"Is that so...? That's quite cute," you laughed as you stepped into the dress that your maid pulled up for you. "Xiao, make sure you eat more than desserts, they are the second dangerous food here to eat, more than the main meal."
"Be careful?" he questioned in his mind as your maid inserts the hooks in the eyes on the back of your dress.
It was only later during dinner time with the maids did they tell Xiao that the reason desserts are second dangerous to eat was because they were mostly the food that's poisoned, and the drinks were usually ranked first.
Not only did Xiao notice that you were heavily desensitized over the fact you could handle being watched when you bathe and dress, but you reacted the same to when being in the same room as him; he may be a special person since he's your personal (future) knight, but he hoped you were a little more wary at him since he's still human.
He saw a handful of times the way you wake up by yourself in cold sweat, whatever your dreams were seemed to be repetitive, and attempting to sleep again just repeats the dreams—he figured you keep trying to sleep again and again just so you could 'rest' for the next day.
The most painful thing to watch about you was everything.
Everything about you was so painful; he's not your guard so he can't interfere nor can he even show himself—he eats with the maids and sleeps in your room, for goodness sake.
You weren't being taken seriously, any opinions of yours being disregarded, but then considered if it came from a man's mouth; the weapons you stayed all night about developing with won't even by made by your name.
It's painfully so obvious what the men with you in the room were thinking and where their eyes linger with you; if they could marry you, your ideas are just as good as theirs.
No wonder you were at your wits' end, or that your rushed steps to your room felt faster because you were suffocating from endless unsolicited attention and words, and from the fact you're living a life you didn't choose.
"Your Royal Highness."
Xiao could only stand beside the door of your chambers as soon as you entered; you find yourself pausing—thinking that he was also a man but he had never crossed you even if you had nothing to hold him back.
There's no threat you could hold over him, but why was he much more tamed than them?
If there's one mental rule you placed in your mind with Xiao, it was that you would never touch him; you wouldn't dream of triggering anything you didn't—and you wouldn't crave for touch either, not you.
"I want water," you whispered, wondering if that's okay to ask of him, but he nodded and left through the window as you made your way to your desk.
It would be a scandal if people founded out that the princess' study and powder room was in the same room as her bedroom, because it shows how you're being perceived by the king.
Every bit of your skin felt itchy; a growing feeling that something was awfully wrong with you made its way, and it's a familiar feeling because you're getting choked up—you want to cry and remove yourself from your body.
Sometimes you feel like the world would be better if you just had a body of a man; if only you could even pretend to be one, and if only your features were not so feminine then maybe you could have a say on the table earlier.
"...Your Royal Highness, I've received intel," Xiao said as he walked in with a jug of water, glass, and a plate of a dessert stacked in his hands.
"Is it good?" you asked, your voice breaking because of your tears and you see him visibly wince, and you laughed after since he must be scared to try handling feelings out of his expertise.
"The... His Royal Highness... died in war."
You blinked; you trusted Xiao in his words and knew they held true, you can't help the feeling of happiness climbing in your system but that made you feel just as rotten for feeling so, it's your conscience.
Xiao places the water by the table with the dessert, and he reached on his pocket, hesitating to pull out his handkerchief because you obviously had better ones and he's keeping one for you—not that you'd know.
He puts his handkerchief down on the table with the water and you blinked again; you keep getting surprised but he's more surprised with your switch of moods.
The way he understands it is that you have no time to feel other things since there are other concerns, and there are opportunities for you, but he felt less tense when you grabbed his handkerchief for your tears as you felt motivated to write.
"I'm... ending everything in one swoop," you whispered as you grabbed your quill before you glanced at the dessert. "Is this your favorite, Xiao?"
Almond tofu was something you could eat when you felt like it as it wasn't too expensive as sugar was, and it was sweet in a sense; you could hit it with the spoon and watch it bounce all day if you could.
"Yes..."
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Xiao put this upon himself; he figured you never directly or indirectly ever let it sunk into you to be the cause of the death of the person, but you got what you wanted, hell, you won't even let go of the papers that was your lifeline.
He offered to tend to you since you sent out the maids you were usually with for this one specific plan, and so they won't get involved as you felt numbed in all parts of your body.
It's over.
The night had just started, there's so much hours following on as he started first with kneeling before you outside the bed, removing the heels that made you stand on tiptoes until they blistered, until you found it hard to walk.
"It's over," he whispered to your distraught state before you covered your face, moving your elbows to your thighs as you leaned there.
You lied to your father by telling him the papers in your hands was to aid your brother in war, for him to sign to protect you, to grant you the title queen, and then that there will be no one to oppose to it—before you told him that your brother died, knowing servants didn't want to tell him because he won't be able to handle it.
Your father couldn't handle the news that his heart was blocked, preventing him from breathing, even until you left the room heartless while the servants fussed over the king.
Never had you felt your conscience clawing at you as much as you felt happy, because even so, you were cherished by your father, but only because your sex made you capable of being sold.
You choked on your tears and saliva as Xiao tenderly took your hair from your shoulder, trying to do it how your maid did—his fingers combing through your scalp as a hair stick was by his mouth; he made sure to keep your hair up.
"You... won't be able to breathe," he whispered quietly despite your sobs, referring to your corset that he wanted to remove for your betterment but couldn't risk making you uncomfortable. "Your Royal Highness, pardon me for this, please..."
He said it so quietly because he had to remove it if he wanted to act as your maid to change you out; he stayed with your maid to ensure he does it right, he starts with the clasps on your back.
You, heavily desensitized over it, didn't mind, much to his heartbreak; he felt little to no lust for you, not because your relationship was professional, but because he wouldn't dare want to make you feel like he was the same as those you had to sit with in the past.
Still, you know him, he's uncomfortable doing something he's not given permission of, so you nodded, and then you nodded until you start sobbing again; it's so hard to hold back now that you're feeling so relieved as you are utterly spent.
Xiao was awkward, but he was incredibly trustworthy; he did more than what you asked from him.
From your journey, he gave you information that you wouldn't have know earlier, he served you like he was a servant, he learns a lot of things to accommodate you, and he even goes his way out to protect the servants you cherish.
It was a 'no' for you to use your servants to do your bidding when it was obviously against the king; they have been too nice for you to involve them.
There's already little trust that you've given him when you met him, but now it's immense as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he attempted to carry your bare form to a bath, which you loved the most if it was hot water and when you could take your time.
He knows what you loved, and you only know so little about him—only his past that he tends to avoid talking about, perhaps it's not something he wishes to remember, or something he had forgotten about already.
You leaned your head back on the ceramic, tilting your head enough to look at him once you've seated on the bath; he's a man, but he hasn't tried anything even if you were bare on the water and defenseless, in fact, he's rolling up his sleeves.
"...Your Royal Highness, I'll take care of you," he said quietly, soothing your ears as you closes your eyes while he takes your hair from the side of your head. "If ever you fall asleep, leave it to me also."
As response to him, you nodded, he was so gentle, but what you can confirm was that he had always been watching over you—and his skills were learned by observing your maid; there's a bit of you that wanted to be wary, but then again, you should rest.
For tonight, you don't want to think and Xiao here was willing to do things for you, and he might even just tuck you in.
The rule you put for yourself when it comes to him was to never touch him, because you knew what he went through, but here he was, holding your arm up as he ran the cloth over it tenderly.
"I have knights... rather, an order," you whispered saying that you have people under the same group. "I think you'll fit well with them when you reach become a knight."
"That will take years..." he whispered though it's no complain and you opened your eyes to see him moving to your legs before your body.
"Don't be silly," you laughed, the water of the bath going along with you as you raised your leg for him not to have to reach for it under the water. "You're skipping the page and squire."
"Is that not against the law?"
"Laws could be bent," you said, both of you talking as if you weren't naked in the tub. "Just like my father, I caused it, but I wasn't the one to do it... I won't even show up on the autopsy."
Xiao stayed quiet as you go back to closing your eyes to relax in the bath; you will rest and you will relax, tomorrow will be another big day since you're the only remaining royal left—and you will submit your contract to the court to earn your place.
That night, you would say that you would rest, but you ended up writing your plans for the next day as Xiao took bits and bits of almond tofu on a spoon to put by your mouth to take.
It's his favorite, and maybe you liked it too since your maids said that there was a lot of them stocked after he first had you taste them days ago when your brother died.
Your legs swing on your back as you read through more papers. feeling much more comfortable ever than you were in your entire life, since your work was not in a rush, the only thing that was making you feel off was Xiao's actions.
"I never took you with me for this," you wanted to tell him since it was a wonder why he was so good at servicing you or why he wanted to do it in the first place when you haven't even give him a proper bed yet.
All he could occupy in your home was the couch on the foot of your bed, and so you started wondering if he ever planned on staying as a knight until he retires when he's old or if he was here until he couldn't get anything anymore even if he didn't seem to be like that.
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There seems to be a shift in your relationship with Xiao after that night; he's more willing to touch you now that he's sure that you didn't mind and he seems to be doing the maids' duties than a knight since he was always willing to do your hair and dress you.
The maids noticed it more than you did because you have gotten used to it quickly, and with your new position, you were definitely happier though you had to pretend to be sad for the death of your only family.
"I'm going to have to push back your ceremony," you whispered as he brushed back your hair away from your face to tie it, knowing it was a sign of rebellion against the stereotypes and he was more than willing to help you with it. "I'll try compensating you."
"...I'd appreciate if you let me join the war," he spoke and the way you suddenly turned your head his way, surprised and even distraught ruined your hair completely.
Should you ask? Was it within your relationship?
Your eyebrows furrowed before you turn back to the mirror, choosing not to ask as Xiao gathered your hair again to tie it again; you brought your father six feet under ground and yet you associated your hard work as Xiao helping you to the point you think he's your luck?
There's a pit in your stomach that you tried to understand, but you could not stand having him away for too long, much less on a lengthy event such as war—it's not something you can just send him to.
"What made you think that?" your maid asked as she unbuttoned the buttons of your suit for the meeting later with other men. "Why war?"
"To contribute," Xiao whispered.
To earn his place, he wants to work for it.
You sighed, can't help but had your good mood be broken down by his words, and you can't hold him back because you wanted him to do what he felt like would be best for him.
He's here just to watch over you, but there's not much point to it now since you're going to be a queen, even if you need a knight more than ever, people couldn't point their swords at your legitimacy.
"I'll send a letter to the order to take you in," you said, frowning softly. "The coronation is set in three days, and let's have your ceremony there as well and you will set off before this week ends."
"Is that possible?" your maid asked.
"Take it as the first order from the queen," you laughed a little, drumming your finger on the armrest, a little conscious to be alone now. "Write to me, Xiao."
What made Xiao different from your maids was the fact he sees you vulnerable every single day, and it's not the usual vulnerable in which you're naked or that he bathes you, it's that he's seen your emotional turmoil and knew that your heart was not so strong.
He would be leaving for a lengthy period, and you don't know how long you could last knowing you can't quietly confide in someone; your problems and sins were not as heavy before as they are now.
"Yes, Your Royal Highness..."
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The maids that were quite close to you couldn't understand how Xiao was not enamored as the people were with you, but then again, when he was officially knighted, he wore a uniform and with jewelry that made people question if he was a rich noble or a noble again from a neighboring country.
If they could ask Xiao, perhaps he'd a response for it, but he also looked like who wouldn't dare fathom such thoughts about you. It's quite a shame, they all thought.
It wasn't that he hated being approached, but he disliked small talks and close proximity, and there wasn't much to do other than watch you receive gifts while receiving messages; two or three being bold enough to confess their so-called undying feelings.
For sure, you killed those feelings with how loudly you laughed and sent them to jail for straight up disrespect, specifically on your coronation day; it's a sign that an unforgiving ruler was not sitting on the throne.
"They are all so heavy," he murmured, much to your amusement as you laughed whilst removing the ornaments on his collars and chest before then taking his hand to remove the bracelet.
He dressed himself so he would know how to remove them, and your maids only helped with the ornaments and jewelries.
You released his hand and placed the bracelet back on your table before you waved him off to get dressed in the bathroom while you handle your own appearance—but you only removed one earring when he was back to his casual clothing, and you hear the running water.
Perhaps he was used to dressing up in his clothing since it's repetitive, and the thought made you smile to yourself as you moved to remove your other earring in front of the mirror; Xiao is so cute.
What's heavier than his outfit was yours, because your entire hair was filled with clips and hanging jewelry, not only your hair but also your entire body.
Having gotten used to you as well, your hair was a simple puzzle, he knows which ornament to remove first and which clip to remove as not to disturb the other and tangle your hair—much to your amazement.
"You're leaving tomorrow, you should retire quickly for now," you said, removing the rings in your fingers and leaving them on the powder table with the rest of the things that he had removed. "It will not be so peaceful there..."
Some of the jewelries here were given as a gift before your coronation, and you scoffed when you first saw them after your maid finished delivering everything, because they had the money for jewelries but not when it comes to donation.
You've seen them all, and even memorized a few; it took your all to pretend not to see that Xiao had placed an out-of-the-place brooch by your table, pretending it was from your hair—of all places.
He's quite clumsy, you place your hand near your mouth to pretend to cough but you just wanted to smile a little; he's actually really cute for someone capable of taking down your men.
"Oh, and I had a spear custom made for you," you said, remembering that it was your gift for him being an official knight now even if he was going to leave as soon as possible. "Make sure to use it well so those noblemen will regret trying to make use of my ideas."
It's for him, and you didn't plan on saying it like that, in fact, you wanted to bid him goodbye or wish him safe for when he leaves tomorrow, but for some reason, it came out of your mouth like that.
You added, "And don't forget to write to me."
Silently, as you looked at his reflection in the mirror, you hoped he didn't take it the way it sounded like, because you didn't want him to feel like you were only using him for advertisment.
"I'll bring you victory, Your Royal Majesty."
"Just come back alive," you sighed, glancing at the brooch that was butterfly shaped. "The order too... tell them to come home soon."
To earn your favor, jewelries have been gifted to you, you've known which brand or hand some of them came from, and the butterfly-shaped brooch was simple—there's no scratches on it and it had quite the rough edges.
It warms your heart as you glanced at Xiao's hand as he moves to put another ornament down on the table from your neck, his hand had quite the scratches and rough skin, which made you sigh; he's so kind.
"Are they trustworthy?" Xiao asked, moving to now to hold your hair up with a hair stick and you nodded, smiling a little.
"I picked them up from the streets," you said, almost huffing a little in a little laugh. "They've been together since they were children, so I never tried to separate them, but they make the perfect group since they make up for each other's lacking."
Xiao suddenly thought about your age, you speak as though you were older than the order, which was a little confusing because you two looked like you were of the same age when you rode the barouche around the streets of the capital.
After a few hours when Xiao had to leave to war, you were wide awake, looking through the balcony since he had left in secret, only a few people knowing including the maids that were close to you; you couldn't go down in risk of getting caught.
The gift you gave him, however, was so bright in the dark that you wondered if you had overdone it, but he looked at you more times than you can count; you waved the brooch that he gave much to his embarrassment.
There is no doubt that he will get along with the order, because he had no choice, they were the safest order you can put him in without being bullied, and it was an order with two to three extroverts, worse was that the leader of the order itself was one of the extroverts.
Now, you had other things to do while Xiao was gone.
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Having power felt good, you realized after the duke was sentenced to death after being guilty of embezzlement and treason; as long as you showed favor on the other side, the others too would follow just so they could please you.
It was so easy to do good and manage the kingdom; the only heavy thing was the war despite not being sent a letter from Xiao that the situation was dire—and you find Xiao's letters quite hilarious as well because his words all sounded so confused.
The Marshal Vritras, Bosacius, apparently had the time do draw on Xiao—well, currently going by the name Alatus'—face; they all seem to spoil him as well, seeing that he was the youngest to be in the order and the youngest of them in general.
Alatus also writes that you had a bad reputation, but the order doesn't believe them, which you already knew since you were the one to make them official, and you were transparent with them as they are with you.
When the order realized that Alatus was able to write to you, they also asked permission through him, and it gets funnier because they start telling you more stories about Alatus then they also send you requests when they need supplies for war.
But Bosacius, however, when his first letter arrived, he made fun of your penname that you hid behind of to avoid the people from knowing they're in direct contact with the queen; you started not replying to his letters right after but you read them in case for emergency.
Though they don't even sound like they're at war with how they're speaking.
Apparently Alatus holds you in high regard, according to Menogias, it was what brought him closer to the order, aside from the fact that Alatus was sent by you to them.
It wasn't a lie when Xiao said that he'd bring you victory, because he did; it was written in Xiao's letter—not that you can call it letter because his words fits in strips of papers.
You can't help but drown yourself in your comfortable bed to hear that they were going to be returning soon; the banquet has long been planned because you couldn't bear the thought of losing.
Moreover, everyone was alive and everything was going well in the kingdom; the nobles were replaced, the kingdom is thriving, orphanages are built, and majority of the people respect you.
You had never felt so blessed, but the temple hates you for the deaths you caused and that you minimalized their reputation and impact on the citizens as if they both can't co-exist on being nice to the world.
In your bliss and moving around in joy, you let your guard down and didn't even hear the clicking of your balcony doors that was swiped up; it was late when you realized it and your only defense was your chair.
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There are a lot of knights displeased about the fact that the queen was not there to greet them after they have fought so long in war, but the order was able to pacify them because the queen could show up in the banquet held for them instead for their victory.
Xiao had nowhere to return; he had no house, just a home beside you, but he hadn't received a paper in return if he was allowed to go and there's no response on your side.
The ever so great leader Bosacius was willing to let him stay with the rest of the order in the knights' dorm or in Bonanus' house, considering she's a noble, and they all had to prepare for the banquet that will start at night and end before the sun rises.
It was only hours before the banquet did he receive a response from a pigeon and it was your handwriting alright, but it seemed rather odd; it was a shaky handwriting on your part.
Rather than responding to his question first, you gave him an order to tell Bosacius to pacify the knights' doubt about you not appearing and try to convince them that you would appear in the banquet, then only did you respond to Xiao saying that you've prepared his clothing.
Bosacius already did such, but Xiao still told him since he was also going to tell him and the rest of the order that he was leaving; the rest let him go and internally pardoned him for currently being unable to thank them since he can't seem to get it out of his mouth.
When Xiao arrived by the front of the palace, he can already see maids running around and from the windows while he snuck in through the balcony which was tied shut from inside, much to his surprise because you used to lock it but never tied it.
He sees you in bed, laying down, but it's covered by curtains and your maid only noticed him because of his dark clothing and spear so she allowed him in.
Yet there's so many blood.
"Is it Xiao?" you asked, sounding like your face was covered by the pillow and that it was as he pushed the curtains aside to see your on your chest and your back bare. "How are you so fast...?"
The maids have been discreetly trying to treat the large wound at your back without being obvious, so there's a lot of red cloth and just a bowl of water that's supposed to be for your face.
But you're so pale and your lips were already blue; he can't tell if it's because you've been untreated for a long time or because you lost a lot of blood since even your bed was heavily stained.
"How long has it been?" he asked, reaching for the bowl of water himself since your maids were not trained for such and your wound is open to the world for who knows how long.
"Since the letter arrived last night," you murmured, moving your hand to the pillow to brace yourself from the sharp pain and your voice sounded so hoarse like you've not been given water.
You've never involved your maids in your pain and now they didn't even know how to deal with it when a situation like this arrived; they could've been framed for your death had you not been holding onto sheer will.
What's most dangerous was probably the fact you've been awake since last night too, and now that you felt relief that Xiao was close, the relief is awakening the fatigue you've been pushing back—you suddenly want to rest for a long time.
Everything feels foggy, until the sharp pain on your back woke you up and you buried your face in your pillow again; it's so painful even if just a few sips of water enters it.
"Give me an hour," he whispered.
The way he said it was as if there's a lace of desperation in it, and his tone immediately earned a nod from you as you clench on the pillow; you need to stay awake for an hour.
At least an hour before he's sure that you are capable of waking up again in a later time, but he had no intentions of waking you up for the banquet; Bosacius would need to make up reasons.
He opened your drawers to look for where you hide your money, only having his heart clench to see that the butterfly brooch he left for you was placed on the center of many of your jewelries; he can't afford to be distracted.
Alatus grabs the pouch of coins and went for the balcony, even leaving his spear behind; he needs to get you the necessary things you need, but there's so much people around so he had to sneak around.
He paid for more than what it's worth to get past the lines, but he got back to you in half an hour. He can't catch a break, and people tried to swarm him with praises since his entire clothing was screaming that he was one of the knights that fought for you.
Was it odd that he was irritated?
You were still awake and the maids were on watch out and they covered your wound with wet cloth to avoid further infection; this must be the only time in your life did you feel like your body wants you to sleep.
Despite your knowledge, it doesn't extend all that much in medicines, just first aids so you don't know what Xiao plans on doing—the disinfectant he put around your wound was so painful that you cried in your pillow as your maids left to fetch drinkable water.
If there was a much gentler and tender option, Xiao was sure to choose it but disinfectants truly sting regardless of what brand it could be; you started sobbing on the pillow.
The reason you're left untreated was not because your maids are not capable of handling you, but because you knew it's not their expertise, you didn't want to end up crying in front of them, and you wanted the disinfecting and wrapping of the wound in all within just a few minutes.
You didn't want more pain than you were in.
This was a sign not to let the maids in, so when they arrived with the water, Xiao just took them by the door and whispered that they can talk downstairs later in the maids' dorms.
It's so much better to sleep it off, you don't understand why Xiao was keeping you awake while placing a gauze by your wound—you placed your hand on his arm when he tried to get you to sit up because that's not something you can handle.
Sitting up involves your skin folding because of the way you sit and that's painful for you and you shook your head at his way, feeling your throat blocked by the fear of more incoming pain.
He could only quietly guide you hand back to the pillow, offering just a light squeeze for you before he grabbed the bandages, opting to wrap it while you're laying down, but he'll have to move you around a little bit.
"Are you thirsty?"
You hummed weakly as a response as you nodded your head a little; it wasn't as painful as placing the disinfectant, most likely because Xiao just came from war and learning self-aid would be good as well as trying to aid your comrades.
Xiao doesn't know what you were thinking, planning to even try putting on a corset to present yourself later when you can barely handle being sat up; the clothes will just worsen your injury too.
He pours you a glass, his fingers reaching gently for your chin to lift it up a bit from the pillow so you could drink and your mouth opens unconsciously to take the water.
He tilts it so little but he's still clumsy at it, not that you had the time to think that it's funny or even a little cute since you were so exhausted, and drinking water just further proves to Xiao that you're perfectly capable of going to sleep now since you obviously had no respiratory problems.
There's so much to do while you were asleep, being in the group of Bosacius granted him power that he didn't plan on exploiting, but he needed their help and he needed that power to make sure the knights don't further see you badly due to your inability to be present at the banquet.
"You can sleep now," he whispered, taking the glass away and placing it on the table.
It's so peaceful for you now, and you consciously took his hand in yours just to give it a little squeeze before you took it back just as quickly. You murmured, "Welcome back."
It seemed like you had nothing more to say since you fell asleep fairly quickly with your head on the side so you could breathe, and he can't help but just sink at the side of your bed, finally being able to try and catch his own breath.
"Not you."
He also thought the same thing back when he first saw you; the real reason why he can never try to assassinate you despite being blackmailed was because you're his benefactor—and because he wanted to see the child he saw in the barouche shine so brightly again.
There's no way that your brother was protected by the order you made, because your own order knew that he was in the way of you and the power you were supposed to rightfully own; it was why he died in the first place.
You had no idea how capable they were of playing dumb, and also him; you didn't even check if your father actually died that day, you left when the physician went to check on him—he lived, and Xiao just suffocated him.
The reason the order and him got along so well were because they were all people saved by you, and now your kingdom vouches for you; there's no telling what will happen to the Temple now.
He breathes out before he gets up since he needs to tell Bosacius now about what happened, and what he information he can get just by looking at your room.
It's irking, because you stopped having nightmares when you became a queen, because you stopped waking up so suddenly that he was free to just watch you, but now you can't seem to sleep properly—like they resurfaced everything that was supposed to be six feet down like your father and brother.
The reason he's used to handling your hair was because of how intently he watched you; he was claimed so lucky by the order to tend to you, and he's not going anywhere else.
He combs his fingers through your hair to push it back a little before he pulls back slowly to use your bathroom; he's going to tell the order everything during the party and he's going to make sure you remained loved by the rest of the knights before the banquet ends.
hzn ┊ i wrote something abt riddle rosehearts first but it was so hard to write that i went for xiao first since i realized i spun the wheel on what idea goes first and xiao was first. i want to emphasize how your relationship dynamic with him is even if i'm unsure myself, and i'm not a writer who could describe things well so i need ya'll to have an imaginative mind for the both of us T-T
what to know ┊ this contains book 7 spoilers of lilia's dream, major character death, and i don't proofread.
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"The lake lays still, but beware of what stays underneath, when you follow the whispers in the night—then it takes you deep in the waters."
It was the specific words that Silver's father used to tell him when he was a child, warning him to never step foot outside the house at night, and to never follow what sound that calls to his name or any sound in general.
He has no recollection of ever trying to get near in the water, in fear of actually a monster lurking in those rivers even if it was something that Lilia would just say to scare them to celebrate or catch up to the Halloween event.
Rarely does he go home now, however, after becoming a student of Night Ravel College, he has become too busy, since there were dorms present and he has to watch over the heir of Briar Valley with Sebek.
The Sebek that nearly didn't want to escape Malleus' dream after think that it would be better to remain happy where his liege's mother was alive and well—the past where Silver was not around and the past where war was on-going.
"Silver," the prefect whispered after he had froze.
"Right," he muttered, realizing that the sight of home made him reminisce.
Still, they were aimless, they found the owner of the dream, but they don't exactly know what to do with him: Lilia Vanrouge.
The bat Fae who was cast out for leaving Her Majesty Maleanor Draconia in the castle while she fought the Dawn Knight and Henrick's men ended up settling in a house by the woods near a river and was denied access to the egg.
It was exhausting to witness the past without having the power to interfere, the quad knew that after having watched the supposed admired general save the egg from a greedy king, but was belittled and chastised by the nobles of Briar Valley despite his deeds.
Silver watched his father be belittled and banished—the father he loves and admired for his sacrifices and unconditional love.
The dreams of the banished general were rather snippets, ranging from the forest with the undergoing war, to meeting Her Majesty Maleanor, to going to the castle, and to being banished to the cottage.
It was still a question of why these dreams were the ones Malleus were showing, because if he wanted a world where everyone can be in bliss, then he should've showed happier moments—but everyone just witnessed Lilia suffer one problem then another.
"There was truly...!?" Sebek's loud voice exclaimed as Grim yelped at the sight of the lake by the house.
There it was—a creature by the waters—a merfolk it seemed; it was staring with its head down to its eyes out of the water, watching the banished general carrying a large axe inside the house without a care in the world or maybe the future.
After all, in a day, he was entrusted with a last wish and an egg, but he had to leave the egg behind due to the banishment he received for making a said poor decision for following through the queen's orders.
"I assumed it was a joke," Silver responded, confusing the prefect about the context of the situation. "When we would children, father would tell us scary stories at night for his entertainment or to simply... make sure we stay inside the house, though we didn't truly expect there's a living creature in the lake."
"But why would a merfolk be in the lake?" Grim asked, gesturing to the merfolk that seemed to drop down in the lake after observing the banished general.
Sebek raised his hand to rest behind his head as he asked, "Do they not drag humans under the lake and feed on them?"
"I admit it takes skill to be still in the water," Silver commends.
"Is that the kind of story he should be telling a child!?" the prefect seemed to be the only one concerned for the stories that the duo knights have heard.
"Unfortunately so."
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It didn't take long for the shift to dream, much to the nausea of Grim and Sebek though they recovered quickly, but were late to react as the prefect gasped rather loudly to see the merfolk forced out of the water to the dirt of the ground.
"I suppose their relationship was not nice," Silver says, crossing his arms at the sight, feeling his morals clash at the thought they may have to witness the end of a merfolk.
The merfolk looked rather panicked that their hands began moving around, desperately looking like they were trying to communicate by pointing at the tree near the lake and then their head.
It's understandable when Lilia had stabbed their clothing and it ripped while he launched the merfolk out of the water; they look even rather distressed with the dirt clinging on their wet body.
"They're mute..." the prefect whispered as the merfolk looked like they were about to start whining when Lilia just frowned at them.
"You don't speak," the banished general murmured, to which the merfolk nodded feverishly to be understood. "And you didn't come to attack me?"
There was a pause, silence as the merfolk's face scrunched, confused and offended by the assumption before they pointed at the apple by the tree and then slammed their palm on the ground as if to say it an apple fell by the lake and they simply want to.
Thinking it was for him, Lilia grabbed the apple and ate it, prompting the merfolk’s jaw to drop, now offended, dumbfounded, and on the verge of hitting the banished general yet they closed their first instead, having an inkling of what could happen if they acted out.
Silver sighed in relief as the prefect frowned when Lilia grabbed the half-eaten apple to the merfolk, who was trying to get back to the lake since the dirt was clinging to their flesh and tail.
"Your name."
The merfolk looked at the apple, wondering what it was for when Lilia was asking for their name; they dipped their hand in the water before they used their nail to poke holes in the half-finished apple since there wasn't enough dirt for them to write.
They frowned, trying to make sure it was understandable before they tried to crawl back to the banished general with the apple, because they didn't want to be accused of attacking him if they threw it back on his way.
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The dreams were only snippets, so there's no way of telling what happened in between other than assuming, but there was an obvious connection between the banished general and the merfolk—who they found out was actually named [name].
Despite the growing connection, there was one thing in common between the snippets that the quad was seeing; it was that the two only ever meet during night time.
"To put it equally, father is a bat Fae," Silver said, watching the merfolk only stay near the shore in silence while the banished general stays by the tree.
Neither of them really talk—considering that [name] was mute and Lilia could possibly be hesitant to add any more people in his life after what happened, but that part about Lilia was only an assumption.
It also appears that [name] was overly conscious about their appearance, they can stay minutes staring at the same part of their hands, they can spend the silence just massaging their fingers or untangling their hair.
However, more than the both of them, [name] seems to actually be concerned about Lilia as they linger long in the night with him—which Silver was grateful for, because the banished Fae had done nothing but simply linger around, just existing.
"Where do you think they are?" the prefect asked, because tonight, [name] doesn't seem to be around after they spent hours observing Lilia the night before.
"If we assume that the tree is their food source, it's natural they moved," Sebek said in a rational sense. "No one would want to stay when someone stronger has gotten their territory."
"I thought they were... somewhat closer," Silver said, feeling quite disappointed or even saddened that Lilia was left all alone to deal with his own feelings.
In how Silver thinks, he wants to say that being with someone in silence is better than having to deal with everything alone; this comes from him assuming he was undeserving of his father's love, but having Sebek save him in a literal and in another sense was what pulled him out.
"Maybe they are," Grim said, laying down in boredom of what was happening especially when the nights were usually so quiet with just crickets and nothing more. "Just take me out of here, this place is creepy."
"It is quite eerie, this wasn't how I remembered it," Silver comments, looking to the side to face Grim, but only to notice that the still lake wasn't so still anymore—it was rippling.
"They're back," the prefect said, looking rather relieved as well.
The merfolk had a clothing that was tied in a knot that they threw it on the ground making it squirm and jump around, and Grim knew the scent, he sat up and asked, "Fish!?"
"They eat their own kind!?" Sebek asked rather loudly.
"It's for father."
There's a feeling of awe in Silver as he watched the merfolk, who was so conscious of their body, struggle to get up to the ground to simply lift themselves to the shore to crawl around for any wood.
For the merfolk doing something for a stranger and the prefect asked, "So [name] is... definitely a mermaid then?"
"What else would they be?" Grim asked.
"I don't know," the prefect responded and that made Silver think. "Possibly siren at first, but... they're not depicted so nicely in comparison to mermaids, so... then basing here, [name] is a mermaid."
"Sirens are just as nice as mermaids are, based on the current books of history outside of Briar valley," Sebek said, crossing his arms. "They're usually half birds, but there are now sirens that are the aquatic type that lives with the rest of the people in Coral Sea."
"To depict them now as... eerie or manipulating is basically an old tale now," the other knight said as he watched the merfolk huff at themselves for being unable to start fire.
It wasn't something that Lilia actively questioned when he saw the black licorice in a stick by a fire; he can't help but look amused at the way half of [name]'s head was peeking out as if to see his reaction.
The odor was foul, but it was edible, to say so at least—for him, not for the trio that stood to watch; Grim doesn't watch what he eat, but the humans and the half Fae definitely did and they know it wasn't all that delicious.
However, Silver noted that Lilia looks satisfied with it, because the next day he cut the grass nearby the lake and gave [name] a dirt box to start communicating with him since he was going to start having questions.
There's a bit more information about [name] now, and apparently they live incredibly far from their peers because they likes watching human behavior up close but the lake was connected to an ocean; they write that they haven't seen anyone for a few years.
It was most likely because of the war.
The house Lilia lives in and the lake that [name] was in was still by the borders of Briar Valley after all; he didn't want to live too far, and a lot of people have evacuated because of Henrick and his crew.
"They're so cooperative," Silver mentioned despite having clashing ideas with Sebek that [name] was rather commendable for giving information to the banished general about his new home.
The prefect comments, "It's like they're the rent-person or something."
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"Sir Vanrouge, I apologize for calling you here so suddenly... I'm glad you came."
Silver and the rest stood on another snippet of the dream; it's feels like it's been years since they watched watching the interaction between the merfolk and his father that seeing Briar Valley again was rather odd.
The dreams seems to be showing some useless information, but no doubt important to Lilia, though there's no deciphering what they meant as their mindless conversation ranges from the weather, children, Faes, how cold the water was, what to eat for dinner, the color of Lilia's eyes, to the sun rising.
"It's been ten years, Baur," the bat Fae responded.
Apparently as well, it was brief but the quad had the ability to move around—and Silver discovered while going around near the dreamer was that the bat Fae has been receiving postcards from Baur but hasn't truly replied.
It wasn't that Lilia didn't have the time to reply, but he just chose not to and he didn't find any relevance that he would have to talk about it to [name].
In fact, Silver knows he doesn't really say much either and he's left to pick the pieces of what his father meant; there's a lot of things his father didn't tell him—and Malleus for that matter.
If it weren't for the dreams, none of the duo knights would ever know that their liege was late when he was being hatched and that the love of his grandmother could not even suffice.
"Shrimps."
[name] wrote on the dirt box with a stick as they placed the cloth they retrieved from the previous general years ago from their first few months of eating.
They don't know what's happening, but the prefect knows that they're at least aware that something was rather amiss—especially with the way Lilia was going around carrying a map as if to look for information.
It's important, and Lilia would have to leave; the quad knew that, but then the question lingers, what would happen to the merfolk that he build connection with?
Realizing they weren't getting his attention, they used a rock to smoothen the surface of the dirt box, and then they wrote something with a stick before they started splashing around to get his attention.
"Lilia."
He placed the map down to turn to [name], who smiled a little but almost hesitantly before they pushed the shrimps a little towards his way.
"I got distracted," he speaks, moving to place the map rolled near the cloth-filled shrimps to start smoking the shrimps and [name] then frowned.
"Let me help."
"You are"
"The nicest I've known."
"Dragons," Lilia speaks, rolling the map open as [name] looked over curiously. "Where have you heard of them?"
They looked rather troubled; they shook their head, immediately as if to tell him that they don't really have much information about dragons and they rarely ever saw one.
"Briar."
[name] rested their elbows on the shore and tilted the dirt box for the banished general to read; well, of course, Briar Valley was known to have different types of Faes and a dragon Fae ruler.
"What else?"
"Sighting Shaftlands."
"Dragon turns invisible."
"Shaftlands is vast," the bat Fae commented, his voice rather agitated and Silver knew why.
The rulers of Shaftlands by far had been kind, however, the place they rule was rather big; it would take too long to look for a specific city that talks about a dragon sighting.
While Silver was focused on the current scene, his previous words about [name]'s cooperation rather sparked something for Sebek to see the merfolk in a different light now.
Call it desperation, but doesn't Lilia Vanrouge trust [name]?
"Fluer City."
"I'll come with."
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[name]'s words have sparked hope to the two knights despite knowing that their liege would still be hatched in a later time, at least they have a merfolk to be with them.
They seemed to have traveled through the water systems of Fleur City much to their disgust or discomfort, but Silver was glad for their dedication because his father didn't go through the entire ordeal alone.
It was easy for the merfolk to act oblivious about what's happening; they didn’t want to touch on anything about Lilia unless he spoke first, but they would write words on the ground or with matches on stones about words like they knew what he was going through.
“Their dragon was a mascot,” Lilia said, sitting by the bridge of the city where lamps were the only ones illuminating the scenery. “Mascots… Where do they even get the idea?”
[name] was quite irked at the fae for being up the bridge and they had to crank their head up to him just to be able to look at him as he speaks; they can’t even write a response because the water was low and the sides of it were cemented.
Silver was still thinking about the significance of the dream when Grim points out, “[name]’s nails look like stones.”
“Blot stones,” the prefect mutters, remembering the time of Grim nearly not coming back from the Island of Woe. “But he’s right.”
The merfolk wasn't truly able to be with the bat Fae for a long time, because Lilia left them at one point to gather information separately from him for a faster search—which Sebek found to be a better strategy.
Until they were caught by Baur, that is since they were deemed suspicious in a way they've been swimming around the lake and asking people in the shore about dragons, because the Royal family and the other people were quite sensitive to the information about the heir.
They haven't gathered that much and he wasn't so nice to humans considering what happened with the previous ruler, but [name] was not human, they were a merfolk—that cannot shift their body to be a human.
Nervously gesturing around won't get the trust for Baur, and Sebek rather finds it commendable that they won't even mention the last name of a renowned general (to Baur's eyes).
Like Sebek, Silver thought, Baur kept talking even while the merfolk was in a large container for being suspicious; [name] could still hear, and they definitely caught up on their own.
"Oh no..." the prefect murmured as Grim shrieks at the noise that sounded like Lucius scratching its nails on the chalkboard, but mostly because [name] was ruining their nails trying to communicate with Baur.
By scratching their nails on the glass, but the prefect and Grim wouldn't know that mermaids cannot simply just sharpen their nails; they don't have that ability, not even in the written history.
Grim can do that too, considering he seems to have the anatomy of a cat, he can sharpen his nails or go scratching on the couches that Heartslabyul people have—but [name] was an aquatic creature.
"A siren," Baur speaks, adding to the discomfort in [name]'s face.
"Love = Hatch?"
It's not known why they cooperate so well with Lilia or why they seem to have mercy towards Faes, because their hearing is rather loud and if they just opened their mouth to sing—without proper ear coverage or preparation—it would've been over.
The prefect of the ramshackle was not from this world and Grim was simply unaware, so it's confusing why Silver and Sebek appeared to be much more surprised than they are.
Baur appeared much more alert as he asked, "How old are you?"
The siren looked uncomfortable, hesitating to tell as Silver explained to the prefect and Grim about what exactly was about sirens was so bad centuries ago from today.
Someone had made a song that could be used to steal the remaining or 20 years of a person's life, while the stigma with the sirens in the future would be good, it wasn't so good right now considering the song was still well-known, making everyone wary of sirens.
If the siren wants to steal more than 20 years, they would have to sing again—and considering [name] hasn't aged for the past 10 years seems to be abnormal because she retained a certain age from the aid of using the song.
Some sirens use the song later than their forties or sixties, and the first time they use the song will be the first tie will be their eternal appearance, and [name] looked like they used the song in their nineteens.
"...hundred something."
"It's... sweet," the prefect murmurs.
Sebek huffed, trying to keep his beating heart in a stable condition after knowing that [name]'s species was because it's usual to be careful—yet Silver cared little.
He whispered, "If this is father's memory, is this an imagination or did father hear their voice? In fact, father is..."
Lilia is in the Shaftlands in Fleur City to search for a dragon that could turn invisible because of [name]'s information that there was a sighting of it before, yet the snippet was not by him—it's with [name] and Baur.
The people who are not from the original dream should not be so far from the owner of the dream, because that would require vast imagination.
"We're of the same age."
"Sir Vanrouge," Baur speaks as [name] sinks to the lowest of the container even though it was incredible clear and they could be seen in any perspective of the glass.
"Let them go, Baur," Lilia frowned, the situation only adding to the frustration before he knocks on the glass. "Where else...!? I went around Fleur City doesn't remember any dragon! They don't know anything!"
There seems to be much more important matters, it seems, considering that [name] swam up a little to face Lilia despite their troubles of being founded out that they were a siren.
Lilia indeed have heard their voice since they were conversing they responded, "No! It wasn't entirely useless, it must've been a hundred years ago sighting in Fleur City. I don't know what you're looking for, but some of them said that there's a valley on the opposite from here and legends says there's a dragon there."
The bat Fae's face rather scowled, temper short as he—in Silver's words—gently—banged his palm on the glass because they were rushing for information and they can only rely on gossips.
"You trust their words?" Baur questioned, sounding rather accusingly.
"How long do you have?" the bat Fae asked.
[name] didn't seem to take offense or feel too saddened about the information as they said, "I have 200 hundred more years I think, Henrick's men kept coming to the lake, I'll use it to help you."
"Great, have [name] scour the books," the bat Fae said, moving past the container the siren was on the go inside Blackscale Castle where the egg was being incubated. "Tell Lady Maleficia to hide them."
"But Sir Vanrouge—"
"Lilia! After the valley, try going to Harveston, there's something there too I heard...!" [name] tried to add further information. "If... the—there's also Scalding Lands, they didn't have a dragon but they have good fortune tellers!"
"We don't have time for fortune tellers!" Baur said making [name] match their face to Lilia's scowl.
"You don't know that," they replied. "We're taking all our chances, better something than nothing."
"At least their views align," the prefect says, smiling a little though confused. "...but you two don't seem to know about [name] despite this contribution."
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Maleficia indeed did hide [name] in the most unexpected place but incredibly well protected—they're inside the same castle that Malleus was on and they're only sitting around and reading despite their aching elbows and drying tail.
They tend to talk to themselves or the egg quite a lot, and even reads the books they are reading about dragons to Malleus himself; Lilia often comes by each two years or more to talk to Malleus before leaving again.
"...There's nothing else, Lilia," [name] muttered, having read the books that were given to them but it's lacking the information they need. "What... what are we looking for even...?"
The goal was to hatch Malleus and it's been a hundred years, but there's little to no progress on what to do; it's the first a dragon had no parents to hatch it and there's littler information about dragons themselves.
Lilia was just as lost as [name] was, but he didn't want to lose hope, and the rest from outside his dream would know considering that Malleus was hatched in the future.
"You killed Henrick's men, didn't you?" he asked, sitting down beside [name] as they soaked their tail on the water that Baur brought for them while they sat on a chair. "What song was it?"
"You're exhausted," [name] murmurs, not wanting to entertain anyone about the song they're trying to desperately hide, feeling queasy. "You're just... really tired, Lilia... Don't start talking about this."
"I heard you sing for Malleus," he said, causing [name] to rewire their thoughts, his previous words changing from something sad to something sweet.
The scene was rather too boring for Grim since they've been in the dream forever yet nothing was happening, by that he meant there was no battles since forever and Sebek can only applaud the duo for their dedication.
the prefect whispered, "...What are they, exactly?"
Silver knows his biological father was the Dawn Knight and Queen Leah, however the current guardian—or the person that helped him grow to whom he was now—was Lilia Vanrouge.
If by chance, [name] and Lilia were something, then maybe in the future times, Lilia has someone to rely on; it's odd that he didn't get to meet them, but if Lilia had traveled a lot then so must have [name]—he wasn't completely in the dark, perhaps he didn't just catch up.
He knows better that these were just memories of Lilia Vanrouge, and that [name] wasn't in the future; if [name] was, then they would be in the lake, living together instead of so far apart.
"I don't know."
"I'm not singing for you, that's basically courting you," [name] replied, frowning towards Lilia. "Mermaids can't dedicate songs, not even Sirens because that means something special for them, didn't you at least hear about that while traveling?"
"But you sing for Malleus?"
"Don't be like that," they replied, sighing, but they smile a little. "Sirens could be internally bounded, it's basically like marriage when they sing for someone, but children don't know how to bind and cannot bind—they're innocent creatures."
A hundred years snippets went fast and there's no way to tell how close [name] and Lilia was, Silver's left guessing what happened in between but it's tender; he can at least tell his father's relationship with the siren wasn't fragile nor was it banters.
He comes to the Blackscale castle for Malleus, but at the same time, he was coming home to [name] in a sense; it sounds delusional the more Silver processes it, and he was already so satisfied with Lilia as his father—perhaps it won't be much to wish Lilia to be happier.
"Bind us," Lilia replied.
"You're out of your mind," [name] immediately shut it down, frowning, in disbelief of his impulsive words. "You're exhausted, Lilia. Ask me again when Malleus hatched."
"Maybe there's something after all," the prefect said as Sebek shrieked so loudly, he cannot believe something like this had happened and that Lilia loved someone that even hid their own species.
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Lilia's happiest moments was the time Malleus was born.
All the wondering Silver has been thinking was finally solved as he can hear his father's sobs from the relief on his shoulders; the reason to why the dream that Lilia had was filled with suffering.
The dream was filled with suffering and heavy choices were made on the way, Lilia fought in the war, suffered injuries, and lost people in his life all so could the egg would hatch.
"I never knew my liege's birth was such an incredible event, not even books in Briar Valley in history could chronicled this," Sebek sobbed himself as the prefect looked away to avoid crying. "Why did grandfather never share such an awe-inspiring tale with me?"
"Vanrouge! you've done us all a great service in hatching His Highness," a mist-looking entity says, which was considered to be a noble senate of Briar Valley. "His companion is doing well healing those whom are injured as well!"
Right, [name] was singing for the guards that were injured because prior to the hatching, Malleus was crying and striking people with lightnings when he was still in the egg.
The dark-scaled creature blinks as the quad felt their world spin, the entire world they stand in looking disorientated as Lilia whispered, "Well...? Good?"
"Come, you must present yourself and His Highness to Her Majesty."
"It's a miracle! You're a true hero!"
"...A hero?" Lilia whispered, further having his head crack in confusion as so are the people who jumped in his dream, furthermore, his voice cracked. "No..."
'Vanrouge! How dare you lay you and your companion lay your filthy hands upon the royal heir!?"
"A dragon egg hatched with the magic of a bat and a siren!? This is a scandal to end all scandals!"
"What's going on!?" Sebek asked loudly because everything had started swirling. "The world's getting all disorientated, and the senators are acting like different people!"
"I think father is... realizing this is a dream," Silver whispered, looking down, not feeling well as well from all the disorientation. "Father... was never met with felicitations."
Grim is whining in pain, and wanting to hurl from the way the dream swirls albeit too much, but his groans of pain were nothing in comparison to the sudden loud screeching nearby, causing everyone to flinch.
— S C R E E C H !
It was Malleus this time as Sebek looked back to see where the first screech came from, but to see [name] being held down by the guards they healed because of the senate, hissing.
"Oh, our poor prince..." the senate whispered. "Not only did he lose his parents due to their incompetent guard, but he was also infused with impure magic."
"This is your punishment, Vanrouge! Guards, take the siren's tongue—!"
"Stop! We'll leave, alright!?" Lilia yelled, rather loudly, not wanting to fight even if his body wasn't stuck on the ground or even if he could've done something. "We'll leave!"
The prefect held on Silver's sleeve, pointing at the side as a green smoke started to appear, alarming the duo knights and Grim, knowing who it could possibly be.
Just the horns was enough to tell who it was; it was hard for other people to control the blot, but Malleus seemed to have no problems being able to handle it as he smiled towards them with a greeting.
"There you are," he said. 'I've finally found you, Lilia."
"That voice... Raverne? How are you back?" Lilia asked, confused more than he was hopeful, his eyes going from Malleus to [name], which Silver noticed. "No, you have Maleanor's horns, who are you!?"
"I never knew that this happened," Malleus murmured to himself, looking around at the scene he can't remember—from seeing his small self in the arms of Baur to seeing [name] being held down. "How dare those doddering old fools treat you that way... and grandmother! How could she hide the truth from me all this time!?"
"It wasn't her choice, Malleus! I asked her to!" Lilia replied rather quickly despite not knowing what was happening. "If you'd known the truth—but Malleus... is an infant..."
"Don't think about anything, Lilia," Malleus speaks, smiling a little, his voice turning calmer so Lilia could not question anything more. "You don't have to suffer any more pain. What dream do you want...?"
"Wait, stop," Silver whispered, but his gaze not directed at the way Malleus looked at Lilia—rather, at [name] who looked utterly confused but everything proceeded as they are. "Stop!"
Malleus' head whips back at the loud screech as [name] was released, covering their mouth with their hands much to the way Lilia's heart dropped and Sebek paled.
Their hands were stained with dark colored liquid as they shed tears, but didn't hope to say anything lest the wound worsens—the image, however, was erased quickly before the prefect or Grim could even see.
Malleus murmured, "So this is why you weren't bounded, they lost the ability to sing. These old fools...!!"
"Father!" Silver yelled, trying to shake Lilia out of the trance of his image of [name] though everything was already disorientated and wrapped.
They lost their tongue, and it's a crucial moment to him to the point Lilia can't imagine [name] ever speaking after facing the senators of Briar Valley; he gained as much as he lost.
He cannot create any image past that and [name]'s figure just disappeared much to the slight disappointment Malleus felt as he asked, "Silver, you again, you truly are a poor sleeper, you still resist me?"
The dream snippet changed back to the forest of where Lilia had lived after being banished, making Malleus blink himself, knowing the place from the inside.
"We will never give up!" Silver responded, attempting to ignore the way that there was a crib inside the house with a wailing younger version of Malleus.
"You were born from the love of so many, my liege," Sebek responded as the prefect nodded together with Grim at the same time as [name] burst through the doors of the house. "It's not right for you to become an enemy hated by all the world!"
[name] still tripped, however, having gotten used to legs and they went through everyone present within the house like they simply just did not exist, they were trying to get to the younger version of Malleus, large parts of their arms already turning dark.
They still got to the child, however, smiling so fondly as they made sure to steady themself before carrying the half-transformed infant.
"That's why we'll break this, whatever it takes," Silver declared as Lilia opened the house to the house, staring right at them and not through. "Malleus, we'll crush your blessing!"
"That... sounds about right," Lilia spoke. "My pupil is really well-spoken."
"Born from love," the prefect murmurs, looking back at the spot [name] was with the younger version of Malleus. "But what happened?"
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It's over, the entire ordeal, at least.
Ignihyde played such a big part, assisting the rest in jumping dreams with Silver, Sebek, Grim and the prefect; Malleus has lost half of one of his horn thus his magic had lessened significantly as it was a fatal spot, yet he didn't seem to care so much.
Dancing with the dead, however, was a different thing—never had Lilia felt quite afraid that the memory of the dead could come true as he sees Maleanor smile in front of him and Malleus; he knows her temper and how she's like.
"You should go, Lilia," Malleus whispered quietly.
He may never be able to call Lilia his father, but he was still loved, and he was glad to be able to bestow Silver a present of what he wanted for his contributions—Lilia's last name.
Lilia looked at the palace where he found Silver, abandoned and covered in thorns was it at first, but now it was an event place for the people who wanted to celebrate or simply eat like Grim.
[name] was there with the crowd of memories; they had lost the ability to sing and couldn't get more years, and Lilia knew that they wouldn't dare steal more lives even if they were able to sing.
He still can't help the clench in his heart even if his memories came back, because he just saw [name] in his dreams and everything felt so real.
"Henrick's father," Lilia started, not looking a bit too happy but he smiles a little, bittersweet, Malleus supposed. "He gifted them and passed them around supposedly as a heirloom."
"Is that so...?" Malleus murmured as Silver stands by the side, talking and bidding his farewells to his biological family.
"They got so frightened that they sang that song as their last resort," the bat Fae continued, thinking it's best for Malleus to know the rest of the story. "Because that song is painless for sirens unlike their usual offensive songs."
"Father," Silver speaks, moving close to the two. "May I listen?"
Lilia nodded and said, "They said that Queen Leah was the last person they healed with their song, and she helped them out when she grew up, and [name] had hated the Royal Family who acted like Henrick and his father."
"Ohh, look here~" Floyd said, leering over the siren. "Jade, look~"
"Floyd, we don't tolerate this kind of behavior towards adults," his brother twin responded strictly as he crossed his arms. "Especially not to a fellow siren."
"Kind of surprising you could tell," the prefect of Ramshackle said. "They don't look like their age, they're... perhaps... three hundred years old."
"Ehh... It looks like Lala-chan."
"Perhaps they find you kind, father," Silver says as [name]'s memory took Yuu by the hand and began dancing.
"I was no different," the bat Fae sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "You saw, didn't you? I was not exactly at my kindest."
"But they claim you're the kindest," Grim cuts in, standing on his two paws as he looked at the trio with crossed arms.
"Fufufu, now, now," Lilia laughed. "Who did you hear that from?"
"[name] did, no?" Silver asked briefly remembering the dirt box they had to write in when hiding their species. "Before you two went to Fleur City."
"Aren't they just sweet?" the bat Fae asked despite not needing a question, but he steps quite away for a little to where the prefect. "I'll leave for now."
"They are made from how I remember them, Lilia," Malleus speaks, just before [name] smiled at the sight of the bat Fae, coming over just to hug him and spin him around.
The people from Malleus' memory from Lilia's dream didn't really talk, but they move on their own without assistance—they were like the spirits or souls of the dead—or maybe even the ghost inside Ramshackle.
They also didn't last long, but the bat Fae was starting to find [name]'s movements rather odd yet tried to drown in the bliss of being spun around or thrown during the dance.
"The music ended," Lilia whispered. "Malleus won't know, but you're actually louder than this... really cheeky too."
He enjoyed himself a lot, and he cannot grieve again, especially since it's been a long time already; he misses [name], but his grieving days were already over.
Malleus was going to dismiss the memories now, and while so, Lilia tried his best to memorize their features, except for the fact that [name] smiled—the slight part of their lips revealed a tongue.
They have a tongue, which Malleus shouldn't have a recollection of; he never even saw them until it was cut off and [name] never opened their mouth around him when he was an infant.
"I found you."
"Found—" Sebek spoke up first but was cut off as Malleus dismissed them before he gets the chance to process.
"Not even my parents spoke," Silver said, feeling quite surprised as Grim shuddered, feeling quite scared.
"Was it... a ghost!?"
Lilia was still standing surprised, blinking as his hand remained where it was earlier before he chuckled rather loudly to the point he nearly shed a tear.
Azul claps, trying to get his chance with the people of Diasomnia before he says, "Such interesting dance, if sirens interest you, we have a late recruit in Octavinelle that might quench your curiosity."
"Father..." Silver whispered, feeling a little off by the prefect of Octavinelle.
"As you know, sirens are now living equally with us," Azul said, holding onto his staff. "Though I don't mean to be rude, but I just thought you'd like to see our performer this Friday evening."
"Oh, Azul, you didn't even mention their name," Jade said with a close lipped smile. "But [name] look forward to seeing Diasomnia in Mostro Lounge one day."
"That's just interesting, isn't it?" Lilia asked, smiling a little politely though his bats seem to be flying closer to him to intimidate. "What an odd time to know that name. Who told you about it?"
Because [name] was never in any history books, just known for their tendency to drag people in the lake and steal years of their life.
"That's interesting, Lala-chan basically never met Flapjack Octopus-chan but they know how to push him," Floyd speaks, adding to Azul's nervousness of being attacked by any of the Diasomnia members, especially not Malleus. "Lala-chan is so odd... They hit their head and suddenly they know them."
"Father, I believe this is an odd case," Silver says, standing by Lilia. "However, the prefect mentioned something similar when we were in your and their dream... and I believe... you should try."
"Sebek?" Lilia asked for a second opinion since he was also in the dreams of other people.
"It's worth something," Sebek said.
"I believe the song would be dedicated to you, Lilia-san," Jade said, smiling with teeth bared this time. "They said that should be enough for you to go."
"How cheeky."
hzn ┊ i cried when silver cried during book 7, like what do you mean you weren't love and feeling like you don't deserve it? it's so sad… familial love makes me cry faster and harder than any romantic story. i was crying abt diasomnia for days.
Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 5
— Riddle became a dorm leader on his first year.
Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 8
— Riddle said that he confiscated exam study guides, made by Azul, in Heartslabyul.
— He thinks that Azul couldn't compete with him in terms of academics because Azul has too much on his plate, while he devotes himself in his studies.
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 17
— According to Leona, Riddle can cast a spell so fast and that he could lead a group and fight on the front lines with his fire power, but sees it as a double-edge sword because of his stamina and his temper but he has a confidence to be a leader.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 20
— He started taking special lessons when he was 3
— When his mother was pregnant, she was already preparing all necessary materials to ensure Riddle will grow up to be an exceptional mage.
— Riddle is not sure whether he is a prodigy or if he earned his talents because of how he grew up.
— He studied in a private school when he was young and wasn't able to skip grades despite his intelligence because it wasn't a 'norm' and his school didn't allow it.
— He also said that he saw no point for him to skip grades either because he needs to be 24 years old to be a medical mage.
— He originally was supposed to be a medical mage once he graduates, but he MAY be having second thoughts because he developed an interest in law after becoming a housewarden.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 22
— Riddle's cape can cover two people and block a bit of light.
Chapter 69
— Riddle hasn't taken his magical device licensure exam.
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LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 13
— Leona's Unique Magic: King's Roar, can turn ice to dust.
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 25
— Leona has a refined palate, he doesn't like dry, stale rations.
— He drinks sports drink.
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RUGGIE BUCCHI
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 21
— Leona says that he doesn't think Ruggie's magic is as good, but he's aware of what he is lacking and doesn't hesitate to use Leona to make up for it; Ruggie doesn't see it as anything shameful.
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JACK HOWL
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 21
— Leona views Jack as someone pretentious, and says that Jack doesn't have what it takes to lead yet so Jack comes to Leona when things gets too out of hand.
— Leona finds Jack's honesty adorable.
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AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Chapter 66, Tower 2, Part 5
— Azul became a dorm leader at his second year.
Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 8
— Azul considers Riddle as an academic rival.
— His overall ranking often goes from top 2 to top 10
— Even after book 3, he still has his backroom 'consultations'.
— Riddle said that Jade mentioned Azul goes off campus on day offs under the pretense of market research.
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 17
— According to Leona, Azul is a quick thinker and knows how to put himself in an advantageous position. Leona assumes Azul struggled living in land, but Leona says that Azul sees it as a strength.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 17
— He (possibly with Floyd and Jade as well) were trained in Sunshine Lands (a place where a prince of Sunshine Land married a princess from the Coral Sea and was founded by the mermaid princess) and said that he couldn't find a 'catch' in the organization and he put in an application there as soon as he was accepted in Night Raven College.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 20
— Azul started learning the basics of magic when he was 8, and he was taught by his mother and grandmother who were both mages.
— His family was not entirely pressuring him in studies thus him being lax about it until he was in middle school.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 22
— He was raised in the deep sea so his eyes could adjust to the darkness.
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 25
— Azul doesn't feel upset when fighting against Ortho and Idia's dreams because he knows well enough that someone has to make a sacrifice to make it come true
— One of his dreams is to be a valedictorian, opening a second Mostro Lounge branch, starting a delivery business, selling tableware, running a hotel, and getting into the leisure industry.
Chapter 69
— Azul has never driven a magical wheel.
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FLOYD LEECH
Chapter 67, Tower 3, Part 17
— Azul said that Floyd often forgets to take his doses to keep his human form (transfiguration potion), and says that it's normal for him to hear Floyd saying "Hey, my ears are fins again!", or "My fingers grew some webbin'!"
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JAMIL VIPER
Chapter 67, Tower 2, Part 25
— Leona calls Jamil: Snake.
— Jamil admits to Leona that he always judged people around him as stupid, incompetent, lazy, or good-for nothing, but says that that was just what he wants to believe. He admits he has more to grow.
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VIL SCHOENHEIT (FT. ROOK)
Chapter 66, Tower 1, Part 4
— He can separate his feelings and duties as a dorm leader and his personal thoughts and emotions.
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 16
— When Vil first got in Night Ravel College, he started turning down long-term acting offers to focus on studies, but had to act in some plays and movies because they got sequels.
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 17
— Vil first met Rook on the school gardens.
— Vil never gave Rook the time of his day but Rook kept reaching out to him and pointing out things Vil internally chides himself for.
— He didn't catch up to what Rook talked about for five hours about his own play.
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-854
— He is curious what he would look like if he took a form of a phantom because he thinks phantoms are the manifestations of their greatest desire.
— He remembers what his phantom looked like.
— He admits to unconsciously thinking about beauty about being youthful and may have feared aging.
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 25
— Vil acknowledges that the Shroud brothers wanted 'normalcy' but was willing to destroy their dreams for his own.
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ROOK HUNT
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 20
— Rook found the Mirror's sorting agreeable thus stayed in Savanaclaw, but thought he would learn more about 'beauty' in Pomefiore faster so he transferred.
— He talked to Vil about his decision in transferring from Savanaclaw to Pomefiore, but Vil couldn't talk him out of it.
— According to Vil, Rook stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered Pomefiore because his hair was long, thick, unkempt, and he also had freckles in his cheeks and nose.
— He never bothered using sunscreen or skin care so his cheeks and nose were always bright red.
— He would go all-over the place in sweatpants with frayed hems or jeans with torn knees, but would fix his attire a little when going to an operas and concerts with dress codes.
— Vil once picked out an outfit for him because Vil believed that a beautiful stage deserves beautiful audiences.
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EPEL FELMIER
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-859
— Rook said that Leona praised Epel's broom/flyting skills in the club.
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GRIM
Chapter 66, Tower 3, Part 9
— Grim is 70cm.
— Epel said that Ace and Deuce told him that Grim hates his nails being trimmed.
Chapter 67, Tower 1, Part 19: PTM-735
— He has long nails.
— He often scratches on Heartslabyul's couches.
hzn ┊ i'm only finding out about this now while i'm reading the masterlist here, since the wiki hasn't updated yet and i skipped book 6 in the eng game, because i used a translator to read book 6 in the jap before it came out in eng. some information are already well-known and some are things i already knew, but i decided to take note about anything i thought was noteworthy!
✦ ┊ missing neige's texts, but mostly missing grim.
what to know ┊ this includes mentions of yuu's attachment to grim, brief mention of book 5 and 6 events, and slight yandere things.
parts ┊ part one, part two, part three (you are here), part four, and headcanons
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You can remember how you clung to the tiny hope that your team would win despite the incident with Vil and how it left a physical impact on all of you, but mentally for both you and Rook, who appeared to be in a better state than you.
Kalim said before that Neige and the seven dwarves’ music couldn’t get out of his mind, because the song was targeted for children to listen and adults to reminisce on; it had the arrangements of a children’s song in Shaftlands.
The glances you threw at Vil and how you followed him and—you sighed and sunk in your bed, your head splitting from the emotional ride you went through in just one day, but you had to process a lot of things today.
Royal Sword Academy won, Rook cried because he met Neige, and you remembered the way Neige spared him a minute or two of his time before quickly going to you, clinging on your arm as if he was a lost animal—or maybe one or two minutes is enough to talk with someone and you were just overthinking it.
“What’s wrong with Neige?” you can’t help but think.
When they won, you felt your dislike towards him coming back despite the competition being fair—not exactly fair since most of the people voted on their own schools because they want to support it and not because they think the dance or song was good.
Even though you wanted to cry at that loss, you held back because Epel and Kalim started crying themselves and you ended up laughing at them for it despite your own frustration.
Everyone was surprised at how Rook got quiet after meeting Neige, but turns out his tears were gathering in his eyes and he introduced himself as the #0000002 member of Neige’s fanclub; you weren’t exactly surprised as you remembered how he said ‘I wish I was you’ when you nearly got in a rumor of having a date with Neige.
Now about Neige, where do you even start?
It wasn’t obsessive, the way he’s all up on you, at least you think it wasn’t, it was just plain overbearing, especially when he texts you each time he has a break, tells you all the stories of his practice, chats you about meeting up without specifications where and when, and then clinging to you in real life.
Still, you felt like disliking him for something that you could most likely change by communicating with him was not justified, at least you should try to, you thought, perhaps tomorrow, since the cultural fair was two days.
You paused your thoughts when you gazed at the mirror and remembered that you promised the big-eared creature that you will find your friend to show if he can see Mickey in the photo you took of him earlier.
You scooched to the edge of the bed and went to look for Grim, not knowing how your stress levels and mental state will worsen with how you will see your friend, whom you are attached to, protecting a stone and will physically harm you in the process.
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Neige looked at the paper bag by his table and sighed again, prompting the dwarves to pat his back again and trying to comfort him for forgetting to give you the gift he planned on; they were swarmed with reporters, his fame held him back in meeting you.
He sinks on the small table, listening to the words of the dwarves as they rub his back or try to point out the features they saw on you earlier at the cultural fair and some bringing up the trophy they received from the competition.
Not only did he fail to give you the paper bag, he also failed to bring it in the first place; he wasn’t even able to say goodbye because you retreated to Ramshackle dorm so early and the school was about to close. He really didn’t have a choice.
You were not even texting him right now; he always had to be the first to reach out.
Was it hopeless after all? To chase after you, because you always sabotage yourself by thinking if he was simply being nice to a person who helped him from falling back when someone pushed him. Did he accidentally return the favor when you called on him for help and he broke the rules for you?
He didn’t even see the cameras directed at him or people who caught the scene on video and posted it on socials, but he definitely saved it, moreover, he liked it; the only time he hesitated on actually liking it was when you seemed to be troubled over the fact.
When it got taken down permanently by your friend, he had never been so relieved that he had saved it prior, but even without that video, he surely still remembers the incident and the feeling of your hands as he held it and happily asks for your time.*
“There’s still tomorrow…” Shelpie whispers as his head leans on Neige’s shoulder, slowly dozing off and waking up repeatedly.
“We can visit Night Raven College tomorrow,” Dominic says, having forgotten to remind the human about the paper bag as well because of how nervous he felt since it was competition day today. “I’m sure [name] will be happy to receive it.”
“How would you know? You don’t know them like I do.”
Neige looked up and smiled; he had gotten accustomed to his thoughts by now. It’s a reflection of his feelings and innermost self, but he had grown to accept it already as a part of him—because those thoughts were because of concern.
Ironically enough, he himself doesn’t even know how you would react to the gift, but he visions your flustered expression upon receiving it and hoping—hoping that you’d hold his hand and openly express your gratitude.
Though it would be lovely if you were to give him more than he invisions.
“Yes, there’s still tomorrow!” the ever joyful dwarf says, smiling brightly. “We can help you look for her!”
“Or… or you can ask your other friend,” Timmy says.
“Ah, Vi…” the lovestrucked student murmured, his eyes looking wide and innocent as he looked at Timmy as if being enlightened by his suggestion. “I hate him.”
“Vil Schoenheit,” Dominic said in thought. “It would be nice to, especially with how he seemed close with [name]-san. I think he would be able to help you.”
“Help? Help,” his heart felt numb and empty as he smiled while looking at Dominic, because when did that model ever help Neige when it came to you? When the model visited the front of his dressing room, did that model actually go to give him the drink or flaunt the concern you had for him?
“I—ah—I think so too!” Snick chimes in but nearly sneezing in the process of talking so Dominic handed him a handkerchief.
Neige remembered the amount of glances you sent Vil’s way and it was less than the seconds of glances you gave him. The way your obvious concern for the model was there, and it’s suffocating to think that the model seemed to look at you fondly.
It was tolerable, the dwarves’ liking towards you, because they had no ulterior motive unlike the always-ranked-second model; the one you were with when he dozed off after meeting a certain fan who wanted to be looked at straight in the eyes.
“It would be good! I’ll give him a chat… or I can ask [name]-san myself!” the ebony haired student smiled brightly as he sat up properly, reaching for his phone and nearly knocking off the paper bag in the process. "Sending a letter to R might take too long…"
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For hours from when Neige slept with a racing heart to when he woke up happily, expecting a reply after sending it during dinnertime and now he woke up to breakfast, because you usually reply in between; he knows you sleep later than he does.
There was no response from you.
Still, he hurried to dress up in a casual outfit since he didn’t need to wear a uniform because he currently wasn’t representing the school for anything—he was just there for you, and possibly needing the help of anyone he sees first for you.
It took him hours to sit down and perfect his appearance in front of a mirror, waking up Dominic and the other dwarves because of how the contour stick kept falling off due to how much he repeated the lines on his face.
All that time for preparation and leaving without the dwarves to go ‘early’ to meet you alone without them; all of that just to be met with a redhead that firmly told him that you were not feeling well to meet anyone or to be outside at all.
Riddle Rosehearts, familiar—no, Neige knew the name because this was another person that greeted you nicely at that one call, and a person that respected you, but doesn’t this dorm leader seem to be closer to you than he was?
Ace and Deuce were also walking by when they saw from the second floor that Riddle was talking to Neige; it was the spade that panicked and ran down because the dorm leader seemed to be losing his patience with Neige’s persistence.
It was just that Riddle didn’t want to disclose what happened to you. The you who was lamenting over the fact you won’t be able to see your companion for hours or days, and the you who had red-shot eyes and scars on the arm.
“Oh, it’s you!” Neige took his attention off the nearly fuming prefect to look at Deuce. “You were with [name]-san near the Beach!”
The beach that nearly had you get a bruise if it hadn’t for this blue haired student that was shouldering most of the hits from imbeciles that wanted a taste of the blastcycle.
“Sorry, cutting in,” Ace was the one to reply, causing Riddle to feel an ick that it was Ace who replied instead of Deuce, who was being talked to. “Are you looking for the prefect? [name]’s not doing well right now… they need a lot lot of rest, but if you need something to tell them, you can text them instead.”
“I’ve been doing just that, but for some reason…” Neige says, but he stopped before he could say that you stopped replying.
Why did this person recommend texting you as if you were capable of replying? He would never be able to understand it if you replied to everyone but him.
“Ah, you see, [name] is feeling unwell today,” Ace said, causing Riddle to shoot him a look, a warning for him not to reveal more than he knows. “They might be resting, it’d really help if you send them texts so they won’t miss anything you wanna tell them when they wake up.”
“Ah,” his eyes widened slightly. “[name]-san is sick.”
It’s the first assumption Neige has, of course, because what else does he know about your background other than knowing you as who you are right now and not your past? He accepts you anyways.
He thought that Heartslabyul’s dorm leader was quite silly for not starting with that as his mind goes to the thought of being able to see your flushed face and in need of someone to rely on, or to be able to take care of you.
His heart races at the thought of it as he keeps his bright smile on—that dimmed once Deuce said, “Yes, but… they’re not really accepting visitors. It makes them… dizzy, you know…?”
“It’s completely normal to feel nauseous when you’re ill,” Riddle said to save Deuce’s informal wording, and he felt his anger simmer down when Ace was able to tame Neige’s persistence. “If you have something to give the prefect, it’s best to leave it to Pomefiore’s housewarden.”
“Vi?” the ebony student asked as he felt his heart empty out again, keeping a smile though Ace winced involuntarily at the thought that Riddle quite messed up there. “Why Vi?”
“Oh, because Schoenheit…” Deuce started, only to quiet down because he cannot give proper reasons since he doesn’t know the situation well, only having a gist of it through Epel.
“Why? Why? Why him? Again?”
“Pomefiore is attempting to provide [name]-san the best healing they could,” Riddle explained, not truly lying when he said it, though in reality Pomefiore is only offering you skincare for your plump eyes and your scar. “And he is the closest—”
Ace was satisfied with the first structure of Riddle’s words until nearly adding that Vil was the closest to you so Deuce quickly gets ideas from Riddle’s words and cuts in, “—closest to Hunt, who is part of the science club so Schoenheit gets entrance there to make potions for [name]-san!”
Riddle would’ve scolded Deuce for that; Riddle was the one who can barely catch up to what Neige was feeling and was prioritizing getting through Neige’s mind that you cannot see anyone at the moment.
The ginger felt relieved by Deuce’s save that they both placed their palms by their mouths as if to breathe deeply; they can’t believe how they have to save Riddle from more questioning by Neige.
“I see… how thoughtful…” Neige murmurs as he looks downcasted, nearly causing Riddle to wince at how openly he showed it. “I’ll… text Vi…”
“Or… or we can hand it to him for you!” Deuce chimed.
It doesn’t satisfy Neige, but he didn’t feel like seeing Vil and remembering the times he witnessed you with him; he wanted to see you, that’s what he dressed up and came for in the cultural fair.
He clenched on the strap of the bag before he looked up and smiled, handing it to Deuce as he said, “Thank you! I’ll make sure to text [name]-san about it so they will be prepared to receive it!”
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You put the phone down before you glanced at the paper bag, just because you mustered all the energy you had to feel energetic to respond to Neige doesn't mean the hole in your heart was fully healed.
The Shroud brothers had Grim, but even they won't tell you what happened with him even if you were close to the brothers in a way; Idia was closed off and Ortho was apologetic towards you.
You looked up at the group that was looking back at you before you sigh and say, "I feel better."
Kalim is happier to hear that and you smile a little; the entire group of the representatives of Night Raven College during the competition was there.
It took you a few minutes of talking by Rook before you mustered the courage to reply to Neige; he bribed you with money that he says could be for cat food in cans for your companion's return.
"It was a lot," Vil says as he looked back at the amount of fruits piling up on the table and how Jamil was currently in Ramshackle's kitchen and making juice.
"His sincerity is incredibly touching! He truly is kind," Rook says as you lean back on the couch.
You can't believe that Kalim was happy despite donating his money to Ramshackle, but you can't believe that even Jamil donates his own; you assumed he would have problems, but perhaps being Kalim's servant pays well.
There was still stinging in your eyes when you remember that Epel even donated his own and said it's for Grim's return; you can't help it, Grim was the first one to be there when you arrived in an unknown world.
"How many spoons are still in the freezer?" Vil asked after glancing at your puffed eyes that was the result of their kindness and you missing your companion.
"There's still six... seven..." Deuce counted.
— C R A S H !
"That..." you muttered before you looked up immediately.
The sound was nerving, and it came from outside. In that same day, you let your heart control your actions; it was the day you learned about 'Hepta Team' and when prefects had a meeting.
Rook was an enabler more than anything when he chose that he wanted to follow where the robots took certain people, people who overblotted, were taken to. Moreover, you learned more about why the Shroud brothers refused to return your companion.
And the next day, you were did not show up in the cafe to meet Neige.
hzn ┊ each time i type, i would accidentally put * before any actions and after because i’ve been using character ai on my laptop and i got used to typing with asterisks. Its taking too long again im so sorry, even i am thinking ‘omg when am i gna put [insert important scene for next time that i dont wanna disclose rn]??’ mc's texts were 'replied' to but they werent showing when i previewed them while editing. i had to edit the replies so it would be a little understandable, i never had iPhone so i didnt think that 'messages' (?) would remove them.
what to know ┊ woman mc, includes out of character scaramouche, triggering implications and scenes.
parts ┊ original idea, and the possible sequel.
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There were times Kunikuzushi stared at what view was above him and everything else, wondering if there was more than what his bare eyes could see—the blending of orange and yellow to a color that was far from the color wheel, purple and blue—and it’s all because the sun was setting.
The hues that matched his appearance were made up from the sky he would look at: dark blue shaded hair and blue eyes, much like the background shades used when nobles ask artists to paint a portrait of them.
“I must be old,” he used to think back then, for having preferred the darker shades like adults do even though he was only in his early adolescence at that time, when in fact, he only liked the hues, because they were the only ones he saw more frequently than the sun.
His perspective about that now was that he was naive.
Now and for the past years, Kunikuzsuhi wonders how he allowed himself to be so easily swayed to do something that he used to think was a burden to his work, but now he would convince himself that it was only rational of him to follow what the other says.
The light was blinding even when he placed his hand over his eyes; it was proven futile as light continued to only slip past his fingers and shone right back on his eyes.
He can feel herself getting irked by it; it was too warm for his liking.
“Where are you?” Kunikuzushi thought as he looked around the crowd of people before him; unfortunately, however, their tall structures blocked him from seeing anything, and they also fortunately blocked the sunlight from meeting his eyes. “That sick—! She’s unnecessarily stubborn! I will lose my mind!”
He dislikes having to be alone in such a place where vendors surrounding almost every corner of the area were yelling to get noticed first for their products, even though most of them were just the same—same fruits, same words, and same prices.
Though the event was yearly, there were occasions where everything just looked the same, and because of that, he didn’t feel any thrill from being beneath the pennant banners connected from house to house.
Kunukuzushi isn’t interested in the celebration, in fact, when he explained this to his companion, he can’t help but scoff; the irony was just there—everyone having to celebrate the birth of the missing child of the Empress that might’ve passed away already.
What’s more was that the Empress seemed convinced the child was alive and was searching for them now since they are supposed to be near the age for having a royal debutante.
Nobles were so irresponsible, and his companion was too forgiving.
If given the time, Kunikuzushi would want to drill in his companion’s brain about his hatred towards people, his experiences about being left, and his disgust for feeling like his companion had been taking everything lightly.
He definitely did confide to his companion about it all except the fluttering feeling that he used to feel disgusted of before meeting his companion; the way his companion thinks wasn’t one that he gets to see too often—his companion might be the only person that he knows that is objective even when having high morals.
“Kuni!” Just like that, he found his companion, who was waving towards his way and then looking side to side before his companion was the one to walk towards him instead. “I bought a calendar—!”
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Kunikuzushi wasn’t born luxurious; the moment he learned that he was going to live a hard life started when he was young, when he witnessed being abandoned by a golden carriage that bore a certain crest of a noble family. Prior to that, however, there were things that he couldn't remember.
He lives in a small town, a disregarded one at that; people were cruel, and in his view, it was either he learns how to deal with it lest he gets killed at an early age.
What more was that the place was prone to rumors and there were frequent crimes happening—Kunikuzushi had been living there for two years when the nobles decided to do something about it: by simply placing guards on the place.
The place flourished and more people—kinder ones—started moving in and it became populated to the point it even gained a name: Mikage.
Kunikuzushi doesn’t expect much from it, especially when the heinous crimes still continue; he wasn’t the nicest, and there were rumors of him having a hidden identity for being reserved or closed off in society.
Were those rumors because, despite his small structure, he’s able to be as wealthy as the lower-ranking nobles? They need better proof than that; being a bartender just happens to pay well—ah, the rumors were because he’s able to hurl his fists at people who don’t follow the policies of the bar he works at.
One night while on shift, Kunikuzushi had this customer—a woman, one he hadn't seen before—sure, everyone could have the same [color] hair and [color] eyes as this woman—but this woman wasn’t from Melius or from anywhere at all.
She wasn’t wearing a corset; it was obvious from the way this woman was able to slouch on her seat, or specifically just because of the shape of her body; it was considered an undergarment, yet even without it, this woman didn’t look uncomfortable.
The maiden asked for a simple drink and then never talked, simply drinking on the corner of the seat at the counter.
It wasn’t that Kunikuzushi thought the damsel was frail, but she was definitely weak—she wouldn’t survive this place before it became Mikage.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked the maiden.
Not that he was interested in the comfort of the customer, but he doesn’t want to be removed from a place that pays well and secures his identity as an employee.
“It’s actually... colder here than I thought,” the maiden responded as her fingers fiddled with the drink, and it was there Kunikuzushi noticed he was right about the woman being a maiden—unmarried. “Oh, and how much is this drink, by the way?”
Soft spoken but not scared; the maiden didn’t stutter in his presence, not like she has a reason to be scared; as long as the maiden doesn’t defy the rules of the bar, she has nothing to worry about.
Not like the regulars, men, who started a brawl on their first time.
Kunikuzushi only realized that he wasn’t able to reply quickly to the maiden when he met her [color] eyes, looking at hers with a tint of curiosity; the maiden was waiting for his response.
“It’s on the house.”
The maiden was feminine; she has that sweet, soft voice that doesn’t have a tint of fear or uncertainty, and even her eyes don’t have a speck of judgment in them.
Even the way her eyes widened a little in surprise, a bit of warm hue rising up to her cheeks as she suddenly averted her eyes from Kunikuzushi, almost embarrassed—or the better word for it: shy.
“Thank you...” she uttered to the bartender before looking up to him again. “Just... Just so you know... I’m planning to be a regular, so you shouldn’t do this too often.”
Kunikuzushi probably hit a nerve there, but he chuckled: “Is that supposed to be a warning?”
“I was just saying...” the customer, soon-to-be regular, muttered, loud enough to be heard by Kunikuzushi, who now just noticed the calloused index finger of the maiden. “It’s just that I drink a lot.”
“Turns out, she’s not perfect,” the bartender thought as he remembered his previous thoughts. “I thought she’s a perfect bait.”
With the current society, men preferred easily manipulated wives who are soft-spoken, those who would never question their husbands, or those who indulged in their husband’s dirty fantasies.
Kunikuzushi knew that much, which was why he never bothered with romantic relationships; he can never have a good perspective on the world.
It’s not like his stained hands can even hold something so pure; the reason why the maiden stood out was because she was a beam of purity—it was quite ironic that Kunikuzushi met her at the bar, though.
How can someone who drinks a lot have such pure energy?
To be sitting there without any trace of malice or even a trace of intoxication.
Kunikuzushi didn’t know she had this kind of complexion until he came face-to-face with one; not even the clergy in the temples could ever go against this maiden.
The bartender wasn’t obligated to watch over the maiden as she left the bar after drinking; he’s not obligated to look out for her safety to make sure she arrives safely at her destination.
It was only when Kunikuzushi got to his residence that he realized how shaken up he was to meet a human like that; the maiden looked weak, and it felt worse to know the maiden was soft-spoken—possibly nice.
His emotions were mixed up; he barely met her and he’s already making assumptions about the maiden’s mannerisms, age, and delight.
He remembers what she wore: the usual dresses commoners would wear—a ruffled white top and a dark-colored skirt that should have reached all the way down to cover the ankles—but the maiden wore a skirt a few inches over her ankles.
Why did it bother him so much? Why does he remember?
He’s met children who were unaware of the meaning of many words—they count as pure humans too, but children irk him.
He didn’t even know what being pure was or what the requirements were in his mind that he needed to see in something or someone before he labeled them as such.
What made that person so different? What was this lure that kept pulling him to the maiden?
It felt disgusting, like insects crawling inside his stomach that he wanted to claw out.
That maiden wasn’t the brightest, but she wasn’t dim either—she was just that—she looked soft, kind, and everything Kunikuzushi never faced when he started living a hard life.
“That isn’t just that,” Kunikuzushi thought as he placed a hand on his mouth, having felt foul towards the thoughts of that maiden.
It was as if he couldn’t process his own feelings of envy, but Kunikuzushi would know if he was truly feeling that way after seeing people live better than he did for years—he would know, but what he was feeling earlier was not jealousy.
“Tomorrow.”
There will be tomorrow.
ㅤ
ㅤ
Another shift. A restless shift.
It wasn’t that the work of being a bartender was too much for Kunikuzushi, but he was the restless one looking forward to seeing the maiden who said that she would start being a regular just the day before.
When the door opened to the bar, there was the [color]-haired maiden; she wore the same as she did before, but it had different hues, and this time, her hair was covered with a head cloth.
“What’s with that dreadful thing on your head?” the bartender can’t hide his distaste towards the cloth that hid the length and color of the damsel’s hair.
“Being [color] is apparently too noticeable for men’s eyes,” the customer responded as she rolled her eyes and then tried to adjust her head cloth to cover even the bangs. “Oh, and I’ll get the same that I did prior.”
“It’s not my business...” the bartender had to repeat in his mind as he turned away to get her the alcoholic beverage. “Not my business.”
The beverage was quickly placed down on the table, where the maiden was pulling out papers from her leather bag and a feather with an ink bottle.
Reading and writing were things only the privileged could do, and not even Kunikuzushi was able to gain access to those; he hadn't even seen a noble’s private library in his entire life—or perhaps he did.
He watched the maiden, who apparently was literate, tap the table in search of her cup before she held onto it and took a sip—that was where her ruffled sleeves showed a bit of her, revealing a purple-ish shade wrapped around it like an accessory.
“I don’t like that,” Kunikuzushi muttered, making the damsel raise her head from the paper, confused at his words.
“Are you talking to me?” the damsel whispered, a bit confused about what the bartender was talking about. “What do you not like?”
“That,” Kunikuzushi responded, pointing at the head cloth, which made the maiden place a hand over the cloth. “Why not let it down?”
“You like [color]?”
The bartender was thrown off, and the damsel laughed at him before looking back down at her papers, not even taking off the head cloth or asking for answers.
“I do not have any preference,” Kunikuzushi snapped.
“Sure you don’t,” the other replied sarcastically.
“I was merely asking—!”
“Oh, could you get me some ice?”
“The ice is thirty-one feet down,” the bartender replied, frowning. “As I was saying—”
“So you like [color]?” the maiden teased as she looked up from the papers, revealing scribbles that the bartender could not understand. “Just say so, and I’ll let my hair down for you.”
“You are getting on my nerves,” Kunikuzushi replied with a frown, yet did not feel offended by their exchange.
Being cut off when talking was supposed to be hurtful, yet it felt more like playful banter than both of them trying to be prideful and overpower one another—Kunikuzushi liked that.
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ㅤ
Both their schedules worked like that, with the bartender’s shift being from night to dawn and the damsel would bring her work to the bar and work at that time until both of them had to leave; the bartender noted that the damsel liked to drink while working.
[name], that’s what the damsel’s name was; the quantity of how much she drinks heavily depends on the work she does—not only does she write, she can also draw—and that was what her work was; she calls it: blueprints.
Kunikuzushi also learned where she lives and they lived beside each other; when they realized they lived beside each other, [name] started muttering around her house while working past dawn.
The artist seems to get very little sleep.
She was loved by the neighborhood; Kunikuzushi couldn’t help but ponder on the reason why he hadn’t heard of her until now.
What he thought once about the damsel was gone, as they got closer, the more it sank in that [name] wasn’t any of the things Kunikuzushi made up in his mind.
She didn’t have some hidden identity and was secretly a noble—no, she was a commoner making a living by helping and saving pennies enough to afford a drink.
[name] wasn’t being mysterious; she openly laughed at her presence and would give satisfactory answers whenever Kunikuzushi asked about the maiden’s personal life.
“I work at the underground market, they pay a lot,” she whispered that day to Kunikuzushi, who was thrown off, and she moved away from the artist.
Just after that was revealed, on the same night, Kunikuzushi also had to save her from being taken by familiar black clothed mercenaries from an underground guild because they wanted her capabilities to draw structures; Mikage flourished because of [name]’s work.
“How much more are you going to drink?” the bartender asked as he looked outside the bar, assuring himself that the ‘closed’ sign she placed outside was making the regular customers disperse.
“Enough for a gold penny,” the artist responds, her nose red as she hiccupped after—she was horrified by the incident. “Oh, yes, and take... ten gold coins in my pouch, apparently that’s how much my life was worth, and since you saved it you can have the coins.”
“You have a sarcastic mouth for someone who was just clinging and sobbing earlier,” Kunikuzushi responded before he looked away from the artist. “I prefer it this way.”
It was bad enough that [name] clung to him earlier and Kunikuzushi didn’t know how to respond; to preserve a bit more of Kunikuzushi’s dignity after having frozen up that time, it would be best for him if [name] doesn’t seek that kind of comfort from him.
The poor maiden’s source of income turned their back on her for a reason that she can’t control, which was being knowledgeable—Kunikuzushi’s not sure of the extent but if that specific guild became greedy, it must’ve been more than he currently knows.
Still, in his eyes, [name] was innocent.
“I can keep it if you don’t want it,” the artist huffed as she wiped her cheeks that had a few red splatters. “How much are your services?”
“Two gold pennies.”
“And your house tax?”
“Sixty-three sil—” the bartender had to pause in his words. “Why are you asking about my house?”
“Let me live there,” [name] sniffled. “I’ll pay your house tax and services every day. I don’t want to even be away from you for more than a meter.”
“You don’t sound serious.”
“Do you want a blood pact?”
“Are you a witch?”
“I’m very human, thank you.”
ㅤ
ㅤ
[name] was strange, because the damsel made a fuss about sleeping on the same bed with very little shame, exaggeratedly murmuring and grumbling about being scared.
The same damsel sobbing and crying earlier easily fell asleep, but that was only because she disturbed Kunikuzushi by clinging to him for comfort.
[name] made Kunikuzushi’s arm numb.
He, however, looked up to his ceiling, his mind wondering how it came to be how it was then; he was awfully disgusted at her just a few weeks back then.
Insects being in his stomach were still there and it doesn’t change the fact that he hated their existence, still wanting to claw them out yet he doesn’t move.
He thinks back to the incident earlier; [name]’s words towards the mercenaries were harmful, and though she was in clear panic, she was able to get Kunikuzushi’s attention by simply kicking his door, though weakly.
The artist wasn’t triggered by the aftermath either; she feared her situation and specifically only that, not minding if Kunikuzushi’s hands were blooded from having to save her.
He was right; [name] was weak.
But she was saved because of her quick thinking.
As the victim continued to remain asleep, being in the comfort of someone who remained as the victor over three men, he wondered if it was not a bit hypocritical of [name] to feel safe with someone who could easily overpower her?
Perhaps she felt safe because, after all, Kunikuzushi did save her, but wasn’t his strength intimidating?
Not to mention he was also a man.
The victor doesn’t know what he’s thinking as he placed a hand behind the victim’s head and cradled her; Kunikuzushi’s hand rising up to [name]’s head before he curls just enough to place his chin over her head.
It was so dangerous—to trust and to rely—yet he wished to find solace in the person in his arms as much as the damsel sees in him.
If Kunikuzushi was right about another thing, it was the fact he wasn’t envious of [name]; he felt a totally different thing.
With Kunikuzushi’s security [name] received, he wondered what it would be that he would receive from the latter.
ㅤ
ㅤ
[name] emptied her stomach, felt nauseous, and her entire body was sore the moment she woke up; she didn’t feel any better when Kunikuzushi only laughed at her for having drank a lot the night prior to drown her anxiety for almost being kidnapped.
Now feeling awake, Kunikuzushi became conscious of what he pondered about the night before—about wanting to find solace in [name].
He wasn’t sure if he was in the right mind at that night, because how can he find solace in someone who was exaggerating a cry whilst laying her head on a huge paper on the table; the exact blueprint that was the reason for last night’s incident.
“Oh fiddlesticks, I forgot my quill in my house...” she muttered before she looked back at Kunikuzushi, batting her eyelashes in his way. “P-perhaps on my behalf...”
“I’m charging you for this,” Kunikuzushi hissed his words before he headed for the door.
“You have my gratitude, short man!”
ㅤ
ㅤ
Living with [name] felt unreal, because he had never met someone nearly similar to him in a different aspect—both of them having clothes lasting for a week and having the same style but different colors.
Despite being loved by the neighborhood, even [name] had little utensils, for example: having only two clay cups for drinking, two plates for drinking and a singular bowl.
The reason for having very few items were the same as well: because it was a waste to buy something just because they are pretty—most pretty items were left unused.
Another similarity was that despite having much currency as a lower-ranking noble, both of them prefer to keep their money safely kept until for emergencies or if it’s for work.
[name] was considerably more affectionate than Kunikuzushi had thought; she liked having to act the male part of what Kunikuzushi gives, especially when they lock arms to buy ingredients.
It was like living with a witch, because [name] was simply talented. She can cook and she created the weirdest yet convenient things in Kunikuzushi house with Kunikuzushi’s permission; they have a water dispenser now, and it was clean boiled water, not simply water from the well or faucet.
There also wasn’t a day [name] forgot to pay Kunikuzushi for his services in keeping her secured in his place, but Kunikuzushi had forgotten about it until he would see a bowl filling up with gold pennies each day.
Unbeknownst to [name], when she would work at the bar at the same time shift as Kunikuzushi, when the bartender says ‘my treat,’ it actually means he’s using a gold penny that satisfies [name]’s drinking habits for a week.
Dawn was when they usually rest.
[name] propped her arm on the bed for support to look down on the person that gave her shelter as she whispers, “I realized that you go home by dawn and we sleep, right? Shouldn’t we do something about our upside down schedule?”
“Like?” Kunikuzushi asked, a brow raised while waiting for his roommate's response. “I don’t have to, but you definitely do.”
“Chamomile tea,” [name] suggested.
“What makes you think we can afford that?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Who says we can’t?” [name] asked, a small grin on her lips. “If not chamomile, perhaps a different kind of tea—it’s not like all kinds of tea are only for the high-ranking nobility, we have rights too!”
“Chamomile is the least expensive of all.”
“Just agree with me on it,” the artist muttered as she moved just a little closer to Kunikuzushi, who visibly flinched. “If chamomile tea won’t help us sleep, perhaps medicine would? Scented candles are trending nowadays but they’re not that hard to make by hand... or we can use the money for a comfortable bed, not like we have budgeting limitations.”
“A comfortable bed?” Kunikuzushi scoffed, a smirk on his lips as he placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her away a bit to create a distance between them. “Are you implying you’re not cozy in my bed? You speak as though you don’t snore.”
“That’s because I don’t snore! You’re just accusing me of doing so!” the artist retorted as she jabbed her finger on Kunikuzushi’s collarbone. “I was murmuring! I wasn’t snoring—I was talking to myself!”
“You want to change a bed just so you’re cozy enough to snore?”
“I don’t snore!” [name] retorted before she gave up on trying to say otherwise and laid back down on the bed. “I don’t know, I thought a bed would mean we’d both be relaxing and all that... don’t you get sore too?”
“Do you?” Kunikuzushi asked, now being the one to prop his arm on the bed, making [name] tense. “I don’t.”
“Well, considering that I’m not used to heavy labor...” the artist muttered just enough to be heard. “It makes sense if it’s just me.”
“Shouldn’t you have... just suggested that you hire someone who is good at massage therapy?”
“And have someone’s hands on me? That’s an absolute no from thy,” she responded, frowning softly before she turned away from Kunikuzushi.
“To be fair, I’d hate it as well,” Kunikuzushi commented.
“And It’s not a big deal either, the next thing we know, our neighbors might send us canned goods and would be under the impression that one of us is sick.”
Kunikuzushi didn’t think much more of it as [name] reached for the blanket, and placed it over herself before turning back to Kunikuzushi with her [color] eyes blinking fast—batting her eyelashes.
“Disgusting,” Kunikuzushi muttered but kept his arms open and his heart at bay to provide more warmth for the artist.
He was getting used to the sight of his companion’s squished cheek on his arm and the coldness of her hand on his waist, or perhaps he was already used to it.
In a span of months, he got used to having someone beside him.
ㅤ
ㅤ
“You’re drinking too much,” the bartender would say and would take away [name]’s empty drink to replace it with a cup of water.
“You’re the one enabling it,” she murmured as she placed the cup of water down after drinking. “I told you to stop treating me.”
Kunikuzushi took the cup and refilled it with water as if telling the artist to drown every bit of alcohol in her mouth; surprisingly, [name] had a tolerance for the beverage she drinks every day.
He became aware that if [name] were to continue her drinking habits as she does now, she will soon grow ill—one that might be irreversible.
It was dawn and [name] continued to work on her notebook, scribbling letters that Kunikuzushi didn’t understand, not like Kunikuzushi took a peek anyways; he was busy bussing the tables.
The artist felt her perspective shift as she stumbled at first upon getting up, much to the surprise of the bartender, who stared at her with a raised brow.
“What is wrong with you...?”
“Well, I wonder what,” the artist replied sarcastically as she held onto the stool she sat on earlier. “My stomach was flooded with water.”
“Even if you drown me, you won’t emit such a reaction from me,” Kunikuzushi said as he placed the towel on the counter. “Nauseous?”
“I’ll admit to it if you carry me home,” the artist scoffed as she climbed up her stool and placed her notebook, quill, and ink back in her leather pouch.
“Since you can answer me like that, I think you can handle yourself,” the bartender said.
“Oh no! My head is in shambles! I think I will fall! Yes, I will definitely pass out in the middle of somewhere! I might get hit by a carriage—!”
“Stop exaggerating!”
“Fuck! That really hurts for real this time! Who hits you in the head when you’re having pain in the head!?”
“What even is that word!?”
It was just a week later when both of them realized it wasn’t merely soreness for having different physique; after all, [name] suddenly stumbled on multiple occasions despite no longer drinking under Kunikuzushi’s watch.
At the time of Kunikuzushi’s shift right before they left, they had an argument about [name] needing to go to a clinic to get herself checked, to which she disagreed.
Standing in the argument: [name] doesn’t want to get checked just because she doesn’t want to and it’s only a ‘minor’ thing that will disappear soon, while for Kunikuzushi it is better to be safe than sorry.
For once, [name] stayed in bed, never getting up to go to the bar to keep the bartender company; Kunikuzushi is under the impression she doesn’t understand what it was like to be cared for.
Even in bed did the artist have her back turned on him, but the relieving yet heartbreaking of that part was that Kunikuzushi, who had came home
after mulling over their argument, realized that [name] was now capable of sleeping alone.
It shouldn’t have stung this much.
“Why are you just standing there?”
“You’re taking up all the space,” Kunikuzushi replied as a reflex to defend himself from having a bit of his dignity broken.
The artist raised a brow at him, but with her half-asleep state, she rolled and felt the empty space beneath her that she noticed first before her heart dropped.
Kunikuzushi grabbed the blanket that bundled [name] just in time before she fell off the bed; he felt just a bit guilty for lying and nearly causing harm to her.
“If you want my soul out of my body, just say so!” [name] said as she moved slowly to get back to her place earlier.
She crashed on the bed on her chest before grumbling about her heart dropping and then she patted the space beside her as she turned her head, cheek resting on the pillow.
Kunikuzushi sighed, “Maybe you should consider our argument earlier.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve done my self-reflection,” her companion replied but her eyes avoided Kunikuzushi’s. “I’ll get that... saddle-goose... whatever check-up.”
“Was it necessary to swear?”
“Kunikuzushi,” she murmured as she laid on her side to face her friend. “Listen, I didn’t want to fight you earlier—”
“But we did.”
“And I’m sorry,” she murmured, her hands obviously shifting from beneath the blanket just by the sound, and her face just flushes the longer the silence goes on. “Can you not stare while I’m talking...?”
“I don’t stare,” the other responded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re just anxious.”
“Of course I am, I am confessing my crimes!” the artist huffed but she turned solemn quickly. “I... It’s just that I don’t... have currency yet. If I did follow you, I’m not... I won’t even be able to pay... your monthly rent or your services.”
For a year living with [name], Kunikuzushi had now just realized that [name] was starting to run out of money for paying Kunikuzushi’s services every single day without fail.
Not only did Kunikuzushi forget the existence of that, but he also realized
that it was [name] that pays for his rent so they could remain on the same roof—and living with her was something he personally enjoyed.
“What happened to your job?”
“Well... ever since they tried to capture me, I stopped working for them—I mean, frankly, why shall I return to them after trying to kidnap me for what I can do?” the artist said, quietly, ashamed and a bit irked. “So I tried working for nobles.”
“By Jove, nobles?” Kunikuzushi emphasized on the word.
“I wasn’t paid well,” the artist said, frowning softly. “I have it bad.”
“You think you have it bad,” the other responded as he laid on the side of his place and then pressed a finger on [name]’s forehead. “Let’s start compiling our currency together.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Be serious for once,” Kunikuzushi groaned as he covered [name]’s face with his palm, earning a muffled hum of confusion from her. “I never asked you to pay for any of that, I only charged you for asking me to get your quill from the other house.”
“The end of my bargain—”
“You’re my only friend.”
“What does that have to do with... me paying you?”
“I’m doing you a favor, just shut up and mix your pennies with mine lest we start fighting again.”
“I like you, you know?” [name]’s laughter was muffled. “It makes me a little happier that you like [color] enough to take me in even though we knew each other for months.”
“And your type?”
“Bluenettes.”
“Bluenettes?” he scoffed before he averted his gaze from [name] and then to the ceiling. “I like having you around too, but it feels weird to oddly phrase it out loud.”
“By the way, when...?” [name] asked. “When and where?”
“The clinic... I’ll just bring the person to you,” Kunikuzushi responded, chuckling a little. “Oh, and... I’ll bring that person the day after tomorrow, make some time.”
“You know you can’t just barge in the clinic and pull someone aside, right?” the artist reminded as she felt a little thrown off, it was at her expression. “It takes weeks to be called on, as far as I know at least...!”
“You can if you have connections,” Kunikuzushi said, sounding as though he was boasting with the small smirk on his lips, to which [name] scoffed. “It’s not hard to pick and find someone capable.”
“And this person turns out to be a fraud?”
“Might as well just die and never appear.”
“Someone pray for that poor unfortunate soul.”
ㅤ
ㅤ
Because of the decrease of [name]’s health, she has been staying at the house and working from home; he doesn’t allow her to drink anymore and opts to bring her something else.
She asks him to do errands for her, including delivering the ‘blueprints’ that she has to sell to nobles, buying fruits and food ingredients.
They start drinking what [name] calls: Juice—and it tastes exactly like the fruits she asks Kunikuzushi to bring home; he was convinced that it is healthy to drink.
Those errands tire Kunikuzushi, but he doesn’t complain, not when by the end of the day, there’s food on the table, their shared bowl was getting filled up, and he can just crash in the bed and sleep.
He returned at dawn after work, and usually, he would ignore anyone on the way because he doesn’t usually bother with anyone, except for the old lady fidgeting near their door.
His eyebrows furrowed because he knows her, and [name] knows her too; she would talk to the lady outside the house for an hour or two because she was nice enough to help the lady read the newspaper.
“Oh, how fortunate!” the old lady exclaimed as soon as she saw Kunikuzushi. “I wanted to read the newspapers that were handed this morning, and I was about to leave because I thought she was asleep but I heard something fall! I have tried knocking but to no avail!”
“Since when?” Kunikuzushi asked, walking to the door and knocked on it to announce his arrival as he patted his pants for his keys.
“J-just minutes prior to your arrival...”
“For Christ’s sake...” he muttered. “I don’t have the keys.”
“I-is she okay...?”
He was tired; he wanted to lay down to rest to wake up for breakfast momentarily and then rest again until nighttime, but the situation wasn’t allowing him to.
“I’ll take care of it, you can go home.”
There was this twinge of irritation for being impatient when it comes to reaching the bed, but knowing [name] was unwell and learning that there was a loud thud from inside that could be heard from outside, Kunikuzushi placed her agitation aside.
He removed the safety pin from his clothing that she kept despite not needing it all the time, but he always had it for one sole purpose: to pick the lock in case he was locked out.
Kunikuzushi left the pin on the door as he opened it slowly, both wary and worried about who or what could be on the other side, but seeing as it was empty, he fully pushed the door open.
[name]’s name left his lips as he looked at the side, no one, but on the other side, laid [name] on the table, [bright/dark] hair sprawled all-over.
His heart clenched as he immediately rushed beside [name] to observe everything better; a hand on her forehead that went down to feel the temperature on her cheek, while his other hand prepared to carry her.
He took mental notes of her feverish, unconscious state and what the situation looked like; no matter how nice [name] was to everyone, Kunikuzushi’s hatred towards everything and everyone flared up.
Instead of seeking refuge, Kunikuzushi does everything on his own.
From observing [name]’s state, making sure she had a cloth over her forehead, and then wiping the ink splatters on her calloused fingers.
It was already confirmed that she was frail, but the thought of this severity was something Kunikuzushi tried to avoid thinking; he witnessed her stumble, fall, and then get up only to laugh it off.
Why hadn’t he noticed that she was sick before he left the house?
He cleaned the dishes on her behalf while also tending to her using methods he had learned during his early days; he rested [name]’s ankles, pressing a cold item nearby, compressing it, and elevating it every few minutes.
Does he really want to keep such a frail person in his line of sight—moreover, in his life?
It hits her that he can never fight against reality if ever [name]’s drinking habits caught up to her and if this incident was the cause of that.
Kunikuzushi was in the middle of kneading [name]’s fingers with oil in his hands as an attempt to smoothen the callous on the artist’s fingers when she woke up; he can tell that she was in pain especially when she flinched every now and then.
She was aware of what Kunikuzushi was doing yet didn’t utter a word, but she did let out a breath and then looked up at the ceiling; Kunikuzushi can only assume that the reason why the patient shut her eyes so tightly was because she felt disorientated.
He wondered if the patient’s eyes were hazy with the way she squinted her eyes a little to look at her hand that was being massaged by him.
“You should wear.... a mask,” she uttered, her voice dry and quiet, but as always, it was enough to be heard, and Kunikuzushi scoffed leaving to grab a cup of water.
“If you have the time to think about that, what about explaining to me what happened first?” he asked, sitting on the bed with a cup at hand that he placed on the nearby table.
“Won’t be the better question be how I’m faring?” the patient whispered as she attempted to sit up, but ended up grunting instead of actually moving.
“Better question is: how bad is it?”
“I will... out of five... rate it three,” she whispered before she gave a glance at the cup. “Sit me up.”
He helped, he rolled her to her side, pushed her legs off the bed, and then pulls her up to sit before asking, “How’s your forehead?”
“My forehead is doing not-so great,” his companion responded before she groaned. “I want to throw up.”
“There’s a bucket on the side of the bed,” He said as he stood up to support her back while he grabbed the cup of water. “I'll flood you again with water.”
[name]’s face scrunched up and opened her mouth to retort his words, but Kunikuzushi placed the rim of the cup on her lips and tilted it up, leaving her no choice but to drink.
She wished for mercy.
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Kunikuzushi sat on the table he would dine with [name]; his eyes downcast at the lines his companion drew in order to make a living as he heard the front door close shut with a gentle click.
Close—because the person that was supposed to check up on [name] arrived hours ago just left—the procedure to know about her state took hours just to hear news that she never wanted.
His breathing was ragged.
For the past year with [name], he was able to stop delving into his thoughts, in search for definitions and reasons to reasons what he feels and why he feels in such a way.
How can he now?
He was only able to avoid it because he achieved what he wanted: to find solace in the person who invaded his thoughts, his life, his home, and almost everything he had was shared with her.
And he was going to lose her.
He was too late to prevent it.
He choked because he thought that he didn't try hard enough. All he had to do was to just place the cup of beverage away, to have prevented her sooner, or to have saved her from having her lung infected.
The thought of having to return to an empty house without seeing a single piece of paper on the dining table was taking away bits of his sanity that he preserved from having her.
Alone was he at first, without a single utterance of complaint for being so; used to it, he lived in a house so small that if he opened the front door, all of his items would be displayed before him.
Why now?
A singular human decided to ask for a drink at the bar suddenly became someone he lived with; his memories of what even happened were foggy because all he remembered was that he spent it with her lavishly.
The brown papers did not help him either—these were the reasons why she passed out before [name]'s arrival in the first place—she overworked to contribute to their bowl of pennies.
All of those happening in front of him yet it all slipped away from his observation that he couldn't place a stop on them until it worsened.
He felt angered by the system.
The system that cheated on [name]: the underground guild for being greedy for her talents, the nobles that paid her less, and the bowl of pennies that she felt pressured to fill.
Kunikuzushi reached for the bowl; it was just made out of clay, but it was filled with his efforts alongside [name], except she had contributed more than he did.
He hated having to look at it, because it makes him think of everything he wished he could've done but didn't.
The gold penny he takes weekly to use on [name]'s drinking habits, but he never thought that if he takes and takes from the bowl, it will keep refilling itself.
If there was someone who could read [name]'s mind, Kunikuzushi wanted to know why she was so determined to fill the earthenware—to fill the bowl that could never match her worth.
Kunukuzushi's mind blanked and he dropped it, and he immediately cursed in his mind as he successfully caught the bowl before it fell, but he couldn't stop the heavy golden pennies from falling.
The sound clearly woke the patient up because Kunikuzushi could hear her groan and shift in her sleep; that made him stand up to tend to her, however, the clay bowl in his hands broke apart and added to the noise.
“Kunikuzushi...?”
If the bowl hadn't fallen apart, perhaps [name] could've continued sleeping; the patient now tries to sit up, making Kunikuzushi rush to her—he's not ready to tell her anything.
“Go... go back to sleep,” he tried to convince her as he placed her hands on his companion's shoulders to force her back to lying down. “It was only the bowl, I... knocked it off.”
“Are you okay?”
Kunikuzushi was surprised; his eyes glistening as he faced the same [color] orbs that he did when they first met—their life has been filled with banter and their conversations weren't serious that [name] had to revert to her previous tone—the soft and unjudging look.
He felt like the words were at his throat, and [name] had to hold his hands with her now warm hands because of her feverish state; he wanted to scoff, brush her off, and make fun of her as usual.
How come [name] was able to see through everything so quickly? She saw it with such haste, noticed the mood, and opened about it.
The shaking of her hands must be prominent; the tremble and wobbling of his lips at the sight of someone so unaware of her situation—aware of everything, but hers.
His words were forced as he said, “Forget it, and go back to sleep.”
“Kunikuzushi, breathe,” the sickly person had to say that to someone in a better condition than her. “I’ll sleep, but I need to...”
“What are you saying?” he asked, feeling irked that he wasn’t being followed and that he was caught vulnerable. “I said go to sleep, it’s still early.”
“I-I’ll follow you,” [name] stuttered now as she tried to pick his fingers from her shoulders. “But you follow me too, you’re panicking right now, and it’s making me feel the same—your touch... is painful.”
She breathed out before continuing her words, “So breathe... I’ll be here until you’re ready... but don’t stay too close, I’m sick.”
She frustrated him; he wanted to act normal, to act as though he didn’t hear the dreadful news—he wanted to scoff and say that she wasn’t the type to get sick.
In his eyes, she had always been so smart to predict what he could potentially feel in the future based on events that already happened.
The patient’s lips thinned, perhaps because Kunukuzushi noticed it himself that his breathing didn’t calm down in the slightest and his eyes were just staring as if he wasn’t in the same place as her.
He was, but his thoughts are in shambles, because he would never know when was the next time he will ever get to have her like this, or to even be in her presence—there will never be a next time.
It was when [name] had decided to cup his cheeks that he snapped out of the thought and he wanted to be greedy, to have more, to have what was presented, and so his walls collapsed.
His breath remained trembling as he buried his face on her chest and then up to the crook of her neck, much like a cat; he lavished the feeling of his companion’s hands on the back of his neck, pulling him down to her despite his weight.
He muttered what happened; each word was forced, his lips biting back sob per syllable: the alcohol got to [name]’s lungs, and though the disease was well-known by older people who waste their lives drinking, there wasn’t a cure.
There are temporary solutions, but never a full-healing remedy.
“You’ll be okay,” the patient murmured as she brushed the blueish locks of her somber roommate.
Kunikuzushi wondered what she was thinking about when she said that; he wondered if it was a form of self-reassurance or if it truly was to reassure him that she would remain living the same even after what he heard and told her.
There will never be a part of him that will be okay.
He wanted to retort, to yell at her for even saying that, for [name] to assume that everything will be normal—to ask loudly why he’s the only one feeling so strongly about it.
[name] was trembling too.
It was the last straw before the person, who finally found solace, started to sob at the shoulder of the sick who he found solace in.
The world was so unfair to [name].
There was more he wanted to see her do; he wanted to have her talents recognized by the world, to have her name be credited to every structure she planned and drew with her hands.
It was her idea and never theirs.
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Change on that day was inevitable—in Kunikuzushi and in [name] as well, after learning her time was limited yet she pretended as if it was all the same if she didn't consider that days after, she was fired from her work despite being useful.
People who lived nearby would hand [name] baskets with ‘get well soon’ cards much to their ignorance; Kunikuzushi did nothing to correct them.
He was barely home anymore; he had a fear of going to his house and seeing another bruise on [name], blood splatter on her clothes, or worse, seeing her not breathing.
He began developing self-hatred for having better immunity than [name], and for being able to do things she couldn’t do because of her situation.
It was something he was proud of, but not it turned into nothing but reasons to hate everything.
He can’t help but clench his first whenever he sees her outside the house, having to hold back from reprimanding her for being outside without anyone watching over her.
His worry was evident, and perhaps the sick [name] could notice it as well, especially when she would follow his instructions quickly without question just to ease his mind.
Kunikuzushi reverted to his previous doings; the previous rumors sparking an idea within him, because, for him, doing it was nothing if it means to keep [name] alive for another second, another day, luckily if another year.
He has to keep you alive, even if his hands, which were used to tend to her, were stained red. There may be no cure, but the temporary remedies are what he needed—he just had to afford it.
When given the time to think, he would think about [name]’s changes: she eats all three meals in the day alone, she also started leaning more to writing than drawing, and she would smile softly at her whenever he bids her bye for the day.
Medicine was only used for the fortunate and people who heal nearby Mikage, a commoner place, barely even know how to read—[name] was fortunate to be able to.
Kunikuzushi had someone ship him medicine that he saved for.
[name] was in the middle of writing when he suddenly dropped the pouch on the table, making her jolt a little and give her an innocent confused look, but her smile dropped after seeing the small globular item.
When it comes to medicine—syringes were expensive, commoners can have access to a few and nobles are available to have all—pills were the harder ones to have, they are created delicately that everyone was stingy to give them away—the royal family are the only ones to have them, including the black market.
“What’s this?” she asked as she scrambled to place the fragile items back in the pouch lest she accidentally breaks one and has to pay for it. “This... this is not part of our budget! We never talked about this...!”
Kunikuzushi was exhausted; he felt hurt to see her scramble to take care of the medicine in the pouch and tried to hand it back to him.
He can see the way his companion’s hands tremble as he placed the pouch on Kunikuzushi’s now-calloused hands; she seemed to notice this and her attention magnified on it.
“Did I mistake it...?” she whispered before she looked up to Kunikuzushi. “Are you sick? Are these yours?”
“Mine?” the other scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed and then he snatched the pouch from her. “You think—this is mine? For what even? Do I look sick to you?”
“I-I don’t want to assume!” she stuttered as she looked thrown off by her roommate’s slight aggression. “Are you hurt?”
“What?”
The more she spoke, the more he was getting agitated.
“I’m sorry for touching it,” she apologized, her mind seemed to be hazy with the way she can’t think about what she’s saying anymore. “I’ll just get fresh air! I’m sorry for touching what was yours.”
“What... are you talking about?”
His hands were clenched as he tried to understand the way she acted; [name] thought the medicine belonged to him as though all the hardship he went through for the week wasn’t all for her.
Every wall he built for the past week after learning [name]’s condition broke so quickly, because her words made it seem like she wasn’t involved in his life anymore, but mostly because [name] sounded like she was resigning to her fate.
Did she?
He opened his mouth to mock her, to tell her that she was as weak as her physique and for giving up early, but he instinctively placed a hand on his mouth because what escaped was a sob.
He is so frustrated.
As usual, [name] turned her eyes on him and immediately tried to console him without knowing why he was shedding tears in the first place: [name]. [name]. Everything was for [name].
[name], whose hands went to Kunikuzushi’s hands, arms, shoulders, neck, and then cheeks with a worried and panicked look.
[name], who Kunikuzushi wanted to tell everything to, about the self-hatred that was eating him alive since last week, and the insects that in his stomach that he learned were butterflies.
[name], who Kunikuzushi kept his burdens away from, because he’s afraid that the weight of his problems would also become hers.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” she muttered repeatedly as she desperately struggled to wipe Kunikuzushi’s never ending tears. “I—was I too heavy to carry? I’ll be better.”
Kunikuzushi had no idea what [name]was talking about.
She said those words as though she wasn’t neglected, like she wasn’t coldly treated, like she hasn’t eaten all three meals without him, and like she hasn’t suffered.
It seemed like [name] was insecure; Kunikuzushi had to get his bearings in order to understand her.
[name], who lost her job for being sick, and who was disposed of despite having an enormous range of talents; perhaps, while Kunikuzushi stained his hands and slaved away, [name] got insecure for never filling the new bowl.
Kunikuzushi felt his frustrations build up again; everything, as always, was in front of him but he missed it all again.
“It’s for you,” he whispered, her hands holding onto his companion’s arm. “It’s for you—I want to keep you alive.”
For someone so insecure, that immediately made [name]’s eyes stung, and now that Kunikuzushi tried to see her perspective and piece things together, he understood; [name] was pressured to fill the new bowl again.
[name] whispered, “But I have nothing to give.”
“There is so much you did,” Kunikuzushi whispered, his hands lowered down to the fabric by the damsel’s hips, his eyes glossy. “You... you are simply too humble to realize.”
“I have nothing but clothing that’s only for a week, my quill, my papers, a cup, two plates, and a broken bowl,” [name] listed all she brought in Kunikuzushi’s house from the start. “But I will believe you. I feel... reassured.”
From that, Kunikuzushi can’t help but feel relieved and he wrapped the damsel in a warm hug, but a sinking feeling now that it’s highly likely that [name] would never find out what he did to get the medicine.
He relished the feeling of the damsel, choosing to forget his deeds, and choosing to continue what he has now.
If problems were to arise, he would deal with it, but for now, he will focus on [name] and try to delve more on the feelings in his stomach—or what people say ‘heart’.
With [name]’s presence; the fact he was still there, Kunikuzushi can bear it all, all the in-coming pain for choosing not to abandon her—he doesn’t have to tear down the world that was so cruel to her yet.
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His breathing was shallow when he woke up facing the ceiling of the home he built with his companion; his head pounded, not remembering what it was in his dream that caused his emotions to go wild at such a time of the night.
He felt as though his throat was parched and his eyes stung that made him rub it in order to be relieved, but when he looked at his hands, he realized that they were calloused.
For some reason, he felt suffocated, but hasn’t he felt that way ever since he found out that her time was shorter than his beloved and that he couldn’t do anything about it other than try to extend it for a little?
[name]’s time will never be longer than Kunikuzushi’s—now that he thought about her, he wondered where he was.
The thought of her was suffocating Kunikuzushi oh-so-little, but he had to find her, the one to cause him pain and solace; it was dark as well, where else was [name] supposed to be other than the bed?
He hasn’t seen her since he started recalling everything and getting sentimental; he can feel his heart race at the possibility that [name] had passed out somewhere around the house, he used that energy to get up.
The house was as empty as his stomach, since the time he reassured [name], they have been taking turns in cooking, but he supervises her, who had to hit him with the pan for doing so.
From his place in the tiny house, he caught a glance of [name] dozing off on the couch, but he quickly drank water before walking up to the couch and sitting on the armrest.
He was thrown off by what [name] wore; she was taking up all the space with her small height and white outfit—yet he feels like that's the least of his worries.
“Why are you on the couch?” he muttered as he brushed his finger over her cheekbone up to her temple to brush the stray hair aside.
The feeling of her skin and the way her hair moved felt odd; he felt his heart just kept sinking the longer he stared at the unconscious damsel.
“Don’t you think your hair is a little... brighter?” he thought as he softly frowned. “Are you awake?”
It wasn’t making sense why she was holding her breath.
[name]’s face was something Kunikuzushi memorized; the oily skin and red patches that she was insecure about was gone, and even the ‘beauty mark’ she called that was near her [part] was gone.
Those facts were alarming, which was why Kunikuzushi got off the armrest to kneel by her side on the couch to see her better than where he was sitting earlier.
“[name],” he whispered, his voice laced with a tint of fear as his fingers glided over the white outfit she wore to find the spots that made [name] squirm in the past.
[name] knows that he was sensitive to the subject of her sickness, and he knew she knew, yet it seemed like she still chose to prank him about it.
He panicked as he pressed on her skin, knowing that she’d wake up if he pressed too hard because she was someone who was easily pained.
Was [name] the sort of person to pretend to be so still and motionless to the point of not breathing?
[name] was odd; her skin, her form of lying, and the way she refused to breathe, but she had always been odd because she give and gives—and what it was she takes from Kunikizushi, she returned it all ten times more.
she was never this still; she was full of life, like when she waved at him when she was on the other side of the path—like when her teeth showed as she smiled upon the success of buying a calendar for the new year because it was only out during festivals—like in his dream.
“What dream? What festival?”
As far as he remembered, he hasn’t gone on a festival with her yet; he feels like he’s losing a part of himself whenever he started remembering memories he never wanted to remember.
“You’re being too much now,” his voice cracked unintentionally, making sure to project as much emotion as he could so [name] would understand that her prank was going too far.
[name] was so aware of Kunikuzushi’s well-being and his mental state that she would know that she crossed the line if Kunikuzushi’s tone were ever akin to begging; she would never resist in attempting to console her.
“Joke’s over, you have to take your medicine,” he said as he placed her hands on her shoulders.
Even if [name] didn’t promise forever, she promised that she would try—and that was something Kunikuzushi believed in because he saw her—taking the medicine she deemed expensive, stopping her drinking habits, and taking a lot of time to rest even if she was a workaholic.
He waited for any reaction from her, whether it’d be her stifling her laughter, her lips thinning. or waking up and apologizing—at this rate, Kunikuzushi would take any of those scenarios.
He wrapped an arm around her nape and around on her waist to gently pull her up and make her sit—now, he felt something—a line that ran from [name]’s nape and upwards.
Her back was leaning on the couch, but her head was tilted upwards, leaning on the back rest, and the way her [color] hair was away from her shoulders was when the lines Kunikuzushi felt were exposed.
The truth was already in the back of his mind, but he wasn’t like her, who accepted the pressure together with reality.
[name]’s nape and up had stitches, and her skin glimmered like silk.
He couldn’t breathe as he took the lightness of her body—he couldn’t take it; he wasn’t like her.
He could never accept this.
He’s not ready to face the truth; both his hands moved to rest on her hips that were covered by a white fabric before he buried his face on her stomach.
The fabric wasn’t something he gave to her, he had never seen it in his entire life; he would never buy damask fabric, because that fabric was used for the dead.
He cannot tell what he was thinking; his mind goes into one thought, then another, and then another all at the same time.
[name] was a liar, and Kunikuzushi was delusional—his mind—thoughts—begging for her to cut off the entire joke she was continuing for the past ten minutes.
How could [name] remain so serious while Kunikuzushi was there—touching all he can of her with his head on her chest, uncaring if her body was nearly falling off the couch because he couldn’t resist his attempts to cover up the truth?
He desperately craved for her heart as much as he avoided having a confrontation with his memories.
Was this the compensation of the royal family that ran over her with their carriage whilst in a hurry?
The memory of the festival that happened hours earlier, one he deluded to be a nightmare, the memory of how loudly he yelled after seeing [name]’s body be trampled on and how every light in her faded.
The love continuously given to him was gone, taken away by something that wasn’t related to the disease that was supposed to slowly eat [name]’s life away.
How twisted is the royal family to compensate Kunikuzushi by dressing his beloved in silk and damask? To patch up the face of her and not even put the tiniest details she used to have? How dare they even touch her in the first place?
He cried all he could that day, regret and revenge deeply rooted in him even though all of those were the opposite of what [name] had taught him.
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Having lost someone he never got to confess to broke his mind, especially when after [name]’s funeral was visited by a member of the royal family.
He can’t handle the scowl on his face and the way his blood boiled quickly, but all of it dissipated quickly when he learned the reason why the royal family was at the festival.
They were looking for him: Kunikuzushi, the lost son of the royal family that the empress loved so much.
He laughed and laughed as though he was unhinged, and he laughed even if the member of the royal family looked at him as if he was non-human; he laughed even if his eyes became glossy and brimmed with tears.
Kunikuzushi, the one [name] thanked the most, was indirectly the cause of her death.
The empress knew nothing of love, because in Kunikuzushi’s eyes, what would this insignificant woman know?
Not only was she the one who bought all the blueprints [name] made and sold to the black market, she was also the one to take [name]’s ideas and make the buildings knowing well that it was never hers.
Kunikuzushi had to be patient; he would burn the place down and have everyone by his will—he would be the opposite of everything [name] was—the only good thing recorded in history was that he gave credit to her ideas.
hzn ┊ i actually recycled this and made it a OC kinda story, but i still made it inspired by scaramouche. i submitted it to my teacher printed formatted and everything, but there were typos like goddamn i was abt to kms and the TYPO JUST OS HAPPENED TO BE AT THE DRAMATIC PART i WAS IN TEARS. and they were lesbians when i submitted it too. im so sorry i had to make it straight, the mc was a woman in the descriptions so it changed a lot when i turn them gn... while typing this, i kinda realize this is different from stained hands though the original copy was stained hands, i think it's bc this focused more of the development in their friendship rather than getting married quickly.
what to know ┊ this includes wanderer’s backstory, added scenes, removed scenes, and the timeline would be confusing.
parts ┊ part one (you are here), part two, and part three.
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You were not a god.
You played the game and had your heart flutter, break, and be stolen by many characters; the lack of romantic content would send you to your fantasies filled with what-ifs and imaginations of how characters would act if you do this or do that.
At your first arrival, you were confused about where you were, so what if you played the game? The game was not realistic, it was a 3D game with drawn or modeled items, and when you saw everything, it wasn’t the same as the game.
The difference was huge and so was the troubled feeling in your heart.
Almost everything was handed to you when you started walking around the place; the river was incredibly clean to drink on, the trees always have something to give, and the abandoned places have fabrics to give you.
Still, it’s not that you can actually feel safe in this place, not when everything was not as ‘modern’ as your world was, and you never knew how you had come to transport in this kind of place in the first place.
It was only when you stumbled upon a domain at night, the marbled structure with a symbol of three pointed sides, glowing together with the nearby plants that you don’t recall the name of because it was the least of your worries.
Genshin Impact.
You read works like that fandom, can’t say that you were as dedicated as the rest were, but you knew a few, because you tried to study the characters due to their appearance or their interesting personalities.
Alternative universes, and you were transmigrated like that? Unbelievable. You don’t have the power that those alternative universes have in which you were the god, and you didn’t have anything special; you weren’t aether or lumine, you were just you.
Tired, you sat by the tree and hugged your knees to your chest while using the fabrics you found as a way to keep yourself warm; you didn’t feel hopeful. You had no information about where exactly in Teyvat you were, what year, or who were the trustworthy people currently alive.
Frustrated to be away from the place you were used to and comfortable, tears stung your eyes, prompting you to place your palms over them as if you’re trying to shove the liquid back in your eyes—it worked though.
You shed a few tears, only a few, and the glowing light was a comforting feeling to you; it’s only been a day and you can’t help but wish to see a few people that was known in the game so they could be your source of comfort or the reason for you to know where to start.
How could you rest in an unfamiliar place? You closed your eyes, your tears piling up again even if you thought that your mind no longer had thoughts. You pulled the fabrics closer to your body and you tried to rest.
It’s too cold.
The domain couldn’t be too dangerous, you assumed, because in the game you have to turn on the mechanic to summon the monsters, and you could use the warmth of the place—it was not like you were in Dragonspine after all.
You looked up and held on the domain doors, pushing it open to have yourself be comforted by the light, but dread filled your body when someone was actually in the domain; you never encountered anyone yet in your travels, animals, sure, but not humans or monsters.
The person had a purple cloak, white clothing, purple hair and—you recognize him; this was not a person, but the puppet of the Shogun. The character you cried over was just a few meters away from you.
It was canon that he was pretty, he was described to be.
Your heart clenched as you saw him, laying in the middle of the domain that looked like it was taken from a place in Inazuma and shut locked in the domain, like a garden inside a bottle—as far as you know, he had no idea it was a domain.
Even if the trees were pretty and the view was a sight for sore eyes, you can’t help but tear up again; out of all the people you had to see first, it had to be the character your heart broke for so many times.
You now know the year it took place and where you were, and it did not ease the pain in your heart to know he could’ve been here for who knows how long, but you had to wipe your tears.
You wanted to help him, but what can you do? Not even you were from the world, no one knows you here, and you weren’t any different from him. You also didn’t want to change his future, because what if he doesn’t meet Lessor Lord Kusinali?
“Scara—” you said but your mouth clammed.
He has no name yet.
The puppet, however, turned to you, his face of curiosity and yours teary but you smiled regardless. At least you can take him out of the domain earlier than a certain samurai would, but you never knew the details.
You held the worn out fabric close to yourself, the scenery inside the domain being warmer than outside. You’re not sure what to say as you hesitated to even come near him; you can’t just give him a hug out of nowhere no matter how your heart breaks at his innocent stare.
“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “I did not know you were here and it was just cold outside.”
Your cheeks felt warm, embarrassed, and you’re not even sure if the puppet right now can even talk to you or understand your words because he was someone that wasn’t given a name before he was discarded.
Even your reason felt stupid, you sounded like you were invading someone’s home when it was a domain that anyone can walk in and walk out of—or can they?
You looked back and didn’t see the domain door and your heart dropped. This was the kind of domain without exit until you finish what is at the end of the domain, and you don’t remember what was inside this domain because it has been so long.
“Are you okay?”
Your heart nearly fluttered because this was someone who was now a blunt and not really soft-spoken person in the game, so hearing this tone on the character felt different, uncomfortably different.
“Oh, yes, uhm…” you said, stuttering your words a little before you hesitantly approached. “I… I’m sorry, but do you know what’s inside this place?”
To your observation though, he looked interested and flustered at the same time; you felt bad, because it was most likely because you were the first person he talked to ever since Ei left him there.
You nodded and then he replied, “Nothing…”
“Nothing?” your anxiety paused for a moment because you were bewildered, and he just nodded at you.
If there was nothing inside, then why was he still here? He could’ve gotten out on his own—unless he didn’t know how to get out in the first place or did he not know it was even possible?
“I… I see,” you muttered. “Hey… uhm… I’ll trust you since you said there was nothing…”
What else are you supposed to say? You can’t reveal anything from the game because it could affect the future, you thought of it like that as if you didn’t change the future by being the first person to meet him, and now you were going to attempt exiting the domain.
You felt a little stiff as you smiled at him and waved, the redness of the spot beneath your eyes and nose worrying him for some reason, because he never saw a human before, a human like you, at least.
He followed you, and you didn’t feel uncomfortable with him following you, except for the fact that he was following you—makes sense?
If you did find the exit, he would leave early too and you’ll destroy the timeline hours after you just arrived in Teyvat. You weren’t confident that you could give him a better life than what was ahead of him because you did not pay attention to details.
However, you do know that you can teach him to properly deal with his pain and emotions when the time comes, but you weren’t someone who graduated at psychology or anything that involves mental health; you’re just someone who observes.
“What are you doing?”
You can never get used to his tone, but he watches you slide the doors to the side or push them open in an attempt to find the exit, and he even follows you down the ladders and such.
“Investigating…?” you said but it sounded like a question, even the puppet was confused about your words, and you felt like you were going to flush again. “I’m just looking.”
You didn’t want to say you wanted to leave, because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, you were probably—are—the first person he had ever met, and if you feel like if you found the exit, you wouldn’t be able to leave him without the shame and guilt building over you.
“I’ll go investigate with you,” he said and you felt something punch you in the gut by how innocent and soft-spoken he was. “I’ll help you.”
You smiled a little and then you turned around to continue walking.
In just a minute, you realized the puppet had no idea what investigating actually was and he was pushing and sliding doors open as you were earlier, in a way, what he was doing was right, but he looked endearing like that.
Endearing—the thought made your heart break again for the nth time. This person near you was someone who made you cry for days because you hoped his life would be better, because you felt like you understood his pain even if you hadn’t experienced it in the way he did.
You helped look around for exits, and you often look at drawers as well. You found a few mora and then when he noticed you were keeping circular gold coins, he started giving you the same looking coins whenever he sees one; it felt like you were robbing the place.
“Thank you, Kabu—” you clammed your mouth again. “Just… thank you.”
Clearly, as someone who never really had a social life, the puppet didn’t know how to respond to you, and your heart softened immensely. You continued, “The response usually is… ‘you are welcome’ or ‘you’re welcome’... It also can be ‘no problem’ if you weren’t burdened by what you were doing or ‘I’m happy to help’.”
“You’re welcome.”
Your heart warmed up, but then you realized that the reason why the puppet responded that way is because he probably can’t distinguish his own feelings right now; he had no lessons about his feelings and most likely didn’t know if he felt burdened by helping you or if he was happy to help.
You felt like going on your knees, crying and groveling in pain, because you messed up with him each time you opened your mouth to say something.
In the end, the last place you two checked just had to be the exit; you never tried to open it but it was the last door there, so it could be it for real, but you can’t find yourself to open it with the puppet in your presence.
“I realized you were looking for doors,” the puppet says. “Are you leaving?”
You don’t understand why he said leaving as if he didn’t plan to leave himself. You looked at him and whispered, “I really liked your company, even if I want you to come with me, I can’t do anything for you out there… I don’t know what will be out there, and I can’t help you…”
It was painful that you had to make the decision for the both of you, because you can’t trust the puppet, who barely had any interactions or say at the start of his life, make a decision; it was like he was a child in your eyes.
“You don’t know what’s out there?” he asked, his head tilting to look at you and your expression; he noticed that the redness of your eyes and nose disappeared. “How did you find me?”
“I wasn’t really looking for you, I was looking for a place to stay because it’s cold outside,” you said before you realized that barely hours had passed so it could still be cold outside. “I… you won't happen to be bothered if I stay, do you?”
“Can I… know more about you?”
He is so cute, once again, you want to grovel and cry about what he was going to go through and the fact you could do something about it but you didn’t want to because you weren’t confident enough to give him a better life.
You nodded before you sat down near the exit, leaning your back on the wall. You smiled at him and then pats the space beside you, at least, you want to try being beside a character you deeply adored.
Perhaps he felt some connection with you.
The puppet asked about your life and the basic information you know about Teyvat; he felt something he couldn’t point out when you told him that you don’t know anyone outside, it’s as if you two are new to the world, but you were human, no?
He doesn’t understand how you don’t know anyone and no one knows you, certainly, you’ve been outside longer than he was.
You had to pretend that you’ve been sheltered and it’s your first time going outside, which was, in a way in your modern life, true; you were quite introverted. He sensed a connection there.
He suddenly claims that he wants to go outside with you; he wants to experience what it is like outside too, with you, who he felt a connection with—someone he could relate to—someone he thinks he can trust, even if he wasn’t familiar with that concept yet.
You tried to explain to him that it won’t be easy, but he still wants to be with you still, you two are exploring the world for the first time, and he likes that thought.
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You didn’t try to give him a name, even as he held your hand when you two left the domain after you took a nap to see that the sun was rising.
It wasn’t inevitable, when you entered that domain, you could’ve steeled your heart to go through everything and then leave him, but you couldn’t just ignore him, because for you, he was human.
He wanders around a lot, had you not been holding his hand, you would’ve lost him already, but you did let go of his hand and let him explore, just hoping he would scream if he ever encountered anything—not that you can save him though, but will save him.
You looked at the domain, trying to remember where Tatarasuna was. Maybe, just maybe, if he’s not too attached, you can safely leave him with the first person that ever found him: Kisaragi.
Tatarasuna was near a domain, but this domain, what domain is it? You don’t even remember. If Kisaragi found the puppet, then Tatarasuna must be nearby, no?
You look back to see that if you squint, you can see Seirai Island. You really must be near Tatarasuna, if you keep walking, you’re bound to find it—or if you wait Kisaragi might come by the domain and find you two.
You kneel away from the water and drop all the currency from the pouch; Mora was something you had a lot of in the game before you started leveling up a lot of characters just because you like them.
It can barely be used for food. You barely had 50 Mora with you.
The puppet watches you curiously and he comes back and kneels down beside you, wondering about your expression as your finger circles around the coin, refusing to acknowledge that you barely have money to go on.
You look at the puppet, prompting him to look at you. He’s so pretty and so carefree since he barely knows anything yet, and you didn’t want to teach him about poverty so early.
“Did you finish looking around?” you ask as you gather the coins and put them back in the pouch, and the pouch didn’t have some sort of void so you can feel its weight.
He nodded and you smiled at him; it won’t be easy to decide his future. You didn’t want to change his life in the game you were in, but you also didn’t want him to go down the road he did.
“Come on…” you stood up and offered your hand to him, hopefully, you would spot chests or eggs to cook. “Let’s look for a place to stay, but if we can’t… we might have to go back here and then look around again.”
hzn ┊ IF YOU NEED TO BE MEAN BE MEAN TO ME :((( this is spoiler for the future chapters, ngl i want to put them in one but for some reason i limit myself to 2-3k words per post. im so not over his backstory even though i havent played it yet like i dont wanna break my heart
Hi! I'm so glad you decided to continue working on Princess Arrival!!!! There is so little Neige content out there, and there is even less yandere Neige, so I'm really, truly happy that you fed the starving crowd (read: me). Please keep doing the lord's work and know that there will always be someone who loves your writing 💖
ACTUALLY EVEN I WAS SURPRISED BC I DIDNT PLAN ON WRITING PT.2 BC I THOUGHT THE FIRST PART WAS ENOUGH, but then i listened to pretty please and i folded
✦ ┊ song and dance competition with neige leblanche.
what to know ┊ this contains light swearing, implication of unrequited love, manipulation, slight yandere behavior, book 5 spoilers, and all that goes along with it.
parts ┊ part one, part two (you are here), part three, part four, and headcanons
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“Neige broke the school rules for what?”
It was a rumor that spread around Royal Sword Academy, merely a few days before the cultural fair known as Song and Dance Competition where Neige and the seven dwarves would be participating in.
Neige, the overly kind actor, suddenly—according to the rumors—rebelled against the rules of the academy by using a broom during practice for the cultural fair to fly outside the academy to save Night Raven College’s students.
It was not unusual for him to break the school rules since there were incidents where he would help other students and unknowingly go against the rules for them; he would apologize and everything would be in the past.
“I heard they had the fight on camera,” a student whispered, referring to a floating camera paparazzis set up to capture any little information about the artist. “But it was deleted world-wide…”
“Dear merciful seven, Ortho, thank you so much!” you exclaimed as you felt your heart stop racing, your face going near the floating screen, seeing the complete progress of deletion of a certain video. “I was about to start crying.”
“Yeah, Vil drilled on us for a long time…” Deuce responded and Epel nodded beside you. “We owe you one, Ortho.”
“You did promise to help my brother grind on his account so he can focus on preparing for his presentation,” the humanoid said, pointing at you, who nodded profusely with gratitude. “Brother said he’d even hack into the gadgets of those who still have the video if you do well.”
Epel had gotten extremely upset at one point that he left the scene, while he was walking, Deuce borrowed a blastcycle from an Ignihyde student and picked up Epel to drive him somewhere, and out of concern, you tagged along.
Who was supposed to know that there would be thugs there? Your instinct was to call someone close and famous—Neige LeBlanche—but you didn’t also know that he was popular to the point of being stalked whenever he’s outside the campus’ protection.
“You got the most earful, prefect,” Deuce sighed. “Who knew he would ask you on a date after that and it was caught on camera?”
“He just wanted to have a few hours of my time after the competition, it’s not a date,” you said, acting like you did not spend the hours overthinking what he wanted from you. “Perhaps a tour at the academy.”
Epel grimaced, “He’ll only be coming over at Night Raven College once, he doesn’t need to be toured around.”
“And you didn’t really owe him anything,” Deuce said. “I think I developed my unique magic and I planned on using it, if he didn’t arrive, I would’ve knocked ‘em out so we can escape still!”
“I’m a third year and I was the most useless of all,” you muttered, groaning internally as Ortho moved to pat your back gently, but the coldness of the materials used on his palm seeped through your clothes and it made you uncomfortable. “Thanks, Ortho…”
“Still, I think Vil-san is grateful that you didn’t let us act… violent,” Epel said even though he hated the thought of not being able to do anything during that situation and let Deuce take almost everything.
“Yo! Break time’s done, Vil’s calling everyone to go back to practice.”
“Oh, thank you again, Ortho. I’ll come by your dorm after practice so I can start grinding.”
“Nice to meet you and bye, Ortho!”
“Is something wrong, Rook?”
“I wish I was you.”
“What?”
“Moi?”
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On the day of the fair, you had to stop your racing heart and mind from trying to distract you from what the fair artist would want to give you, because you had to put your focus on Trey and Riddle was trying to explain to you.
Riddle had you pause for a moment since you commented that you liked the way his tie was tied, prompting him to attempt to do it on your collar and you felt a little happy—happily distracted from what Neige wanted to ask from you.
“We’ve got a lot of visitors from Royal Sword Academy this year,” Trey said and you nodded, your chin hitting Riddle’s hand, prompting him to destroy the ribbon he was making and you sent an apologetic gaze.
“I’ll try to look around too, I’ll try selling my ticket—”
“The others would be sad to know that ‘ya weren't there, ya’know?”
“I’ve been with you all for two months,” you said in your defense, but a part of you was curious about the contestants. “The campus is filled with hot headed students, had it not been for Leona, I would’ve gotten bullied for the nth time, and most students actually dislike Royal Sword—”
— W H A M !
“Hey, punk. You’ve got snot all over my uniform. You’re not even gonna apologize?”
“I said I was sorry… A... Achoo!”
“Ewww! He sent more snot flyin’ our way!”
“By accent, you’d know it’s a NRC student,” you mumbled as RIddle stopped trying to tie your tie since he had to check on the incident. “Oh… Is that…?”
“Snick! Here, blow your nose.”
“Dominic!” you called as Riddle released you so you can head over to the dwarves. “How are you all here—”
“[name]-san,” the short gray-haired dwarf said, looking surprised, but he had to look away to apologize to the Night Raven College students Snicked bumped into. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your uniforms.”
“You bet you will,” A student said and then at you. “Would ‘ya look at here—”
“Yes?” Riddle steps in, looking a little irked at the possibility of physical altercations happening on the campus on the very first day of the fair. “The culture fair has barely opened its doors, and picking fights is not a choice here.”
“Tsk.”
“How basic…” you muttered as you watched the students walk away upon being busted by the prefect of Heartslabyul. “Your reputation really goes around, Riddle… but are you guys okay, Dominic?”
“Thanks for the help,” Dominic says as he smiles at you, Grim, and the Heartslabyul students beside you. “As you can see…”
“Yeah, whatever, I coulda taken those guys with or without your help,” a pinkish haired dwarf grumbled, looking and most likely feeling ungrateful.
“Grum! Must you do this every time?” Dominic asked, his tone a little scolding as you felt a little uncomfortable with the slight bratty attitude from Grum. “Neige won’t be happy to hear you’re talking like that to [name]-san.”
“[name]—” Grum stuttered as you blinked, confused.
“Oh…!” Snick said, his voice sounding a little muffled.
“By the way, why are you all here?” you asked as Trey watched from behind. “This is far from the purple stage… or the lockers for the people involved in the competition.”
“Oh, yes, have you seen four other dwarves?” Dominic asked and Riddle shaked his head.
“I’m afraid not, would you like me to have the broadcast club page them?”
“I can help look,” you volunteered just before you felt a presence by your head that caused shivers up your spine.
“Oh, how ameowzing, to meet the talk of Royal Sword Academy~”
Grim purred quite loudly before exclaiming, “A floating severed head!”
“Che’nya…” you muttered as a hand went up to your forehead.
“Che’nya!?” the Heartslabyul prefect and vice exclaimed.
“Heh heh heh, is he a human? Is he a cat? He’s a mysterious and magical fellow,” the half-cat creature said with a grin. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker! Thaaat’s me!”
“Artemiy, have you seen the rest of the dwarves?” you asked before you remembered his words. “What do you mean I’m the talk of your school?”
“Surely you’ve known,” Dominic says, wanting to explain, but his friends were missing. “Long story short, the video. Che’nya could explain.”
“Oh no…” you muttered, wanting to hide your face from the world and you looked down to do just that, but you noticed your disarrayed tie. “Oh, Riddle, could you…?”
Your focus flew quickly as Chenya said, “If you’re on the purrowl for your friends, I saw ‘em go that way and around the corner.”
“Thanks a bunch, if you’ll excuse us, [name] and NIght Raven College students,” Dominic said as you waved, smiling as Riddle moved to fix your tie, and Dominic’s smile fell a little, so did the other dwarves.
“Is something wrong?” you muttered.
“See ya around!” Aritemy bid the dwarves on their way. “Furtionately, the video was taken down.”
“Nice to see you, Che’nya,” Riddle says, pausing on your tie first. “I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I apologize for neglecting to get back to you.”
“About the video…?” Trey asked.
“As Aritemy said, fortunately, I had it taken down by Ortho,” you said as Riddle finished up quickly on your tie and you paused, getting a little distracted. “Oh, I’m coquette.”
You didn’t mean it seriously. Che’nya continued, “Y’know NRC students got in a fight near our school? They were recorded and Neige dropped by to save them and it ended with Neige asking [name] on a da—”
“It was a misunderstanding,” you cut in before you felt like you were rude for doing so. “I’m sorry Aritemy, I don’t mean to be rude, but everyone—this is just justification at this point—but everyone has been calling it a date.”
“A date?” Trey asked as Riddle’s eyes only widened a little. “But you said the video was taken down? For your privacy, [name], that’s good news. And for us, mind if we catch up later instead?”
“Certainly! I’ll get outta your hair!”
“And Che’nya, don’t use your signature spell to spook any other visitors, okay?”
“No promises~”
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“That [name] doesn’t really stick out,” Grum muttered as he walked with the others to the dressing room, his hand being held by another dwarf to avoid getting lost. “They seem bland for Neige.”
“You met…?” a cheerful dwarf asked, eyes gleaming. “Oh! I wish I hadn’t gotten lost!”
“Grum, had it not been for [name]-san, we would’ve engaged in a fight,” Dominic said as he led the group of dwarves to the dressing room. “What Neige saw in [name]-san is not our business, and [name]-san is incredibly nice.”
“You saw [name]?”
“Oh, Neige!” Snick chimed before looking away to sneeze again, prompting Dominic to sigh and hand him a handkerchief. “They helped us earlier!”
“Do you remember where they were?” Neige asked, helping Snick wipe his nose but promptly pulled away to look outside the dressing room for [name]’s presence. “I…”
A dark feeling washed over him; it felt unfair for them to be able to see you first before he did when he arrived first to the dressing room, expecting you to be near Night Raven College’s side on the team.
It felt so unfair. He was the one who missed you the most, he thought. His rosy lips pressed on each other softly then he’d bite on a tiny part of his bottom lip as he looked for you outside the stage.
“Neige?” Dominic asked, concerned over his friend’s well-being.
Neige had been over the moon ever since he ‘saved’ you from those thugs even if you were with other people; he was a fan to the flames of rumors about him asking you on a date because he liked the thought of it.
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were extremely supportive about it too.
There’s a few Night Raven College students nearby and they were talking, some of them looked happy to receive the attention of the reporters and some of them are getting nervous about it.
There’s a ginger who was a little nervous yet tried to make a rational decision, and the main of the team, Vil Schoeheit—Neige hasn’t met him in a while—but that must be your team, he could find you through them.
“[name]!” Neige chimed.
“Where!?”
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were insanely curious.
“Neige…” the actor said as Neige cuts in the middle of the talk of their team with a smile and wave towards the members, but ultimately going to you.
“Oh, Neige,” you smiled politely, but you were not comfortable with him walking up to you and focusing on you, especially after that one viral video. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s been forever!” he smiled, more than you did, without a care in the world, unlike you. “I should’ve told you to wait for me in the gate, you haven’t been responding to me, you promised me your time—”
“So that’s Neige LeBlanche…” Ace muttered. “No wonder he’s a household name, even the way he walks and talks is perfectly choreographed.”
“He’s not giving off the intense aura Vil has…” Kalim whispers.
“His smile is entirely unlike Vil’s. It is unaffected, like a tiny flower blooming—it’s different! Oui! The cameras better take this in all angles! And first-name basis!?”
“Hmph, the more innocuous someone looks, the worse they’re likely to act behind the scenes,” Jamil huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s how entertainers are.”
“Do you have any room to talk there?” Grim whispered before he frowned when Neige took your hand. “I don’t like this! Why is he all up on [name]!?”
“Oooh, I mean ‘ya can’t expect Grim to know, he doesn’t really have a phone,” Epel says, sighing. “Or [name] limits you to screentime?”
“—I missed you!” Neige exclaims after the long speech about what he should’ve said and done so you and him would meet sooner. “While we’re here we should have others take our picture—”
“Excuse me, Night Raven College entrants! It’s time for your rehearsal. Please stand by!”
“I really… really appreciate your words, Neige,” you whisper, not wanting anyone to know what you were telling him. “It’s quite hard to miss you when you occupy my mind a lot, you know?”
You wanted to let him down a little, and not tell him he occupied most of your time during practice due to his constant texts, that you couldn’t say to tone it down, and as for your lack of responses, it was because you put it on silent mode for Riddle and Trey.
Neige froze and your arm flinched ever so slightly when his grip on your hand tightened. He stuttered, “Me—me too! To you…!”
“If you’ll excuse our manager, Neige,” Vil cuts in and places a hand on your shoulder, gently. “We need them for the rehearsal.”
“Oh, right, sorry, Neige,” you say, embarrassed since you took a bit too long in trying to shoo Neige away for the rehearsal. “Perhaps later.”
“Later—okay!” the artist accepted it so quickly and he nodded. “I’m looking forward to your performance!”
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The first years were confident, but you, Vil, and possibly Rook would know that the team had been outplayed by the performance of Royal Sword Academy, whose performance was not in synchronized.
It was a different type of charisma, and you didn’t wish that Neige would lose but you didn’t want your team to lose either, especially not when Vil’s sanity thread was thinning.
“Vil…?” you whispered as you walked with the model, trying to catch up, but scared to hold his arm. “Vil.”
It’s not that you and him were strangers, it was just that his vibe felt different—unapproachable—and you wanted to know why without further triggering the seemingly trance he was in.
Vil paused in front of someone’s dressing room, but turned to you, who was confused. To him, he was confused about you, he discreetly confided in you, and he knew you picked up on the depth of his dislike towards Neige but you still got involved with him.
“You should go back,” he said, a bottle of juice in his hand and you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong with the bottle he was holding.
“Of course, but…” you said, trying to make up with an excuse on the spot without telling Vil straight up that you felt like you currently couldn’t trust him to be alone. “Neige was kind of… calling me over.”
It was a lie. Neige did want to talk to you, but there’s no specified date and time.
Your heart pounded as Vil right now felt dangerous for you, every bit of him felt off for you, and it wasn’t the same as when you found him intimidating when you two first met and started talking.
“I see, so you’re with Neige too,” the actor muttered and now you tried to get close, but the door to the dressing room opened on its own and you paused.
“Oh, Vi,” Neige’s head peeked out of the door, his gaze going to Vil and then to you, his eyes brightened visibly, much to Vil’s dismay. “Oh! [name]-san…! It’s good to see you again—do you want to come in?”
“Ah…” you muttered and you smiled a little, albeit awkwardly as you glanced at Vil to check and then at the ominous bottle. “Of cour—”
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk before rehearsals,” Vil cuts in and you swore you saw Neige flinch back a little when the actor covered your frame. “I was hoping we might chat a bit more.”
“Oh, of course,” Neige said as he stepped out of the dressing room. “I was thinking the same thing, why don’t you two come in—”
“Vil, the rest might be looking for us,” you said, hoping to convince Vil to drop what he might be planning as you gently pinched his sleeve, not wanting to cause a fold. “Even if there’s time—”
As soon as you touched Vil’s sleeve, Neige’s hand clasped around your wrist, and he didn’t seem to mind, he just smiled at you, adding up to your burdens since you felt like something was awfully wrong and Neige wasn’t helping.
“It’s okay! You can stay,” Neige said, trying to convince you and Vil, but mostly Vil since you seem to be following the actor around. “Dominic and the others aren’t around, they can’t really sit still so they’re at the booths. We have a lot of time to talk and I… I have something for you.”
You did not know what to say, because you needed to get Vil away from Neige as soon as you could, not only for Neige’s safety, but also for Vil; you can’t wreck your brain how else you could take Vil away when Neige was clinging.
It was not that you didn’t appreciate that the artist was so open to your presence and would always make you feel welcomed, but the situation was quite dire and having Vil approach Neige right after their performance felt so wrong.
“Speaking of something, I have something for you, Neige,” Vil says, holding you by the other arm causing you to look at Vil with concern. “I brought you some apple juice. I’ve been quite taken with this brand recently.”
“Oh! The one you posted about in Magicam!” Neige says, but his eyes were quick to look at the bottle since his eyes immediately went down on Vil’s hand on your arm. “I’ve been waiting to try it… thank you.”
“I—I’ll hold it,” you cut in but you can’t take the bottle when Neige’s hand is tightly on your arm and Vil has the other. “Since Neige and I will talk anyways…”
You looked over at Neige, hoping he would catch on your words and take you away; the glint in his eyes told you he did and the way he moved to wrap his hands on your arm seemed like he was going to take you away.
You were so wrong. He took the bottle and said, “Ah! Yes, we’re going to talk! Are you thirsty, [name]? Do you mind if we share the drink?”
All that was on Neige’s mind was an indirect kiss that happened in movies that he starred in, long filmings that he was in, and he was not the main character of those movies, but he watched people do it.
He watched people get giddy over it and didn’t understand it until now. He wanted to have your lips on his even if it comes from items, even better if it came directly from the source: you.
Your face nearly displayed a horrified expression upon his words, because his words meant you’d have to drink it first and the drink was the item you were most suspicious about.
“I…” you gulped.
You didn’t want Vil to find out you might’ve caught up to what he might be doing, and you didn’t want Neige to know what Vil was doing, because as far as you know they both knew each other and Neige genuinely liked Vil.
This was what you get for looking at both sides. You became the sacrifice and you didn’t know if you minded or not, because you cared less about what happened to you, more on the consequences.
“Should I drink first?” Neige asked. “But I…”
To Neige’s point of view, if he drinks first, you might avoid the place where he drank at and he would miss the opportunity to drink again if you chug the entire drink, he’s not sure if you would or wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to miss the chance.
You took too long and Vil might get suspicious. You grabbed the uncapped drink, much to Vil’s surprise that he released your hand as you said, “No, it’s okay, I can take it first…”
When you saw Vil surprised, it was the validation you needed that your instincts were correct and that something was wrong.
There were small traces of mist coming out; if it were a cold drink, you’d assume it was from the coldness, but the drink was quite lukewarm.
You’ve witnessed Vil’s unique magic, you learned that he can put any rules or conditions that he can’t even reverse, and you weren’t sure what the condition of the drink was, but there you were, placing the rim on your bottom lip.
“Henchman!”
Grim suddenly jumped on your arm and caused the bottle to fall down because you didn’t want to drink it in the first place, and at the same time, you see Rook and Kalim on their way.
You held Grim properly in your arms before you grabbed Neige by the arm, wrapping your arm over his and then you led him away so he wouldn’t see the drink bubbling on the ground.
Your heart was at your ears, you can’t let Neige find out about Vil, because if it goes public, Vil’s reputation would die—you felt incredibly stressed and Grim was stimulating you more by shoving his paws on your chin and asking what was going on.
It was such a huge difference compared to Neige, who happily clung to your arm with his head on your shoulders, speechless by how you apparently ‘whisked’ him away like that, and you only snapped out of your trance when Jamil waved you over.
“Excuse me, you’re Neige LeBlanche, yes?” Jamil asked and Neige was even hesitant to open his eyes to look at him because he was comfortable on your shoulder. “I’m such a huge fan! I can’t believe I met you in person—and [name]... is this your… lover?”
Your jaw dropped at Jamil’s words as Grim exclaimed, “MYAH—”
“Oh! It’s not like that, but I appreciate your—”
Neige only wanted to look Jamil in the eyes in order to memorize his features since he was a Night Raven College student and seemingly your friend, but he was easily hypnotized by Jamil and you rubbed your forehead.
“Thanks for the save,” you whispered. “I’ll gaslight him later.”
A lot of things happened and Neige still couldn’t even read the room, you hesitate, wondering if it was right to keep such a person on your side, even Kalim could read the room better than Neige could.
You let out a breath as Jamil ordered Neige to sing and dance away from the entire coliseum; you have no idea where Neige would go, but hopefully, it would be far away from the purple stage—and you hoped he would leave quickly since the skies started to darken as a symbol Vil was overblotting.
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When others waited for Vil to wake up, you had to sit and try not to think too much because of the constant happenings all within one hour; it didn’t feel right to blame Neige.
It didn’t feel right to blame Neige for the castings of the movies, and that he was always chosen as a hero when Vil was always chosen as a villain and was compared to how Neige presents himself.
You couldn’t help but think that Neige was ignorant, and at the same time, you also thought about the possibilities Neige went through as a person and artist with all that ignorance and naivety.
And what’s up with Neige? He has no danger sensors, but Vil was a good actor so it could be quite impossible to know he had malicious intentions and you only knew because you were with him before the incident.
“Should I be happy I got you thinking?” Vil asked. “Did you know what the condition was?”
He was being supported by Rook and the other dancers were trying to figure out how to fix the colosseum; Vil was not exactly happy, he remembered the way the drink’s rim was in your mouth and had it not been for Grim, who knew what could happen to you?
You shake your head and that didn’t make Vil feel any better—not that he ever will be since you still nearly drank it.
“I thought it was fine,” you muttered, sighing. “Rook would’ve done the same.”
“You would?”
“Oui, I would want to believe in you, the you who strives harder and reaches for greater heights than any other. I don’t want you to besmirch yourself by doing anything foolish.”
“I just happen to feel the same,” you muttered, even though you hesitated. “I don’t want your reputation to be ruined, Vil. I’ll carry your poison to my grave.”
“You’ve barely been here for a year,” Vil said and you’re reminded by your supposed home in a world different from where you currently sat. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.”
“I would, if it helps,” you laughed a little, unable to handle the serious moment, especially when the tension was crushing you a little. “I’d forgive you, Vil, I really… believe you are a kind person.”
In a moment of vulnerability, Vil’s chest clenched; he didn’t know you well, only knowing you from a few lessons in class because of you being a third year, but you do catch his attention on a few occasions.
Occasions such as you being knowledgeable in skin care, or the you that one time offered to give his face a massage while he stayed at Ramshackles; occasions that send his heart fluttering.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” a horned person stood nearby and you looked over. “I thought I’d arrive a bit early, and what do I find but a stage laid to waste?”
“Oh, Hornton…” you muttered, a little embarrassed like you’ve been caught even if you had done nothing but bare your feelings to both Rook and Vil. “There’s still two hours before the competition opens.”
“Hornton…!?”
“Oh, hey! So you’re the Hornton guy that wanders around Ramsheckle’s gardens late at night,” Grim said, earning the attention of the first and second years as if the third years weren’t already surprised by you. “I heard about you from [name], you really do have horns growin’ outta your head! Myah hah hah—MRAH!”
“Grim, are you nuts!?” Deuce whispered his hiss as he held Grim to his chest with a hand on his mouth. “Y-you can’t just talk to an upperclassman that way!”
“Roi des Dragons, how did you get into the coliseum?” Rook asked, earning a huff from the person.
“I was invited, by the child of man living in Ramshackle Dorm. I have my invitation right here.”
“I don’t think it’s that…” you said as you got up and dusted your bum. “The venue still has that mist, but for some reason you’re unscathed? Isn’t it the poison mist from Vil’s unique magic?”
“I suppose there was some sort of cantrip up when I came in,” the man said. “But no curse, no matter how powerful, will work on me.”
“I see you’ve taken advantage of [name]’s ignorance,” Vil said as he huffed.” Malleus Draconia.”
“Oh dang…” you muttered, remembering the times you heard his name but never saw him during the Spelldrive tournament because of the flying disk that went to your head.
hzn ┊ DAMN I LOST MY CHANCE TO PUT MANIPULATIVE NEIGE AGAJFJFHJFG BECAUSE VDC TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG. but anyways… i’m not too proud of it but i want to just post whatever i write since i have no job and i’m waiting for college to start. Original title was pretty please and it inspired me so bad but goddamn :((
✦ ┊ neige leblanche yan headcanons related to princess arrival. (more to be added)
what to know ┊ this includes the writer's perception towards neige, mentions of murder, slight obsessive behavior and all that goes with it.
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Neige won't notice your discomfort towards him, but he can notice if you are uncomfortable with someone else's presence.
He's the type of person who would fall in love at first sight or be incredibly infatuated with someone.
He could either be incredibly flustered yet calm at the same time or be all sunshine and butterflies while thinking of murder.
Neige can bear liking towards many, but is loyal to only one if he's in a commitment.
He can fall for anyone, but if that someone doesn't shake him off, he'll think that they're the one.
He holds no grudge against the person he likes if they're blunt with him, telling him that they don't like him that way or that they just don't like him in general. He just thinks that they're not the one.
His darling is in danger if they act polite despite disliking Neige because Neige will never get the hint!
It won't matter much if the person he likes uses him for money, even if he feels like something is wrong with their relationship.
However, if he meets someone nice enough to raise awareness that that's not how relationships are supposed to go, he will leave his current one for someone else.
If he realizes that he's liking someone other than his current darling, he's going to make a scene over it and have crisis, the nice person would have to help him out until he decides he's going to choose them over the gold-digger.
Neige is nice... for someone who's obsessive.
Yet he's insanely and unintentionally manipulative.
He can be really clingy.
He can cry at will to guilt-trip you.
And he cries too if he's really hurt by your actions.
An ideal person would be...
Someone who is clueless about his moves and someone who is really polite despite being uncomfortable with him.
He'd like anyone who makes time for him and is doting.
Someone who relies on him for a considerate amount or when they're in danger, but at the same time, he also wants to be the one in distress.
He'll also pursue someone who doesn't know how to refuse.
He likes you even if you're a bit blunt, like when it comes to fashion or when you try to warn him about people taking advantage of him because he thinks you do it because you care.
hzn ┊ i think he's a famous model—mostly actor, it was seen on book 5 that he is sponsoring something and vil mentioned how he is always a villain and that neige is always portrayed like a heroine. i can assume that he's naive and an airhead—maybe highkey sensitive as well. i don't know how models work but he is so clueless about what vil felt during book 5 and the time they spent together during elementary. (there are all written in my notebook since october 19, 2022 but im posting old notes because i want to remove the bookmarks)
✦ ┊ as if staining his hands with other's blood wasn't enough, kuniuzushi plans to avenge you.
what to know ┊ this is confusing, has modern swearing, mentions of illness, fantasized images of nobilty, delusional moments, disturbing details, and death.
parts ┊ part one, part two (you are here), possible third part, and rewritten version.
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At that point, Kunikuzushi couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not.
His breathing was shallow as he faced the ceiling of the home he built with you, and his head pounded, feeling disoriented and not remembering what he had dreamed of that caused him such emotions.
He felt as though his throat was parched and his eyes stung—irritated, as if they needed to be wiped in order to be relieved.
For some reason, he felt suffocated, but hasn't he always felt that way? Ever since the day he realized that your time was shorter than his, that he was losing you, and he couldn't do anything about it other than try to extend it just a tiny little bit?
Your time will never be longer than his—now that he thought of you, Kunikuzushi wondered where you were.
The thought of you was suffocating him oh-so-little, but he had to find you, the one to cause him pain and solace.
Where even are you?
He hasn't seen you since he started recalling everything and being sentimental; he can feel his heart race at the possibility that you passed out somewhere around the house, so he gets up quickly.
The house was as empty as his stomach. You two take turns cooking, but ever since that day, he's been handling most of it, and he supervises you, which made you hit him with a pan on the head before.
Seeing you dozing off on the couch so motionless made him stop on his tracks; he felt relieved just to see you.
He sighs and sits on the armrest of the couch, which you scolded him about before since the couch was big for the two of you, but right now, you were taking up all the space—you with your height and white gown.
"Why the heck are you on the couch?" Kunikuzushi mutters as he brushes his fingertips on your cheekbone and up to your temple to brush the stray hair aside.
The feeling of your skin and the way your hair moved were weird; since when did you dye your hair a different shade of [color]? It looked lighter than usual; he even remembers the way it glistens under the sun and the moon.
Are you holding your breath like he is right now? If you are, why?
Your face didn't have the oily skin or the small red patches that you were insecure about, and even the small mole you had was gone.
Those facts were alarming, which was why he got off the armrest to kneel by your side on the couch to see you better than where he was sitting earlier.
"[name]," he whispers, his voice laced with the tint of fear as his fingers glide over the gown you wore to find the ticklish points you used to have.
You knew he was sensitive to this subject, yet you chose to prank him about it, and he felt a bit of anger towards you because of it.
Kunikuzushi looked for the ticklish points you used to have; he knew that you'd wake up if he either pressed too hard on the spot or if he did find the right spot.
Were you that sort of person to pretend to be so still and motionless to the point of not breathing?
You're odd: your skin, your form of lying, and the way you refused to breathe, but you've always been odd because you loved and you loved—and you just loved him and his flaws—and what you took from him, you returned it all ten times more.
You were never this still, as you were so full of life, like when you waved at him when you two were on the other side of the street—like when your teeth showed as you smiled upon the success of buying an item you waited for months for because it was only out during festivals—like in his dream.
Now, when did that happen? What dream?
What festival? You two haven't even gone to the festival. Kunikuzushi felt like he was losing a part of himself whenever he started to remember memories that never existed.
"You're being too much now," his voice cracked unintentionally, making sure to project as much emotion as he could so you'd understand that your prank was going too far.
You were so aware of his well-being and his mental state that you'd know when you crossed the line; if his tone were ever akin to begging, you crossed the line, and you couldn't resist wrapping him in your arms and comforting him.
"Joke's over, you still have to take your medicine."
Even if you didn't promise forever, you promised you'd try—something he believed in because Kunkuzushi saw you and knew that you truly were trying to extend your time.
He waited for any reaction from you, whether it'd be you stifling your laughter, your lips thinning, or waking up and apologizing—at this rate, he'd take anything just to hear you breathe.
He wraps an arm around your nape and another around your waist to gently pull you up and make you sit up—now, he only felt the lines for the first time—lines that ran on your nape and up.
Your back leaned on the couch, and your head was still, so it was tilted upwards and leaning on the back rest, so your hair was exposing the lines that he felt earlier.
The truth was already in the back of his mind, but he wasn't like you, who faced and accepted the pressure and the reality.
Your nape and up had stitches, and your skin felt like actual silk.
He couldn't breathe as he took note of the lightness of your body—he couldn't take it; he wasn't like you; he couldn't be able to accept a fact like this like you could.
Kunikuzushi wasn't ready to face the truth; both his hands moved to rest on your hips as he buried his face on your stomach.
Your gown—it wasn't the nightgown he bought for you at the same price as nobles do just so you could rest comfortably in silk—no, it was the gown of one who died and is about to be placed on a casket.
He can't tell what he was thinking; his mind goes into one thought, then another at the same time, and then another.
You're a liar, and he was delusional—his mind—thoughts—begged for you to cut off the entire joke you were still continuing for the past ten minutes.
How could you remain so serious while he is there—touching all he can of you with his head on your chest, uncaring if your body was nearly falling off the couch by the way he drags you down to the floor with your legs on the sides of his body?
Your husband craves your heart.
Was this the compensation of the noble who ran over you with their carriage in a hurry?
The memory of the festival that happened hours earlier, one he deluded to be a nightmare, the memory of how loudly he yelled after seeing your body trampled on and how surprised you were before everything just faded.
The love you continuously gave him was gone, taken by something that wasn't even related to the illness that was slowly eating away your life.
How twisted are they to compensate him by dressing you in silk and a gown? To patch up the face of his spouse and didn't even put the tiniest details you had—how half-assed—how dare they even touch you?
Kunikuzushi cried, but he promises it would be the last.
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The gods are playing a joke with him because the same coach and the same noble arrived at the front of his house specifically after a week of when your funeral was held.
His blood boiled quick at the sight of them, but after hearing that she was around the festival area on that day because they were searching for him, he almost lost it.
Kunikuzushi can't help but laugh as though he were unhinged, and he laughed even if the noble looked at him oddly and strictly—or if tears were stinging his eyes—because he indirectly caused your death.
In terms of political standing, you dislike the way the noble in front of him ruled her kingdom—the woman who bore the same features as Kunikuzushi and the woman he remembered from when he was abandoned in the street.
Kunikuzushi must be cursed.
The woman was asking for her son's assistance in leading the kingdom as she'd be recuperating—she did directly apologize to him, but in his eyes, what would this woman know?
She took the solace he had, the serenity that made the house a home, and taught him to see things from different perspectives.
What would his mother know? What would Ei know about what she so easily discarded after her so-called compensation?
You'd hate him if you knew what he was thinking—no, you wouldn't—because you'd attempt to talk him out of it, but right now, how would you?
How would you be able to talk Kunikuzushi out of his plans to use this as an opportunity to act on his revenge? To act on everything you taught him that you told him not to?
This was the opportunity to ruin everything this noble had—the noble woman who robbed him of the comfort of a childhood and robbed him of the comfort when he thought it would remain.
hzn ┊ kinda just wrote this in school while thinking of the necro's bride. I HAVE NOTHING MORE TO SAY.......
