A Shattered Illusion- A TFC x Ringmaster’s Child Reader Oneshot!
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≫ An idea I had at like 3 in the morning. This Reader/MC is portrayed as the lone child of the old circus ringmaster, one who learns the true nature behind the performances after spending too much time in the dark.
≫ This takes place an unspecified amount of time before the in-game events, but I wanted this to feel like it takes place in a distant past. How distant that past is, though, I’ll leave up to you.
≫ CWs include: Depictions of death, starvation, cannibalism, violence/cruelty/abuse in many forms, sexual harassment, manipulation, religious allusions relating to Christianity (use of bible verses), and themes of blasphemy/heresy/apostasy/moral corruption.
≫ Word Count: 29.8k words. I got carried away… (ᵕ—ᴗ—) This is also crossposted on my Ao3 of the same name!
≫ Mild emetophobia warning! Brief mentions of v* and nausea. Stay safe and happy reading!
Your father always told you about monsters when you were small. Terrible and godless creatures that hid in the shadows and fissures beyond human society. Beasts sent from hottest hell to test mankind with their words and their deception.
They are not of this world, you’d hear him say. They use dark and wicked means to prey on the weaknesses of men, women, children, it didn’t matter. They crudely mimic human faces, hide amongst neighbors. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light, he’d recite.
Those stories scared you, made you hide under your covers at night. Your father would chuckle at your childish fear, and then warmly reassure you while readjusting your blankets that such beasts didn’t actually exist. They were stories made by the generations before you to warn against much more deceptive dangers—your fellow humans.
And you believed him. Why wouldn’t you? Your father was a smart man. He knew many things that others did not, and was right about many things. He knew how to work around people, knew how to keep himself and his lone child afloat after the death of your mother.
Whenever you’d try to make your own childish impulsive and stubborn decisions, he was always there, waiting for you to come back to him and admit that he was right, your gaze averted and words mumbled. He’d just smile knowingly at your (sometimes painfully) learned lesson. So you learned quite early on to trust in his judgements and decisions.
You had no reason to doubt him. And so you didn’t.
He raised you to be diligent and honest in all you did, but always warned you that the rest of the world was filled with sin and deception, and it would swiftly and unapologetically eat any unsuspecting person alive for one wrong move, one wrong decision. He raised you alone in the home you shared, always brushing off any ideas of you going out and doing things like exploring the world or meeting new people.
Such things are trivial, he said. Inconsequential distractions. Your duty was to your home, to your only remaining family, to him. Besides, the rest of the world was filled with all sorts of danger for such a good and naive soul like yourself. Be alert and of sober mind, he’d always tell you. Your enemy the Devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.
You weren’t trapped, and your father was never once cruel to you, but he made it clear that he expected certain things from you. And you obeyed. For the most part. You couldn’t help but daydream of more throughout your life, a habit your father said you inherited from him. You didn’t understand that at first.
When he came home to you one day with a grand and wondrous idea, a circus meant not only to inspire awe and excitement but also meant to incite renewed faith, you were amazed. What would that look like? What would it be like? How could those two things combine to create something unique?
You wouldn’t know, because your father kept it very hidden from all, including you. He’d sit all day in his study to do unknown things, and then sometimes go out for days or even weeks at a time on “business trips,” leaving you to care for yourself alone. All you knew was that one day, he came back from a work trip with strange ideas and even stranger new plans for his circus.
“With this circus, I’ll reveal the true nature of the creatures of the night. All will come, all will wish to see the shows unlike any other. They’ll be afraid. But I’ll show them that nothing is immune to being bent by human will. By God’s will.”
You didn’t understand what your father meant at all. Creatures of the night? Like the ones in little children’s stories and nursery rhymes? What did he mean? When you asked, he only gave a cryptic response that barely passed as an explanation.
People would travel far and wide to learn the meaning of faith and fear, he’d tell you. Fear is one of the things that leeches from a person’s heart and reveals their true nature. It could make warriors into cowards and criminals into saints. But faith is a thing just as strong and just as powerful if one knew to refine and test it properly. That’s what the circus would be for.
Your father held your shoulder with a determined look in his eyes while explaining his plans to you. He would use his circus to make the world a better place, and to bring you and him good and happy lives. It seemed he was quite adamant on making his ambition a reality.
You were hesitant. Your usually calm and collected father was sounding like a mad man. But he told you to trust him, to stay with him to help make his circus a success. And you agreed. (What else could you do?) The two of you packed your things and left your hometown behind to establish the troupe in another place.
The circus itself started out small, just a humble few tents on the outskirts of the town the two of you moved to. Your father oversaw the careful preparation and operation of the entire place, guiding you through your new life with words of reassurance. And you believed in his words, however doubtful you may have initially been. He had never failed you before, why would he fail in his endeavors now?
You were the one who stayed at the circus threshold, welcoming people in and bidding them goodbye on their way out and handing out flyers during the day. You were too young to see and fully understand the shows, your father told you. You trusted in his judgement, though not without light complaint. He just smiled and told you that you’d one day understand.
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
But you’d hear people come and go, hear their whispers of what they saw in the tents. Beasts unlike any seen before. Fearsome creatures born not of any God. You couldn’t even sneak a peek at the performances if you wanted to—hired men stood at every entrance to keep secrets in and non-paying strays out. Even you, much to your dismay.
Time passed. You were young, nearly on the cusp of adulthood when the circus first formed. But now you were grown, and so was the circus. The shows and performances proved to be irresistible and entertaining, unlike anything any person had ever seen before. Your father flourished in this new life.
And yet, you hadn’t caught even a glimpse of the shows your father oversaw. You saw the people he hired, saw handlers and other troupe members who managed smaller things, but you never saw even a single second of the actual shows that drew people in. You were horrifically curious.
He always seemed to know when you tried to sneak past the curtains to maybe just see a glance, as he would always be waiting, gentle chastisement already prepared no matter what time it was.
“I ask that you trust me, child. You are not yet ready for what waits behind the curtains. I will show you one day, but that day is not today.”
Father’s scoldings and chiding always made you scoff in frustration. You weren’t his tiny child scared of beasts hiding under your bed anymore. He asked you to trust him, but why didn’t he trust you? You desperately wanted to know the secrets behind the circus. Was it all just people in costumes? Was it a series of frightening stories being told? How did he manage to frighten visitors so thoroughly through his shows?
He never told you. Your father was a very closed-off man, one who acted as though the entire world were his stage to put on a show for. He never spoke of your mother after she died, never spoke of his own emotions, and yet he also never remarried. Sometimes you wondered if you knew the real version of him at all.
So many questions. So few answers, even after all this time.
Such questions lingered in your mind one night while trying to sleep after the shows had long since finished. You and your father both shared a private living space, but he was away doing who knows what so often that it was basically solely your space at this point. He slept in his private closed-off office area more often than not.
You didn’t resent that your father was often away for long periods of time, away and busy with the circus and keeping it orderly and running smoothly. This place, this circus, it was his dream to bring truth to light for many people. Except you, it seemed.
Well. Maybe you resented your father’s absence just a little.
That resentment wasn’t quelled by his warnings and promises of the future. Instead, it only festered and grew with time. It made you want to go against the strict rules surrounding the performances. Why did father have to keep secrets from you about the circus the two of you worked to maintain? Keeping show business secrets from the public was one thing, but his own child?
It was strange. After all this time, you couldn’t find a reason why he wouldn’t let you watch any of the shows, or why he wouldn’t even let you get a glimpse of what hid behind the scenes after the curtains fell.
Father tried to buy your understanding and complacency with things he knew you liked. He tried to keep you sated with the money he gained from the performances, gifting you books on topics he knew you liked or supplies for whatever craft you indulged in or expensive things in general that, while given with good intentions, had an underlying emptiness beneath them.
You couldn’t explain that feeling. But it felt as though he tried distracting you with the very worldly possessions he once warned you about in his teachings of sin and indulgences. You asked for nothing, only occasionally getting small and useful things for yourself with your own allowance.
But Father had changed. That much was clear. But you never said anything about it. He was happier now. He enjoyed being the ringmaster of his circus. Wasn’t that a good thing? Why weren’t you completely happy?
Of course, you didn’t want to seem ungrateful or spoiled, so you thanked your father and refrained from asking so much about the shows for as long as possible, suppressing that aching curiosity as best you could. But you could still hear the performances and the crowds from across the entire circus, and even caught brief snippets of the horrors within them from the whispers of guests as they arrived and left.
All signs pointed to beasts and creatures that you hadn’t thought of since childhood. Your father always told you that those old tales were metaphors, warnings about plain things like speaking to strangers at night or remaining wary of the dangers in many other things. But could the performances really just be stories? What was it that visitors spoke of so often?
Something wasn’t right. Or at the very least, your father wasn’t being fair in keeping you from knowing about the nature of the shows for so long. You had been obedient and dutiful your whole life, surely you were owed just this one answer.
You sat up in your bed that night, thoroughly unable to sleep with all of your questions and aching curiosity. Father couldn’t keep you in the dark your whole life. He couldn’t keep you caged like this for the rest of your days. If he wanted you to be loyal to him and the circus, then you at least wanted to know the ins and outs of it.
The longer you thought about it, the more ridiculous it became. Not only did your father keep you in the dark about his circus that you worked at, but he did that for years! Keeping showtime secrets was one thing, but it was all just a series of acts at the end of the day. A series of acts that you had no idea about even after all this time.
For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.
Your mind was made up. You were going to find out just what made this circus so secretive, even from its own workers. It was highly unlikely the hired men who guarded the tents even knew what they protected. Just how important was this secret? You had to know.
Father wasn’t watching you now.
Tiptoeing past your private area and towards the main tent with a thin blanket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the night’s chill, you waited and watched from a hiding spot for the men guarding the entrance to switch their shifts. Surely they couldn’t stand outside the opening forever.
Lo and behold, you were right. The two men both walked off to meet their replacements and switch their shifts, and you quickly dashed inside the large tent as quietly as you could, grabbing the ends of your blanket to prevent any sort of excess sound or creating a tripping hazard.
The inside of the tent itself was obviously dark, rows upon rows of empty seats filling the large space. It felt incredibly eerie to see the stark difference between a place you usually heard so loud and crowded be so vacant. You walked around past the seats and towards the center, not entirely sure what you were looking for.
The cold and unwelcoming quiet was starting to get to you. Shadows moved in ways they shouldn’t and the emptiness seemed eager to swallow you whole if you stayed still for too long. You clutched your blanket tighter, yet you still felt unbearably cold. You bit back a shiver to reduce as much noise as possible, even if there was technically nobody present to hear you.
That was what you assumed until you heard a sound of scratching against metal, and hushed low voices accompanying it. Your first instinct was to hide from anyone who could potentially discover you here, but the way the voices sounded made you take a few steps towards the source.
At the rear of the center performance ring was an opening to a smaller area that you assumed would be for showtime props and equipment, but that smaller area was where the voices were coming from. The voices were quiet and weak, and you could detect a handful of distinct ones. But what really intrigued you were the sounds of lightly scraping metal and…chains?
“How long has it been now…?” A light series of taps against metal accompanied a hoarse voice.
“Too many moons to count.” Another voice, this one less hoarse but much more hushed.
“How much longer? Until it ends?” That voice was gravelly, almost tearful sounding.
“I don’t know.” The first voice again.
Your curiosity was almost painful now. What was happening with these strange sounding people? Why did all of their voices sound strained, raspy, or otherwise pained? Were these people in need of help?
Your unquenched thirst for answers was a sinfully tempting and dangerous thing, you knew that. But never before had you remembered that harsh lesson so vividly than when you pushed the curtains aside to investigate the voices behind the stage.
The first thing you noticed was how thick and stale the air was. Even in the near pitch-blackness you could tell that the room was squalid and stifled with filth. And then your eyes adjusted.
There, in the dark, inside a series of tall metal cages, were five pairs of unnaturally glowing eyes, each of them a different color. There was a golden yellow pair on the left, then violet, then green, then cyan, and then a mismatched white and blue pair. In the center of the dark room—uncaged—was a pair of light pink eyes.
Every single one of those eyes stayed glued on your own.
Your heart stopped. Theirs did too, evidenced by the way the entire world seemed to go silent and reduce to just that single room, that single moment. Your lungs halted, breath still caught in your throat at what you were seeing.
These people, these…things, they weren’t natural. You watched as the creatures remained still as statues, watching you with bright eyes and huddled forms, though you could tell just from a glance that they were far, far larger and taller than you, than any human for that matter. There was no way these were where those voices were coming from. Those voices sounded like people’s voices.
But these things could only be described as monsters. Unholy abominations. The things that go bump in the night.
Even in the darkness, you could just barely make out the outlines of their unnatural forms, horns and claws and other animalistic features that made your heart sink down to your stomach with every second you remained paralyzed there.
A shuffling sound in front of you made you finally snap out of your terrified daze, and you saw that the smallest beast—the most human-looking one—had inched away from you on the floor. It was feminine in initial appearance, but a glance down at its furred cloven hooves for legs proved a harsh reminder of the truth.
And yet, even with its apparent beastly form that was surely taller than you, it seemed to cower at your presence. It slowly backed away from you on the ground, chained wrists making just the slightest amount of noise in the dead silence. It was shivering, though whether from the cold or fear, you couldn’t tell.
Pink eyes stayed fixed on yours, awaiting movement from you. But you didn't move, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe or even think. This was all just too much to process. You were only able to take a single silent step back.
And then you suddenly rushed out of that back room behind the circus stage, unable to get the feeling of those eyes watching you out of your head. You just stayed there in the darkened performance area, unable to comprehend what you saw.
Monsters. Monsters were real. Your father knew the whole time. And he kept several of them chained and in cages as forms of show business. How did he manage to even procure such beasts? Why would he keep such creatures? Didn’t he say they were horrible and godless and hell spawned?
You clutched a hand on the fabric of your shirt over your heart, trying to calm it in any way you could. Your father told you that monsters were wicked and twisted beasts. Just from looking at their unnatural eyes, you saw hunger. Hunger and simmering anger waiting to boil over.
But you could have sworn you also saw fear in those eyes…
Their hushed words from before you went into that darkness were scared and full of sorrow. It couldn’t have been a trick, they didn’t know you were listening…did they?
None of this made sense. You had to get another look, had to make sure you that you weren’t seeing things or being deceived by some twisted trick.
All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing.
You slowly turned back to that curtain, and held your breath as you pushed it apart once more. Those bright eyes all bore into your own again, and you felt chills crawl across your nape. You tried not to look at any of them for too long, but it was the beast with pink eyes that drew your attention the most.
The beast, it…she seemed the most visibly afraid of them all. Unlike the others, she wasn’t behind iron bars. If someone else were to come in here, she would be the most vulnerable. The easiest to hurt.
You looked down at her shivering form, seeing how she tightly squeezed her legs together and curled into herself as if to cover and protect as much of her body as possible. Subtle, almost silent whimpers came from her throat. She looked and sounded afraid in a way you were sure couldn’t be faked. She looked terrified of being approached, of being touched, of being…
Your heart sank to your stomach.
Without a word, you knelt down to the cold floor, a series of chills traveling up from where your knee touched it. A low rumbling growl was heard from your left, and you turned slightly to see that the large golden-eyed beast was glaring at you, almost daring you to approach the monstress in front of you any closer.
Even though the creature was behind thick metal bars, you still felt like one wrong move would get you killed. Any stupidity here would swiftly be rewarded with a sobering set of deep gashes from long and brittle claws, or perhaps a brutal bite from sharp fangs. The possibilities were seemingly endless with these creatures, but you didn’t want to find out if that observation was accurate.
You slowed your movements, carefully and silently peeling the blanket around your shoulders off and placing it on the ground in front of the pink-eyed beast. You lightly pushed it towards her. She continued to look at you with fear in her eyes, so you didn’t move any further. Just raised your hands up in a universal harmless gesture that you hoped she understood.
You stood up slowly and carefully then, palms still facing the beasts to show that you meant no harm. Step by step, you walked backwards out of that pitch black room until you pulled those curtains shut. It was understood—or at least you hoped it was—that this would not be spoken of to anyone.
And just like that, those twelve eyes were piercing into you no more. You were alone in that dark performing tent, head buzzing with adrenaline and now shivering from the night’s chill without your blanket around your shoulders.
You couldn’t begin to imagine how cold it must have been on that dirty floor for that girl…beast…lady? You weren’t entirely sure.
A shiver went down your spine as you snuck back out of the large tent through a smaller hidden exit you barely managed to notice due to the moonlight shining through it. You rushed back to your private sleeping area, trying to forget what you saw in that darkness. Monsters. Creatures most foul and unseen by god.
Their eyes reflected nothing but hunger.
But you also couldn’t forget that look in those eyes. That look of primal fear. That look of frightened dread. Especially in that pink-eyed beast…There was no way that look in their eyes was mimicked or a simple trick. That fear was real. But so was that hunger.
An ache in your head and your heart made itself known that night. It made you toss and turn in your bed, unable to get rid of that feeling of being watched. Was it a twisted trick by those creatures? Was it your own mind and heart being affected by what you saw? You didn’t know.
All you knew was that you couldn’t tell anyone else about your late night venture into that secluded room. Not the other circus workers. Not any visitor. Especially not your father. You didn’t even want to think about what your father would do if he found out you saw the secret behind the curtains.
It was all just too much. It was too unreal. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if your mind was too clouded with the thoughts of those beasts. An idea came to your mind then, and you sat up in your bed again while fumbling around to find one of the journals your father gifted you a while back.
You found a pen as well, and with only the light of the full moon shining into your room, you began to write. You wrote down everything you saw, everything you felt. You even doodled what little you could see in that darkness in the margins of the pages.
You drew those creaking iron bars. Piercing sharp eyes that shone even without a light source. Claws and curved horns and pronounced bones beneath thinned flesh and skin clinging to them, evidence of starvation. Or were they naturally so grotesque looking? You didn’t know.
Your writings and drawings were messy and rushed, and you hadn’t realized just how hurriedly those thoughts spilled out of you. You took one last look at the scrawled words and pictures before shutting the journal and shoving it and your pen beneath your pillow.
Now that you had written out what you had done and how you had reacted to it, you were left with your lingering and conflicting thoughts about those creatures. Were they really as devilish and dangerous as your father and all his stories told you? Were they worse?
They didn’t look cruel or particularly violent, just…hungry. Afraid. Angry. Exhausted. You heard them speaking beforehand, surely they were intelligent. Did they only pretend to feel? Was this all part of some elaborate trap to tug at your heartstrings and lure you in to swallow you whole?
Your mind went back to that one pink-eyed beast. It…she didn’t seem as scary as the others. She surely wasn’t human, but perhaps there was a reason she was the only one who wasn’t behind thick iron bars. Maybe…
Maybe you should go back again and visit? Not tonight, that was far too risky. But maybe you could get some more answers some other night. But what were your questions?
You didn’t know. All you knew was that you couldn’t just move on from that. From them. Those unnatural creatures…Shadowed and sharp and no doubt dangerous in some form, but they still made your heart ache. They certainly felt protection for their own, didn’t they? That golden-eyed one reacted to you getting just a little closer to the pink-eyed one in a protective manner. Perhaps…they felt care?
So many thoughts swimming in your mind. It was a miracle you were able to sleep that night at all.
You dreamed of sharp teeth and piercing eyes. Beastly claws and broken voices and the stench of rusted iron.
————
Two nights had passed since that first encounter, both of them restless and filled with an inner turmoil you had to hide from all those you knew. It was hard to keep things from your father. Not only because you had never lied to him about something like this before, but because he was extraordinarily perceptive. But luckily, he was rather busy these days.
Busy doing what? And what was he doing with those caged beasts? What was he doing to them? Sinners or not, what right did your father have to keep them? How did they end up this way? How many of the other circus workers knew? None of this felt right.
That was why you quietly returned to the hidden room inside the large tent long after the sun had set and the other circus members had gone to retire. The moon’s light had waned, and it was harder to navigate your way into the tent, but you managed to sneak inside without being caught.
So there you stood outside the darkened room again, no less dreading how eerily quiet it was. But you shoved that hesitation down. You couldn’t show fear. Just in case these creatures really did prey on it.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil…
Fingers clasping the curtains that closed off the area, you took a deep breath and parted them like you had done two nights prior. It felt as though a wave of cold air had washed over you as you did that.
There they were. All six pairs of eyes looked into your own again. Gold, purple, green…they were all in the same order of cages as the other night. And the downturned pink eyed girl was still chained to the floor in front of you. Your eyes adjusted a little to the dark to see that the blanket you had given her was not present.
No. It was there. But it was shredded and torn to pieces, frayed scraps littering the ground beneath her. You noticed that there were similarly small remnants of your blanket lining the floors of the other beast’s cages. Your mouth opened slightly upon realizing what they had done.
They had split the cover among themselves and used the pieces to give themselves just echoes of warmth and softness in their cold metal prison.
It was dead silent for what felt like ages. You stared at each of them, just as they all stared at you. A heavy and instinctual fear began to gnaw inside your gut, and you contemplated just leaving. But you swallowed thickly, forcing your mouth to move.
“…You can understand me, can’t you?”
They said and did nothing. Just stayed hunched and cowering in their cages, appearing smaller than they were. But you knew better than to believe they were docile. You decided to try a different approach.
“Please. I want to know what…who you are. I want to know how you ended up like this.”
Still nothing. You looked down to the smallest beast lying on the ground in front of you. She wasn’t cowering as much from your presence, furred legs not squeezing together and trembling nearly as badly. A good sign? You felt your heart ache just a little at her frightened pink gaze, and you knelt down similarly to how you did the other night. You spoke softer this time, just above a whisper.
“I won’t hurt you. I want to understand.”
“Understand this: Go back.”
You nearly gasped at the raspy words spoken from one of the cages, and your head snapped to the direction it came from. It was from one of the cages in front of you, the one that housed the violet-eyed creature. Its eyes were far sharper now, evidently very disturbed at your presence. You were slightly too caught off-guard by the sudden words spoken from the beast that you failed to fully comprehend what it…he had told you.
“So you can speak. I knew you could.”
Your ever-so-slight enthusiasm at getting an actual verbal response was quickly followed by a low chittering hiss from one of the other cages, and you flinched at the unnatural yet vaguely serpentine sound. The green-eyed beast moved closer to its bars, almost as if waiting for a moment to strike if you dared to approach.
“Yes. We can speak. How unfortunate that you cannot listen.”
You frowned. You weren’t sure if they could even see your expressions. But something told you that they could see better in the dark than you ever could in any light. You took another deep breath.
“I’m not here to hurt or study any of you. I just want to know…” You trailed off for a moment. “What are your names? How did you end up here?”
Another low animalistic sound, but it came from the violet-eyed creature’s cage again. He sounded vaguely angered, shining eyes slanted in a way that made it apparent he was even more disturbed with your insolence.
“We already know who we are. Leave us be, wretched thing. And do not return.”
Before you could say anything to try to reason or protest, a deep and distorted trill came from one of the cages to your right. It sounded like a warning, a thinly-veiled threat. It was short, but it rattled in your chest for a long time.
“We can smell your fear. You would be wise to follow it. Do not indulge your curiosity.”
Your brow furrowed at that. But then a sudden and slightly spiteful surge of something dangerously close to confidence fueled you to respond.
“Well…maybe I wouldn’t have any fear if I knew who you are, if I knew your stories. I don’t know what you’ve gone through in this circus, but…”
You knew that your fear wasn’t entirely gone, and you didn’t pretend otherwise. But if you could just-
“Temper that naive thinking. Or we will do it for you.”
You angled your head downward at the blue and white-eyed beast closest to your right knowing what you would think, shame making your heart sink to your stomach. That’s right. These creatures owed you nothing. You were the one who could walk free, and they had no choice in whether or not they were disturbed.
“Forgive me. I just…People speak of demons and monsters and other creatures of the night, but I don’t want to live in that fear of the unknown. I want to learn. From you.”
Surely these beasts couldn’t have committed crimes awful enough to warrant this kind of imprisonment. But even if they did, you wanted to know why your father took it upon himself to cage them. What gave him the right when these beasts seemed to be able to reason?
A low breath came from the first cage from earlier, the one containing the purple-eyed beast. You saw the way his head slightly moved in a way that made his four long horns ever-so-slightly glint with nonexistent light.
“Look upon us. We can’t exactly stop you, can we? So go on. Live out this childish fantasy of yours. Your death waits in these cages. And we have no choice but to hear you.”
Your heart sank even further. Guilt and shame drove you to shift yourself backwards and away from the cages and slightly bow your head down in apology. You involuntarily remembered the way your father would always talk to you as if you were still a child unknowing of the world. Perhaps he was right, even as you defied him.
But now was your chance to prove both him and yourself wrong. Your voice turned low and remorseful as you continued to speak with your head held low.
“No, I’m sorry. You do have a choice here. Tell me to leave and I will. I won’t come back. But…I just want to know the truth. Your truth.”
It was quiet. The only sounds heard within the darkness were the occasional shifts of the metal chains the pink-eyed beast was shackled to on the floor. She had said and did nothing this entire time. Whether she was unwilling or unable to speak, you didn’t know. Pity clung to your heart at the thought of the latter possibility.
The other colored eyes in the darkness shifted slightly, almost as if each of the beasts were trying to gauge your reaction to the stillness just as much as you were trying to gauge theirs. Were they trying to see if you were lying just as much as you were trying to see if they were?
The golden-eyed beast to the left of you then spoke for the first time, and a chill went down your spine at its hoarseness and depth.
“Prove it.”
You couldn’t help but be somewhat confused at that. Prove that you were sorry? Prove that these beasts had a choice? Prove your resolve to learn? You weren’t sure which one he meant exactly.
But then you noticed how the beast clutched a scrap of torn fabric from your blanket beneath its…his claws. Prove that you were serious about what you meant. Prove that you weren’t a liar. Prove yourself by helping them, aiding them. A single blanket given to them meant nothing in this prison when the cold seeped into their very bones. Words meant nothing when actions could be taken. You nodded then, understanding what you had to do.
“I’ll do what I can.”
A frail and painfully naive sense of resolve formed in your heart right then. A resolve to learn about these creatures, these beings. It was your duty to help those less fortunate than yourself, after all. And though the violet-eyed beast made an unsubtle threat to your life earlier, you didn’t want to fully believe that these individuals were as ravenous and violent as they may seem.
And so we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
You slowly stood up, knees beginning to ache from the cold and hard floor. The caged creatures all narrowed their bright-colored eyes at you. Step by careful quiet step, you backed out of that darkened area, fingers eventually brushing against the curtain that separated it from the main large tent.
“You have my word.”
————
At your very next late night visit to the cages, you had stuffed a satchel full with foods you hoped would be able to nourish the beasts. Remembering their claws and sharp teeth gave you something of an idea of what they could eat, but you packed a wide variety just in case. You packed enough for six of each item, enough for each caged beast to get a portion.
When you went back into that darkness, you said nothing, just offered them the items you had gathered with a promise to bring more. It wasn’t much for large creatures like them, you’d be the first to admit, but you’d try to bring more next time. One of the beasts let out a sound similar to a scoff upon hearing that.
“Next time? A bold thing, you are. Or gone mad. You must be, or you wouldn’t have returned.”
You didn’t say anything back, unable to argue with the fact that any sane person would probably run away screaming from this place if they were to steal even a glance at these creatures. You didn’t—couldn’t—deny that they still gave you chills with their paper-thin voices and unfamiliar sharp features.
But you didn’t want to let that fear become a law in which your life was governed by. You were already so isolated from the world by your father’s doing, and in a way—though you’d never dare voice it—you felt somewhat like a caged beast yourself. But at least your cage was gilded, and its bars were not nearly as cold as these ones. Guilt started to gnaw at your stomach.
You realized that you had yet to leave the beasts to their feeding, and you quickly rose to stand from the cold floor, not realizing that you had kneeled down to present the food to them. You asked if there was anything they needed in particular to regain their strength, anything that they strictly couldn’t eat.
It was quiet. You noticed the way their eyes darted to one another through their iron bars. It seemed like they were debating on whether or not to tell you something. Worry and concern flooded your veins. Had you offended them somehow?
Still nothing. It was the pink-eyed beast who had broken the silence, much to your surprise. It was the first time she had ever spoken. No, you did not offend them, she said. But it would take a long time for them to regain any strength. There was, after all, a rather especially nutritious source of food that was not available, one that you wouldn’t be able to procure.
She told you not to worry of it. That crucial means of nourishment wouldn’t be available in a place like this, let alone for one such as you. What she meant by that, you had no idea. But her pink gaze turned to the other colored ones in the cages, almost as if silently telling them something.
You decided not to meddle with their business. Not any more than you already had. You left after that, though not without several questions that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask anyone but yourself as you wrote in your journal like you did after the last two visits.
The next late night excursion into the darkness within the tent was two nights after the last, this time with more food and a small unlit lantern with matchsticks to light it. Your lantern did not go unnoticed, and the beasts questioned, as you realized they tended to do.
“Do you intend to behold us? Are you certain your fragile mind and heart would be able to handle it? Even the most decorated of soldiers have run screaming upon seeing us.”
You hesitated then. Was the green-eyed beast exaggerating? Surely they couldn’t be so frightening as to cause even soldiers to run away in fear. Curiosity was truly such an alluring and terrible thing. It fueled you to open the lantern and prepare to light one of your matchsticks. But before you could scrape one against the hard ground, a low groaning rumble came from one of the other beasts in the cages.
“Do not be so cruel as to grant us a sliver of warmth and then leave with it. Do not bring us light only to snuff it out.”
You were confused for a moment before you realized what the dual-colored eyed beast meant. It was kinder to leave them in cold darkness than to bring only flickers of light, of dangerous hope.
A subtle stinging pang of guilt made itself known in your chest. Not pity—these creatures would probably find insolence in that. Instead, it was a surprisingly familiar feeling of knowing heartache.
You knew what it was like to give up on any chances of freedom. Your father would keep you inside your childhood home, like a bird whose flight feathers had been clipped. Had you always been so agreeable towards your father? Was your curious and adventurous nature outgrown, or simply suppressed in order to please and appease him?
You remembered the moments of when your father would go on those long business trips, leaving you to fend for yourself while you were still a child. You were left all alone to educate yourself, to feed and clothe and clean yourself. You remember looking out your bedroom window and out towards the other children your age in the streets.
It would have been easy to go out and make a secret friend, to even have a secret lover. But you never once left your home. Your father placed his trust in you to be diligent and do what is right for yourself. But looking back, that trust felt more like a burden than a gift. A set of shackles binding you to your home. But even despite those thoughts and feelings, you never did disobey your father.
There was a sense of security, you realized, in staying in an unpleasant routine. It was predictable. Taking a risk and finding brief sparks of hope was terrifying for many reasons. The main reason being that there was a chance those sparks of hope would never become embers or flames, would never become anything more than fleeting reminders of what you could never hope to have. So why bother? Why bother when it would bring only pain?
You felt like you understood the beasts just a little more after that, though you didn’t voice it. Just nodded your head solemnly and put your matchsticks away, putting your lantern to the side. A silent display of understanding, though you weren’t sure if they realized just how much you understood.
Though perhaps you truly didn’t understand a thing about these creatures. They weren’t human, after all. Who’s to say they experienced emotions and feelings the same way you did? And you were always called dreadfully naive by those around you, including your own father.
Despite the thoughts of your own lack of knowledge of how the world and other people really work, you couldn’t help but think that the way the monsters released just the slightest bit of tension in their bodies reminded you of relief. Gratitude, perhaps, that they would not be seen by you. Or that they wouldn’t be given warmth only for it to be taken away.
Maybe this darkness, however cold and suffocating and miserable as it is, is a sort of sanctuary against the light of day for them. You still had no idea what they did during the performances. But you had a sneaking suspicion that the overhead lights of the stage were nothing short of suffocating.
You shouldn’t intrude on whatever chance at solace these beasts have. Not any more than you already have. You left without a word after that, unlit lantern and matchsticks clutched tightly in your hands.
It was probably a good thing that you didn’t light any of the matchsticks, you thought. Someone probably would have seen the light from within the tent, and you would have been caught sneaking into a place you weren’t supposed to know about.
…And you might have seen things you would never be able to forget.
————
The next visits, the fifth and sixth, played out very similarly to the previous ones. You brought food for the caged beasts, watching the thin flesh clinging to their bones fail to fill their skin. But they didn’t wither further away, either. It seemed the pink-eyed beast was right in her words about needing a great amount of time and effort to meaningfully gain any semblance of healthiness.
Internally, to nobody but yourself and your scrawled recounting of your visits in your journal, you had given the beasts names…Of sorts. They were really just titles so your words wouldn’t take up so much room in your diary’s pages.
The one with violet eyes was called the Leader in your diary. He spoke the most, yet he seldom spoke of just himself and his own opinions. He always seemed to speak for the others as well when they had no words to give. An admirable quality, you wrote. But he was also the harshest in his words, something you found yourself not exactly surprised or offended by. You would be far more unsettled if he were welcoming and kind.
The next was the sharp green-eyed one, and you dubbed him the Knave. He had a mischievous look in his verdant eyes, and he seemed the most determined to live up to the descriptions of monsters and night creatures that other people spoke of. He was unpredictable. Barbed in his words and even more pointed in form, though you never saw his full body. Every now and then there seemed to be an extra rope-like limb slithering from his spine...
And then there was the Sentinel. The golden-eyed creature was deeply protective of his fellow beasts, especially the pink-eyed girl perpetually chained to the floor in front of their cages. Though you never once made a move to approach any of the creatures beyond bringing food and leaving it for them to distribute among themselves, you were sure that if you were to try, he would swiftly and violently correct you in either word or claw—whichever was easier.
The girl chained to the floor, the one with downturned pink eyes and cloven hooves in place of feet was who you referred to in your mind as the Lamb. She was smaller and noticeably less imposing than her caged companions. She didn’t speak much, but when she did, it was with a sad and worn voice that reminded you of a young sheep’s soft bleat. The only reason she was chained and not caged was because despite her beastly nature, she was still weaker than the rest of her kin.
The one with mismatched colored eyes and an asymmetrical horn on his head was the one you internally called the Oblique. You could have sworn that he never looked quite the same as whenever you last lay your eyes upon his obscured form. Yet despite that, he remained stalwart in his convictions—which included his distaste for you intruding upon him and his fellow prisoners every couple of nights.
And last was the tallest of them, the one you penned as the Erudite. Though he also rarely spoke, it was always with words and phrases that you had gleaned from your studies. He was observant, never taking his cyan eyes off you whenever you parted the curtains to the darkness in which he and his kind were caged in. He made observations about you that you never would have been willing or able to make yourself.
But just as the beasts never gave you any names to address them, you never gave them your name either. You doubted they would bother to use it if you did. They always called you “human,” or “creature,” or “beast,” or some other term like that. It always reminded you how you were likely just as much of a strange thing to them as they were strange things to you.
Every interaction between you and them was brief and rested upon a gossamer-thin sheet of tension that threatened to tear with every minute thought, word, and deed. Yet still, you didn't look away from their sharp eyes, didn't bristle at their sharper words calling you a foolish naive thing or prey with no regard for your own survival. But they never outright rejected your gestures. Likely because they had no choice.
It was clear as day that they loathed their circumstances. Not just being imprisoned in bitter cold cages and surrounded by darkness and filth, but also having to form a shaky dependency with a human. Sometimes one of them would tell you not to bother trying to help them. Unless you came bringing their key to freedom, they wanted nothing from you or your presence. It was simply in your nature that you would quickly lose interest in bringing them transitory and fleeting balms for their pains. So why keep up the charade?
Your first instinct was to deny their words, affirm that your efforts weren't a charade of consideration or a way for you to feel better about yourself, but you held your tongue. You were here to prove your intentions with your actions, not your words. So you stayed silent most of the time, occasionally offering a couple sentences here and there.
The one word that was never even whispered from your or their mouths was “friend.” You were not so naive as to think of them as such. And you knew better than to dare to think for even a moment that they thought of you as anything but a method of survival.
But you didn’t seek to help them just so you could have a form of company in your lonely life. You didn’t help them in the hopes of becoming some sort of savior or benefactor. You helped them because it was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it? Your father always talked about diligence and duty, about not trusting appearances and helping those less fortunate than yourself.
So, you decided that you wouldn’t trust the appearances of these so-called monsters. And they were in quite a sorry state. If anyone had bothered to learn from them, to try to see who they were instead of what they are, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for living lives like yours—sheltered lives full of fear and uncertainty.
Well, this was the one thing you would be certain of, if nothing else. These creatures were not what they seemed.
————
It had been almost a month after initially meeting the beasts, and on this certain visit, you had brought a small paring knife with you. You decided to do so after catching just a brief glimpse of the beasts struggling to eat what was given to them. Their teeth must be brittle and weak, likely sore from a lack of nutrition and opportunities for hygiene. Perhaps you could cut up their food just to make it a little easier to chew and swallow.
When you explained your reasoning upon being questioned, the Knave had hoarsely scoffed as you began cutting a fruit into pieces, thin rope-like tendrils emerging from behind his shoulders in a display of what you recognized as indignation.
“What next, then? You’ll hand-feed us? Pick between our teeth? Brush our hair and wash our claws?”
You narrowed your eyes at his emerald gaze, slightly frowning at his words, but didn’t stop cutting while looking away. It didn’t take a genius to pick up on what he was implying. He thought you were being foolish in your attempts to aid them.
“No. I’m just offering to help. You asked me to prove my resolve, did you not?”
“Then perhaps you should show your resolve in more helpful ways than cutting up our food like we are children.”
You were going to respond to his insinuation that you weren’t helping, but stopped yourself. He was quite right, actually. You were bringing the beasts food, but there was only so much it did for them. They were rather large creatures, after all, and there was only so much you could carry. Their bones remained visible, their teeth weak, their claws flaked. A sigh escaped your lungs as you began to mutter to yourself, though you knew they could hear you perfectly at this point.
“…I know. I’m sorry. I’m still trying to think of a way to-“
A sudden pain made itself known in one of your fingers, a sharp and stinging sensation that made you immediately hiss and halt your actions. The small knife and the fruit fell from your hands, and you held in a curse as you realized what had happened. You weren’t paying proper attention to the slicing of the fruit’s flesh, and the blade had nicked your own soft flesh just on the tip of your finger.
Small beads of blood had begun to emerge from the tiny gash after a couple seconds, and a couple of droplets had fallen to the cold floor. The only reason you noticed was because it was eerily silent enough for you to hear the tiny patters of the dripping.
From your peripherals, you could see that every pair of eyes was on the cut on your finger. The smell of copper only got more pronounced as you squeezed your palm over the wound, unable to keep yourself fully quiet due to the stinging pain.
It took everything in you not to swear or use the Lord's name in vain. But damn did this hurt.
You weren’t sure why, but this wound was more painful than expected. Perhaps it was because of the chill in the air. You knew that it was rather childish to react so outwardly to a small cut on your hand—a hand that knew almost nothing of being skeletal or scarred or weakened. Your gaze looked back towards the beasts in their cages, and you froze.
Each one of them was staring intensely at your hand, fixated by…what? The blood? The smell? The sounds you made? They were still as statues. It wasn’t out of any sort of real concern for your wellbeing, you knew that your injury was just a minor cut. No, it felt like…
“I…think it best you leave, human.”
That brought you out of your daze. You looked to the Lamb kneeling on the floor in front of you, already holding the small knife out for you to take. Her eyes looked strange, unlike you had ever seen them before. Her pale pupils subtly flickered between being slitted and round, between predator and prey. A tightness coiled in your stomach.
“What? I…I’m sorry, did I do anything-“
“You must tend to yourself. The air here is choked with rust and filth. Your flesh…it will fester quickly.”
Something changed in her voice when she mentioned your flesh…
Did your injury trigger something in them? But what? And how? Did the sight or smell of blood disturb them? Your mind was flooded with all sorts of thoughts when you snuck your way out of that tent and through the night, careful not to make any noise despite the pain you were in.
You stayed up especially late that night, not fully knowing what had happened once your blood dripped onto the floor in that dark place. A sinking dread pooled in your stomach at the thought of…no, that wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. Could it?
————
There were several more late-night visits like that, each one beginning with you unpacking your bag and leaving food for the creatures to split among themselves. They never gave you any complaints or suggestions about what to bring—which would be slightly strange if they did, considering they weren’t exactly in a position to do so—so you always brought basic inoffensive things.
You never approached their cages to hand out the food, not even once. It was an unspoken understanding that they would swiftly correct any display of overfamiliarity on your end. And those corrections would not be kind. Not that you expected them to be, nor that you ever tested that silent agreement.
There was only one time when you dared to inch your way closer to one of the cages. It was to inspect the integrity of the bars, and to see if there were any locks that you could do anything about. You found a large lock on the side of one cage and inspected it in your palm, to which the (usually silent) Sentinel had sighed a mournful sound.
“These locks cannot open without the key. They cannot be picked even with claws as sharp as ours. And we are too weak to bend our bars.”
You realized that this was a mere glimpse at just how long these creatures must have been like this for them to know the ins and outs of their prison—and just how inescapable it was. It left a pit in your stomach to think about. How many prisons have they known?
But you didn’t get much more of an opportunity to speak when each of the beasts noticeably perked up in their cages, not in any sort of positive way but in a way that meant they heard something. Something important. Something that made them freeze.
You had little time to question what was happening before you felt large unnaturally thin hands wrap around your shoulders and shove you somewhere, and you realized that the golden-eyed Sentinel had grabbed you and pushed you so that you were behind his cage. Cold and bony fingers were placed over your mouth to suppress any sound of confusion or discomfort you would make, and you initially panicked.
It was impossible to suppress the yelp that came from your throat out of instinct. But that was why the golden-eyed creature had covered your mouth with his large skeletal hand, brittle—and now retracted—claws just ghosting over the edges of your face. Your breathing quickened, eyes widening in anticipation of being torn apart.
But there was no tearing of your flesh, no claws digging into your skin. Instead, you saw the Lamb in front of the Sentinel’s cage place a skeletal finger over her mouth, and then you finally heard it. Footsteps. Heavy and quickly-approaching ones. The beasts must have heard them long before you did.
You looked back to the golden eyes staring into yours, and you nodded. You understood. The Sentinel had grabbed and hidden you behind his cage to prevent you from possibly being seen by this approaching threat. The dark and clawed fingers left your face, and you watched as the beast turned around to face the opening of the room where the footsteps were coming from.
A man’s silhouette appeared. He was tall, and before now, you would have thought a figure like his fairly non-threatening. But why would a man be here, especially this late into the night? He could only have ill intentions.
Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the way he almost stumbled into the darkened room, body swaying slightly as he scanned over each of the cages until his gaze remained on the pink-eyed Lamb chained to the floor. Your stomach sank, and you could tell hers did as well.
“It’s you. The Damsel. You’re quite a pretty one, aren’t you? Not like the rest of these ugly things.”
He spoke to her in a mock-attentive voice as if she were a dog or other creature incapable of fully understanding what he was saying. Even from your spot behind the cage, you could still see him crouch down in front of her, and the way she curled away from him. You could recognize the stench of alcohol from his clothes. It made your stomach churn uncomfortably. You heard the Sentinel in front of you growl a low sound.
“I paid quite a bit to get an extra little glimpse at you after everyone else left. I saw the way you moved in the show. You know what I thought?”
He leaned towards the Lamb, and she flinched away, whimpering and trembling. Her chains were pulled taut, and she was unable to move any further to escape from his filthy words and hands. A couple of the other caged beasts began to growl low sounds, already able to smell his disgusting licentious intentions. Bile began to bubble at the back of your throat.
“A pretty thing like you…shouldn’t be left so alone at night.”
His filthy fingers went to stroke at the fur on her legs, and the creatures growled even louder, especially the one in front of you. You watched as his digits combed across her trembling leg and started to push the hem of her long dress up…
Your heart started to beat harder than before, hands moving on their own to feel for something to touch, to grab. Some unknown hard and heavy thing was soon gripped in your palm, and your legs moved on their own.
Shifting to silently move away from behind the cage and a few feet behind the man, you gripped the hard and heavy object in your hands. With only a moment of hesitation and a mind screaming to just do something already, you swiftly and harshly brought the object down to the back of the intruder's head, thoroughly rendering him unconscious. Or so you hoped.
It was dead silent for what felt like eons. You stood there, breathing quickened and legs trembling. The adrenaline in your veins had quickly gone, and it was like a veil was lifted from over your face.
It was then that you fully realized what you had done. You had caused deliberate harm to another, possibly even killed a man. Your stomach lurched, twisting itself into knots.
"Oh...Oh God."
It was all you could shakily mumble out, using the Lord's name in vain not even a brief thought in your mind. You glanced down at what you were holding in your hands. It was a brick, one that must have been used to keep the tent's interior in place. There was a dark wet stain upon it now, and you gasped upon noticing it. The only reason you didn't drop it was because it would have made a loud noise.
"Is he...?" Your voice wavered and trembled as you asked the single question you weren't sure you wanted an answer to.
"No. The intruder still breathes."
The Oblique and the Erudite were staring at the fallen man, mismatched and cyan eyes narrowed in what must have been disgust. You breathed a sigh of relief. Though you still caused the filthy man harm, you were at least glad you hadn't made yourself a stained murderer.
But now there was the question of what you would do. You couldn't just leave the intruder here. He may wake up and wrongly accuse the beasts of harming him and exact vengeance. He may harm them. He may get even closer to the Lamb than before...
The black-haired beast in question was staring up at you, downturned pink eyes widened in what must have been shock. She was still trembling, still frightened, but not nearly as much as before now. The building tension in your shoulders had released just the slightest bit. You slowly moved to place the brick in your hands back where you found it, angling it so that the new stain on it wasn't visible.
But the problem of the man was still present. What would you do? What could you possibly hope to do now that you had done what you did? It wasn't like you could just stay still and let him touch the Lamb. She had no way of stopping him, no way of moving away or fighting or pleading without possibly being hurt or worse...
"Go now, creature. Leave him. We will...handle this."
You didn't realize you had begun to pace until you stopped dead in your tracks. What did the Leader mean, "handle this?" They were caged, unable to even reach his unconscious form if they tried. But then you saw that look in their eyes. It was a look of focus, of intent, but of what?
"But what are you going to...?"
"We will ensure you do not take the fall. Go now, and do not return tonight."
The Sentinel’s words weren’t reassuring. You didn't want these creatures to risk themselves. But what choice did you have? What else could you do? Stay here and proclaim yourself a new bestial resident of the seventh circle of Hell?
So you hesitantly left the darkness like you had before, stomach churning and eyes stinging with tears that you didn't dare let fall. You knew that if you let even one escape, you would never cease your subsequent sobs and cries.
What had you become? What would God think, seeing and knowing of you hurting another human to save a monster, a supposed unholy and most foul creature? What would the beasts do to the drunk man? Would someone walk in, see the intruder and assume it was the fault of the monsters?
You didn’t know what to think. Your worldview was white where it was once black, black where it was once white. Your father told you that the world and its creatures were separated between pure and impure beings. It was easy to stain a pure white fabric, but impossible to reverse the process. It was the same for sins, he told you.
You could cover the stain as much as you wished, but you would know that it would always be there. When the Heavenly Father unfurled your life and its sins, those stains would be there for Him to see and judge. The only option left for a ruined white fabric was to discard the whole thing, regardless of how beautiful and pale and spotless the rest of it was. That was how life and vices worked. That was what you had been taught.
But now, you had no idea what to think, what to feel. It wasn’t the fault of the beasts, this you knew. They didn’t ask you to help. But you couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. The Lamb would have…
But you also could have possibly done something, anything else but hurt another being. Why was it your first instinct to harm? Were you born an inherently violent sinner? Was your soul damned before you took your first steps? Did God create you only to cast you away despite your loyalty and diligence before this?
There was no church nearby to go to confession. How many prayers would redeem your soul? How would you have to repent? How could you hope to repent if you didn't truly regret what you did? No matter how much you panicked and feared for your soul, you couldn't change your lack of regret. You could already imagine the boiling rivers of blood and fire that awaited your arrival, the place within the Phlegethon reserved for only violent souls.
Because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.
Your journal entry was blank that night. The fingers on your hands didn’t feel like your own. The hands attached to your body didn’t feel like your own. The body your mind was caged in didn’t feel like your own.
————
You visited the cages again the very next night. It was no surprise that you weren’t able to sleep, and you had spent the whole day afterwards in a daze. You needed to know what happened to that man. You needed to know what happened to the beasts.
You had half a mind to never return again, to forget about the creatures and spend the rest of your life repenting and atoning for your soul’s corruption. But the other half of your mind, that wicked and desperate need for knowledge, it somehow outweighed your fear and dread.
It took everything in you not to rush behind those now familiar curtains, but you stayed as calm as you knew how to be in circumstances like these. But of course, you had never nearly become a murderer before.
Your hand pushed the curtain aside like so many times before…
And there was nothing. No sign of the man. No sign of…anything. It was as if he had never intruded at all. The Lamb sat on the floor as she always did, knees tucked close and chains rattling with her every little move. Dare you even think it, she looked almost relieved at you being present and not some foolish drunk.
But despite that, the silence was tense, almost unbearably so. You hadn’t brought any food like you usually would in your bi-weekly routine, and it was clear that the beasts hadn’t expected you to return only a single night after the last visit. But you paid all of that no mind.
“What happened to him? The intruder?”
Even more silence. The air stayed thick—even despite the biting chill—as you just stood there in front of the cages and the chains. That was, until the Knave spoke up with a rattling chitter that sounded like a forced serpentine laugh.
“Oh, him? He awoke, confused and sick from his drunken stupor, only to see our faces. We scared him off and away, and back to whatever hole he crawled out of, never to return. He’ll think twice before drinking his weight again, no doubt.”
You couldn’t see the Knave’s face, but you could tell there was a sort of smile in his rasped voice. There was a noticeable amount of energy in his words that wasn’t present before. His recounting sounded like a sort of childish fairytale lesson, too unbelievable, too…false. Was he telling the truth? Was this just a story he crafted to avoid explaining what really happened?
And even if that was the truth…it didn’t make you feel any better about causing another person harm, even if you thought he deserved it for his disgusting actions the night prior. You had no authority to hurt him in such a way, had no right to make him bleed like you did.
But did you regret it?
Your intestines twisted into knots, and you wrapped your arms around your abdomen in an attempt to feel secure, to feel like a better person than you are. But no. You did not regret knocking that man unconscious to keep his filthy hands off of the Lamb. Not in the slightest.
It didn’t feel good to cause that pain, to shed blood that wasn’t your own, but you couldn’t just sit there and do nothing while the beast was being touched in a way that made your own stomach churn. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt.
The Leader must have been able to sense your deep disturbance with what had happened the night prior. His low and scratchy voice broke the silence and made you turn your head towards him.
“You worry about what you’ve done.”
You hesitated to meet his gaze with your own. Though you couldn’t see his face, you heard his mild contemplative tone. A shaky nod was all you could reluctantly respond with. You didn’t regret what you did, but you worried for your soul being forever tainted, forever stained. You saw his head tilt at your apparent moral dilemma.
“If it is any consolation…If your God is half as good as your kind claims, then He would likely understand.” He scoffed a rough and ironic sound. “But then again, what would we know of God?”
That made your mind still. His words made you think, made your breaths even out. What did his kind know of God? You hardly considered the fact that they likely didn’t believe in a Heavenly Father, or at least didn’t believe in one in the same way you had been raised to.
The way he said it made it sound like he wasn’t heretical, but simply unfamiliar. It made your moral questioning feel as though it were distant, almost unreal. For a fleeting moment, it even made your beliefs feel like childish stories. It was a strange feeling, one that you weren’t used to.
It somewhat reminded you of your childhood memories of when you would watch people from your bedroom window and sigh, secretly daydreaming of going out and meeting them, of making friends, enemies, it hardly mattered to a sheltered child such as you were. You just wanted connection.
But then your father would always approach in his knowing way and quietly tell you that the people outside your home were heretics and blasphemers, non-believers who relished in sin and indulgences. They didn’t cherish their relationship with the Lord like you and he did. They would only lead you astray.
But you looked down to those people from your window and didn’t see them relishing in their supposed vices. They looked uncaring, perhaps, but they looked happy. Free. What did your father see that you didn’t?
The memory left a bitter feeling in your heart now. Was it being weighed down by your sin and corruption? You didn’t know. You just didn’t know what to think anymore.
You found yourself sitting on that cold floor in front of the monsters, legs tucked to your chest and knees situated beneath your chin, just…thinking. About your father. About God. About the lines that sometimes blurred between the two. A distant yet ever-watching presence, arms encircling around you but never quite touching. It was love, but it was the kind of love only given and received from a distance.
Was it so bad to want raw connection in any form? Passion. Hate. Desire. Companionship. Tragedy. It didn’t matter. Just something that made you feel like you mattered not in the grand scheme of things, but in the moments when you were actually alive and present. Were the beasts any different in their connections?
Thinking about it now, you wouldn’t be surprised if they despised the idea of God. What good would faith and belief do for them in a place like this? If the entire rest of the world was convinced that these beings weren’t made in His divine image, that they deserved to be struck down, why have any reverence for Him?
“What do you believe in?”
The question left your mouth before you could stop yourself. It was invasive and you knew it. You flinched back and pressed a palm over your lips like your mouth had released hot embers instead of uttered syllables.
It was dead silent once again. You likely crossed some sort of boundary. Shame and embarrassment flooded your face in waves as you uttered out a quick apology and started to move to loosen your position and leave the darkened area, prepared to never to speak of the matter again. But a voice just above a whisper made you stop.
“You really do wish to learn…Don’t you?”
The Lamb’s low voice made you freeze in your actions, and your gaze met her pink one. You nodded only once very slowly. You wanted to know what their lives were like, wanted to know if this life—your life—was really your truth. You wanted to know by learning their truth. Did they know of a God? Did they love and hate and suffer and find meaning without one?
“…Your curiosity will only bring your end.”
You couldn’t argue with the Oblique’s hushed words. He was probably right. But you still sat there in front of the cages, cautiously waiting. For what, you weren’t sure. Would they reject your attempts to listen? Would they send you away? Would they only call you a fool like they had so many times before?
You remained quiet and still. You were in no place to be impatient when you were the one who asked the question, after all. Bright and sharp eyes stared into your own, but you didn’t avert your gaze. The air was heavy, but not with tension, and you knew instinctively that the words they were going to share were going to be spoken once and only once—whatever those words would be.
"...Listen. Listen well."
To your slight surprise, the beasts slowly exchanged whispers of their belief in connections, how they maintained their bonds in times of hardship. Their practices were so very different from what you had known. Your faith, your relationship with your father, every last detail of your own life was sterile, bound by learned rules and practices of formality and pretension.
It was shallow, you realized, though you had never dared to even think it until now. You were raised to believe that love was meant to be formal, proper, clean. Transactional. Conditional. It was all you had ever known, and you had very few examples of it outside of your father’s care while raising you.
There were small and fleeting memories of your mother, but they were more impressions than concrete recollections. The smell of linen and skin. Golden sunlight filtered through pale, nearly diaphanous curtains at dawn. A voice that murmured like a trickling river and tickled the shell of your ear as it sang a song you had long forgotten the words to. You missed that bond, that connection. Missed her.
You knew you had something akin to a deep connection once. You knew that you wanted it again. But your father was not your mother. His love was in sparse words and acts. It wouldn't be proper for him to attempt to be your mother, he once told you after you attempted to hold his hand while walking down a street.
An aching emptiness in your chest had made itself known after that.
But the creatures in the cages hoarsely spoke of openness among their own kind. Deep bonds of scent and marks and displays of purest connection rather than mere implications. Your father would probably consider those things licentious, filthy, unholy. But you were fascinated, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but ask a couple of extra questions.
Did their kind have any practices like humans did in the way of ceremonies and rituals? No, you learned. They did not. Not exactly, anyway. Humans had quite a tendency to over complicate things, you were told. You found yourself internally agreeing.
How do beasts keep promises and maintain bonds without contracts or formal agreements? Easily, they answered. Again, your kind felt an insatiable urge to make simple matters endlessly complex only because humans were incapable of implicit trust. It was instinct for beasts to trust each other. There were far fewer of their numbers than humans, after all.
You got a distinct feeling that speaking of their kind’s low numbers was a poor idea. Naive though you were, you were not stupid. Not entirely, anyway. You wanted to ask more, learn more about other things, but you were stopped by a low avian sound that rattled your insides. It wasn’t aggressive, just corrective, and you turned to see that the Erudite was tilting his head towards you, eyes changing colors from cyan to bright red for just a split-second.
“You have asked us enough, creature. Leave us be and return on some other night.”
It didn’t take a genius to know that you had overstayed your welcome. Not that you were welcomed in the first place. But still, the Erudite’s wording made your eyes slightly widen. It was the first time any of them had spoken of any sort of “other night.” A “next time.”
You couldn’t fully hide your eager anticipation to learn more when you nodded and moved to leave. They actually expected you to return. They were willing to share more. The Knave had scoffed a low sound upon catching your expression, but it didn’t sound like it came from a place of being genuinely insulted.
“Have some shame, will you? If that twinkle in your eye were any brighter, we would have no choice but to snuff it out.”
Your face flushed hot with embarrassment at that, unable to refute his words. Goodness, you were getting far, far too familiar with these beasts. You then heard the Lamb release a short huff that sounded dangerously close to a hoarse attempt at a chuckle upon seeing your face.
“Off you go now, creature. You must rest.”
You just nodded again, swiftly and quietly bidding them farewell.
That night, you feverishly wrote inside your diary across several pages. You wrote of the things you learned, the things you still didn’t fully understand. But it wasn’t the beast’s words you didn’t understand—it was your own life’s lessons, the things you had been taught by your father and your society that you no longer fully understood.
You still felt unmeasurable guilt for what you had done to that drunk man who tried to touch the chained girl. But you remembered the Leader’s words, the idea that maybe God would at least understand why you did it. Would He forgive you? You didn’t know. The answer in your heart seemed to shift and change like the moon. But strangely, the thought didn’t strike as much fear in your heart anymore.
You asked not for any consolation from the caged beings, but they offered it to you anyway. Perhaps they pitied you and your—dare you think even just briefly—fantastical beliefs in a God and damnation for your immortal soul. They believed not against God in blasphemy, they simply believed that the tangible bonds made on earth were of more importance. God had no factor in their lives, something that was strange for you to comprehend.
It was fascinating and terrifying to think about in equal measure. Was that why they were considered monsters? Not just for their forms but for their practices? You were guilty of this as well, thinking them to be foul devils at first. But your mind had changed much since first encountering them.
Those caged creatures were beasts, yes, but you no longer believed the whispers that called them depraved fiends. These beings spoke of strength in care, protection, trust. True demons knew nothing of those things, didn’t they? It would be quite hard to fake the nostalgia and longing in their voices, like each of them had lost so much before ending up in this circus.
You wanted to know how your father ever managed to come across such beings. It wasn’t like he simply found them in a street and asked them to perform for his circus. With the way they were imprisoned…
A distinct pit of dread formed in your stomach when you thought about the possible circumstances of how those creatures came to be caged in a circus. But you couldn’t just ask them, heavens no. You weren’t that stupid and mindless. No matter the circumstances that brought them here, they were suffering, and you were determined to aid them however you could.
And even if they had done anything wrong, it was not anyone’s place to bestow punishment and vengeance upon them. Wasn’t it imperative to help those in need? Care shouldn’t be conditional. Maybe it was your naivety, but, sinners or not, humans or beasts, nobody deserved to rot in cold rusted cages and die a slow painful death.
No. You were going to help them. Even if it was the last thing you’ll do.
————
Visit after visit, you brought more things for the creatures. Their forms remained thinned and starved, but at least they weren’t skeletal, meaning that your efforts actually managed to stave off death, however temporarily. You had a suspicion that you were the only one consistently offering food to them. If you weren’t, would they have wasted away by now?
Every now and then, you’d try some new method to pick the locks on their cages or even try to study the integrity of the bars on their cages—or chain links, in the Lamb’s case—to no avail. Whatever metal their bonds were made of, it was nigh impossible to break, bend, or find any exploitable weakness in. For you, anyway. You were a mere human, weak in many ways compared to these starving beasts.
You always left those attempts feeling more and more frustrated, but the beasts never seemed to react much to your failures. They knew their prisons far better than you did, after all. But you never gave up, something that they believed to be both pointless and useless, and they made sure you knew it. Of all the things they’d tell you, that was the one thing you didn’t listen to.
But now, after every failed attempt, before you would leave their darkness, they would start to speak. You never failed to stop to listen to whatever they had to say. Sometimes, it was merely a couple sentences. Other times, they spoke of a shared memory they all had. They very rarely mentioned their separate families and homes.
Rarely, when you were feeling especially curious—or perhaps stupidly brazen—you’d ask them questions. Rarer still they’d ever answer them directly. You didn’t mind that. Their words always made you think, a dangerous thing to do during the day while you worked at the circus.
But there was one thing that ate away at you more than you thought it would. How old were the creatures? They often spoke as if each of them had lived through generations. Did they have a different sense of time? Were they older than they appeared?
It was this line of thought that prompted you to ask them at the next late-night visit, after the Leader had sparsely spoken of things he and the others had seen “some time ago.”
“You live for much longer than us, don’t you?”
His violet eyes turned to gaze fully into yours, and you maintained the contact. His sharp purple eyes didn’t unsettle you nearly as much anymore, and you watched him turn his head as if noticing how your perception had heightened since first meeting the beasts. He hummed a half-animalistic sound, and you could hear a couple of the others do the same.
“We rarely get to do so…but yes. We do. What of it?”
You slightly shrank at the implication of his kind rarely getting to live full lives, but didn’t cower or avert your gaze. Instead you tilted your own head slightly in a respectful gesture of questioning.
“What is it like? Living for so long?”
“What is it like for you to have such a short life?”
You opened your mouth to respond to the Knave, yet the proper words to explain such a concept remained lost to you. This wasn’t something you thought about often enough to easily talk about. How does one explain such a thing to someone who will outlive them? The green-eyed serpentine beast seemed amused by your inability to articulate the concept.
“Not so easy to sum up with words, is it?”
You hesitantly shook your head. A deep and resonant humming came from one of the cages on your right, from the Oblique.
“It’s simply our way of life. Nothing more, nothing less.”
But what was that way of life like? What did they do with such long lifespans? You refrained from asking such questions, recalling the Leader’s earlier words about their kind rarely getting to live full lives, a fact revealed so casually as if it was normalized in their society. It didn’t sit right with you, but you dropped it nonetheless.
It wasn’t all that surprising that creatures like these seldom got to live to become old, now that you thought about it. If any of the rare words about their homeland were true, then this group was lucky to have made it to where they are today without starving or being killed. You could already imagine hunting parties for these beasts, or perhaps even their own kind turning on them out of hunger-driven insanity.
Your stomach sank a little at just the ideas of what these creatures could have gone through. And even away from their home, they were still starving. Perhaps even worse than when they were in their homeland. And on top of that, they were cold and treated like animals now.
The days passed on. It was hard to perform your assigned duties as usual while pretending you had no idea what went on in the shows. The shows your own father oversaw. You didn’t know what actually occurred in them, but if any of the attendees' hushed whispers were anything to go by before and after the shows, it was sickening to say the least.
Every time you handed out a flyer during the day, it felt as though you were maintaining a lie that only resulted in harm to the creatures. It made you sick to your stomach to think about. When nobody was looking, you’d crumple and pocket some of the papers so you wouldn’t have to hand out as many. You even began learning to fold them into smaller shapes to keep them more discreetly, repurposing them to create something else.
One time, you realized that there was even a crumpled flyer tucked away in your sleeping attire while visiting the caged beasts. It seemed you couldn’t escape from the papers, not even at night. Just the sight of them made a foul and bitter taste form on your tongue. But instead of tearing that small poster to pieces, you idly folded it into a different shape while quietly explaining what you did with other flyers.
Your fingers moved on their own to pinch and tuck and fold the paper into a simple flower-like shape, nothing very impressive. But the Sentinel in particular had looked upon your craftsmanship with great curiosity. He said nothing, but you had learned to read the creatures’ eyes just as they had learned to read your body language.
The sight gave you an idea.
During a later visit, you had brought your diary to present to the caged beasts. They initially eyed the journal suspiciously, but when you told them about how you wrote down everything you learned from them, everything that stuck with you and made you think from different angles and perspectives, they didn’t seem to believe it.
It confused you at first, but you later realized that these beasts likely never met a human who bothered to learn about and from them. You showed each of them your sketches of their sharp eyes and obscured silhouettes, to which they only tilted their heads at how your drawings evolved over time.
Your initial drawings were loose yet sharp, pointed and undefined. They were sketches of what you thought were monsters, foul and wicked creatures that go bump in the night. But as the pages of your diary filled with more scrawled notes and stray illustrations over time, the nature of those depictions changed.
The creatures themselves never changed, but your perception of them did. They were still pointed, still dangerous. But the drawn lines now had form and purpose. It was more than fear and dread in the ink behind them. It was now curiosity, respect, a sense of neatness that wasn’t there before that only came from getting to know the drawing subjects better.
The sketches in the present were still only of silhouettes. You hadn’t seen their full forms, hadn’t seen their faces—they were always in deepest darkness, after all. But the figures weren’t exaggerated or overly rooted in your fear anymore. They were simpler, more accurate to what they appeared as. Creatures so similar yet so different from you and your kind.
The Lamb had tilted her head when you held out your journal with a loose impressionistic drawing of her. She seemed almost intrigued by your depiction. Faceless and sharp, but not menacing. Not entirely human-like or soft either. Just…different. A bony and clawless hand trailed against the page.
“We’ve seen so many of your kind now. Your faces blur together, sometimes. Like this.”
A single thin finger pointed to your drawing, to the faceless figure held up for her to see, and you pondered her words. You hadn’t considered just how outnumbered beasts were by humans. How many of your kind existed for every one of theirs? A dozen? A hundred? A thousand?
The Lamb then peered closer at the page in your diary, moving her chained hands to her head as if to compare the details in the drawing to her own features. It was mostly guesswork that made you draw certain things, as you always drew them after your visits—and it was nearly pitch-black and impossible to see their finer details in the first place.
From what little you could make out of the Lamb’s features compared to your drawing of her, her cloven hooves were slightly too small, and her fingertips were just a little too sharp in your rendition. Tiny details like that became more apparent the longer you stared at your inked sketch.
It was then that you realized with horror that you drew a certain crucial detail inaccurately—the Lamb’s horns. You could just barely see how the small horns atop her head curved in a different way than how you drew them initially. What other details did you get right? Which ones were wrong?
You didn’t know. It wasn’t like there was a good light source in their secluded tent area. Still, she appeared almost…pleasantly surprised by your diary’s pages? You couldn’t suppress the confusion in the way you tilted your head at how captivated she was with your drawings.
“This world and the humans in it…they tell us that we are horrid. Wicked things with foul forms and faces that mimic the beauty of their own. But here…”
She pressed her fingertips to the page with the drawing again.
“You make it seem so natural. Make us seem natural.”
She flipped through the pages worn by ink and pressure from scrawled writings, tilting her head at the latest set of your sketches. They were of the others, not in their cages, but simple silhouettes of what little you could make out of their forms. Despite having no color but black ink, it was still obvious which one was which just by their horns and most distinct features.
You obviously would have drawn them far more detailed and accurate if you had any idea what they actually looked like. The skin on the inside of your cheek was lightly chewed in thought, though you didn’t voice any of them for obvious reasons. Still, even your most idle and subtle actions were no match for the beasts’ perception, even in this near pitch-black darkness.
“You’re thinking again.”
A slight wave of embarrassment washed over your face, and you felt your spine go rigid for a moment. Truly, nothing went unnoticed by the Erudite. He was always observing, always studying you as if you were the strange creature and his kind weren’t.
“You wish to see us, don’t you?”
The Sentinel’s words made you avert your gaze downward in slight shame at being caught in your secretive desire. There was no point in pretending your curiosity wasn’t eating away at your soul.
“…Yes.”
You didn’t ask to see them. Just told them the truth. They would have been able to practically smell it anyway.
It was quiet for a few moments, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. It was better described as cautionary, like both you and the beasts were carefully navigating a slippery path. One wrong move and what little semblance of trust between you and them would shatter. But then they seemed to look at each other, almost as if communicating without saying a word. The Leader’s violet eyes narrowed.
“…Very well. If you are sure you won’t regret it…Bring your light once more.”
Your light? Did he mean the matchsticks you had brought that one time months ago? You were so surprised by his response that you almost didn’t comprehend it for a second. But you caught yourself before you looked too much like a fool. You quickly nodded, scooping up your things and making your way out of that darkness like you always had, leaving the beasts alone behind the curtains.
But just before you left, you tore out a few pages of your diary and handed them to the Lamb. She seemed to like your drawings quite a bit, and she appreciated them more than you ever would—especially since you now knew that some details were quite inaccurate. She didn’t mind, though, and gave you a quiet hum of gratitude upon being handed the pages.
For the first time since meeting them, you smiled just ever-so-slightly.
You allowed yourself to wonder that night. What did they really look like? Were they as loathsome and unnatural as the visitor’s whispers claimed? You stared at the pages in your diary, wondering what the dark inked silhouettes really hid.
But another thought came to your mind then. What did the caged creatures really think of you? Did they think of your words and actions the way you thought of theirs? It wasn’t wise to assume anything. Besides, how could a naive human like you hope to understand beings who weren’t human? You couldn’t even understand your own kind.
Your father’s voice appeared in your dreams that night. It was patronizing and condescending, and it lingered in your mind the entire day after you awoke. There was a certain heaviness in your heart that also lasted the entire day, but it was the kind of heaviness that only came from dread. Something wasn’t right. Something was going to happen, but what?
The next late-night visit was one that had a paper-thin layer of tension hanging in the air, like this single interaction rested atop a thin sheet of glass. You said nothing while taking a small handful of matches that had been tucked away in your sleep clothes. The beasts all narrowed their eyes in what you now recognized as them trying to pry into your mind and see your thoughts.
“This is your last chance, creature. Once you learn something, you cannot unlearn it.”
You turned to the Oblique, gaze resting on his. You had already learned of their existence, of at least part of the truth behind your father’s circus. Even if you didn’t see their faces, there was still no going back. And besides, it would be extraordinarily cruel to try to forget about them now after everything you’ve done for them…and everything they’ve done for you.
You kneeled on the cold ground in front of the Lamb, taking a single matchstick and preparing to scrape it on the rough floor. You hesitated for only a fraction of a moment. And then you pressed the match down and sparked it.
It was dead silent save for the crackle and slight hiss of the tiny flame in your hand, and you slowly moved the match in front of you to look upon the Lamb’s unobscured form.
She was…you didn’t quite have the word. Pale grey skin, sunken cheeks, cracked lips in a neutral, almost tense expression. Downturned pink eyes as usual, but now surrounded by long dark eyelashes. Her long and brittle hair was equally dark as night, almost absorbing every bit of light the match produced.
Then you noticed her other features. Pale pupils that became slits when taking in the light, small curved horns atop her head, slightly pointed ears, and then you noticed the…fur? Your eyes traveled downwards to her limbs, seeing that there was grey fur along her arms that darkened and thinned near her clawless hands. Her legs had longer ashen fur that covered her goat-like cloven hooves.
She seemed to shift a little the longer you looked at her limbs, evidently getting slightly uncomfortable with your silence. Wordlessly, your gaze went back to her face. You just stayed like that, staring. Your mouth opened to speak, but then a sharp pain traveled from your fingertips where you held the match in between them, and you quietly hissed. The matchstick had burned down and caught you off guard.
It was dark again, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t light another match, not yet. There was really only one thought on your mind.
“…You look so much like us.”
It was true. The Lamb’s face looked almost uncannily human-like. You obviously knew that the beasts had humanoid forms—five fingered hands, hair and eyes and proportions and senses mostly like your kind’s—but it was somehow strange seeing just how similar yet fundamentally different she looked.
But she was not frightening. Not in the slightest. You would even dare to think her quite lovely by your kind’s standards. No, by your standards. But the Knave evidently took issue with your observation, chittering a slow sound that you recognized as slight annoyance.
“We are nothing like your kind, naive thing. You trust your eyes far too much.”
You turned to meet his sharpened emerald eyes, moving to position yourself to now be in front of his and the Leader’s cages. The Lamb was next to you now, but her chains were not pulled taut, and you gave her plenty of room to move away. She didn’t.
“If I trusted my eyes any more than I already do, I would have run away screaming from this place a long time ago.”
It seems the beasts weren’t entirely expecting your response. You had learned a lot from them these past few months, and that included speaking your mind just a little more. The Knave huffed a little.
“…Perhaps so. You seemed scared enough when you first thought us to be mere shadows.”
Another matchstick was held between your fingers at this point, and you waited for either of the caged creatures in front of you to object to being seen in light. Neither the Knave nor the Leader said anything. So you created your light once more.
Another set of crackles. The shadows of the cage bars danced on the tent walls behind as you stared into the gaps between the iron prisons.
Dark grey skin, darker than the Lamb’s. Absence of fur on their limbs, instead only black limbs that ended with sharp claws. Equally sharp purple and green eyes stared into your own. The Leader had a set of four horns while the Knave only had two. Long and dark violet hair cascading past one face and short black curly hair resting atop another’s.
Their faces were less human-like, but they weren’t exactly frightening, just…different. You couldn’t help but tilt your head at the shapes of their jaw hinges, the way the sharp lines of their faces looked so similar yet so different compared to yours. Without any comparisons, they looked just as much a part of the earth as any other creature.
A longer glance at the green-eyed beast revealed his extra limbs, thin rope-like appendages that sprouted from his spine and pressed against his body. For warmth? Security? You couldn’t quite tell. You saw them writhe sometimes, but it was different to see them in the light now. It made you wonder what he would possibly use them for.
Returning your gaze to the violet-eyed beast gave you a closer look at his impossibly sharp teeth. Lengthened canines and wide pointed molars. Incisors that were longer than your fingertips. Only a few flat teeth for consuming what you assumed would be an omnivorous diet. You didn’t really want to ask the kinds of things they’d had to eat in the past.
It remained quiet as you stared at their faces, and you eventually noticed the vital difference between them and the Lamb’s face. Where the Lamb had an almost perpetually downturned expression, theirs were sharpened. They looked restless, resentful, hardened and embittered. It wasn’t exactly a shock, but it still made some part of your heart ache.
But even still, you didn’t tremble at the thought. You didn’t shy away from the cages, didn’t break your gaze. You just looked back into their bright-colored eyes.
“You’re not so scary.”
It was the truth. You expected worse, honestly. Other people whispered of vicious monsters, beasts seen only in nightmares. These creatures weren’t harmless, obviously, but neither were humans. The four-horned creature in front of you only tilted his head while narrowing his eyes, skeptical of your words.
“We can smell when you lie, beast. Don’t bother.”
The match in your fingers was about to burn down to your hand again, and before you could move to drop it to the floor or lightly wave it to be rid of the flame, the Knave in front of you reached a sharp black hand between his cage bars and simply pinched it between his claws, throughly extinguishing it. You watched it fall to the ground before turning back to that deep purple gaze.
“No, really. Your forms aren’t so frightening. You’re just…angry.”
“Angry. Hungry. Dying. All by the Ringmaster’s design.”
The Sentinel’s thin voice had reached your ears, and you turned to see his slumped form resting on the far side of his cage. Slowly, you walked over to his prison to hear him better, to know him better. Yet another matchstick was clutched in your palm, but again you didn’t immediately move to strike it.
There was a sorrowful look in the creature’s golden eyes. He didn’t move to stop you when you kneeled in front of his cage. The match in your hand was struck, and you couldn’t hide the sorrow in your own eyes upon seeing his form illuminated by the small flame.
He had long ashen white hair, and it fell over part of his face—which you realized had a slightly more pronounced snout compared to the others, almost like a canine’s or some similar creature. Scars littered his dark grey skin, more visibly than the others. He had been hurt in the past. Horribly hurt. They all had been hurt.
You said nothing, but the beast seemed to understand the look in your eyes, and he moved to sit up straighter, dark hands wrapping around a couple of his cage’s bars. You could see the way his black claws retracted, though for his own sake or yours, you didn’t know.
“Wait and hate. Wait and die. That is all we can do in a place like this.”
By design, you recalled from his earlier statement. They had not always been like this. Something led them to end up this way. But what? And how?
The golden-eyed beast didn’t answer, though you were sure he could see the questioning in your eyes. He simply tilted his head down, almost like he was admitting defeat. It was terribly sad to witness, and you released a shaky breath. These creatures were broken.
The match in your fingers fell to the cold floor, burning out after a few moments. It was quiet once more. You saw how the Sentinel slumped in his cage again, like sitting up for you to see had taken what little energy he possessed. You turned around, not wanting to face the sight for too long. It was all just so sad.
You carefully took small steps towards the last two cages, the ones holding the Oblique and the Erudite. Instead of sitting like you had for the others, you stayed standing, matchsticks in hand. You didn’t say anything. Neither did they.
Do not be so cruel as to grant us a sliver of warmth and then leave with it. Do not bring us light only to snuff it out.
You remembered the Oblique’s words as if they were spoken only yesterday. You looked down at the bundle of matchsticks in your palm, then back up into those mismatched white and dark blue eyes. Then you held out the bundle for him to see.
Make your own light, you wordlessly told him. You wouldn’t leave with the matchsticks tonight. Instead, you would give them the chance to bring light for themselves. They deserved warmth. The beast in front of you visibly stiffened. But slowly, he moved his larger palm out for you to pour your matches into, and you did so.
It was so quiet a pin could have been heard dropping to the ground. The only sound heard was you shifting back to allow the creatures some space, and then a faint scrape against one of the rough metal cages. One of the matches held by the Oblique had been lit, and you watched as both his and the Erudite’s features became visible with the tiny glow of the flame.
Dark grey skin just like the others. Sharp teeth and long claws and areas of raised skin where scars had formed. Some were faded and old, but others looked much more recent, still pale against their darker skin. Both of them had shorter hair than the others, which allowed you to see their pointed ears better.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think these beasts to be no different from some of the folkloric creatures you had read about—before your father forbade you from reading of such things. Perhaps that was where such stories came from, you realized. People of the past not understanding what they had seen.
The Erudite had a dark pointed crest descending down his entire face, feather-like quills of varying sizes sprouted and neatly patterned beneath his cyan eyes and below his ears. His hair was a blood red, a striking color against his eyes—which were staring into yours with just as much curiosity. It seemed he was taking advantage of the brief light provided by the matchstick to take in your appearance as well.
“You’re a strange one. Your face is almost…familiar.”
You didn’t quite understand what he meant. The Lamb had mentioned that human faces tended to blur together over time. Did these beasts perhaps perceive faces differently than you thought? Was your face perhaps like a stray cat’s patterning to them, indistinguishable and generic unless learnt and memorized?
The creature in front of you had tilted his feathered head, and you mimicked the action—A testament to how much time you had been spending with these beasts to have subconsciously understood and copied their habits. You could have sworn you saw something like the slightest and briefest twitch of the corner of his mouth in an upwards direction.
You turned back to the Oblique, seeing that he was quite different in appearance. His dark skin was almost completely smooth, almost pliable-looking save for a few small scars here and there. His single dark blue eye reminded you of the night sky just after dusk, and his white eye a pale full moon.
His expression was one of waiting. Maybe scrutiny. But you didn’t quite know what he was waiting for, or what he was watching so carefully for. Of all the others, he appeared to be the most rigid, like he was constantly concerned about something. It was almost jarring how he and the Erudite appeared to be polar opposites in terms of mannerisms.
But, like all the others, you didn’t ask any questions. It was a miracle you had been allowed to see them at all.
The matchstick had burnt out by now, and you instinctively knew that it would be the last. You had seen all of the creatures, all of their features deemed unsightly or monstrous, and you didn’t flinch away, not even once. They weren’t infernal demons. They were quite strange and sharp and different to you, but not inherently evil. Not worthy of any of the whispers they garnered.
It was silent for a long moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not to you. Not anymore.
You opened your mouth to say something, but stopped when you saw the beasts perk up as if hearing something in the distance, just like that night that other intruder came for the Lamb. The blood in your veins turned cold.
A couple of large hands wrapped around your midsection, and you nearly yelped like last time, but managed to clamp one of your own hands over your mouth this time. It was then that you realized that the Erudite and Oblique had each used one of their thinned hands to lightly push you into a gap hidden behind both of their cages, and you quickly nodded to affirm that you would curl up and hide as much as physically possible.
The large bony hands left your form, but you didn’t move your own palm away from your mouth. You stayed completely quiet and still as you tucked yourself even further away from the entrance, even as your curiosity burned. But now wasn’t the time to indulge such feelings. Someone was coming.
You could eventually hear what the beasts could—footsteps. It never ceased to briefly stun you how different the creature’s senses were compared to your own. The footsteps weren’t staggering or heavy, but purposeful. It sounded as though this person wasn’t worried about being caught or seen.
Every last muscle in your body tensed upon seeing a shadowed masculine figure emerge from behind the curtain entrance. Your body only got more tense when the person didn’t say anything for a few moments. It was unbearably quiet.
And then, the man sighed in a way you recognized. Your eyes widened.
“So, beasts, tomorrow is your last chance. Your last chance to prove your worth to me.”
That voice. You knew that voice. It was the voice of fear in your heart. The voice you associated with the Lord and His words.
Your father.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed your slovenly performances. The people here have grown tired of your kind. And you have proven to be quite difficult to keep.”
You watched as the beast’s eyes all narrowed, some in barely contained resentment, others in quiet fear and sorrow. It was hard to retain what your father was saying. It was hard to believe those cold and calculating words were in your father’s voice in the first place.
“So, there are two choices for you to make, monsters. Either you prove your worth to me alive, and this circus will relocate. Or…”
The air in your lungs stalled. You couldn’t breathe.
“You will be left here to die a slow and painful death. The choice is yours, beasts. I do hope you make one that you won’t regret.”
And just like that, your father left, footsteps eventually fading away. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t. Was that really him? How could he be so cruel, so uncaring? There was too much dissonance between who he was in your eyes before and now, it hurt your head to think about.
You briefly wished you had covered your ears instead of your mouth, just so you wouldn’t have had to hear such words in your father’s voice. A shaky breath finally emerged from your mouth, but it brought no relief. Tomorrow…
Tomorrow, if the creatures didn’t do as your father wished, they would be left to die long and miserable deaths. They would rot away in these cold cages in the dark, never knowing of warmth or a sated appetite or comfort. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak.
With trembling legs you forced yourself to stand and move to the center of the darkened room to face all of the imprisoned creatures. They didn’t appear distressed or frightened or even angry, just…exhausted. They didn’t appear nearly as affected as you knew you were. The Leader slowly began to speak in his hoarse voice.
“He torments us. They all do. All for the performances. And their creativity has yet to wane.”
It took every last bit of effort in your body not to allow your eyes to water. The casual admission that your father and the other circus members were cruel torturers made your intestines twist into all sorts of knots. You’re not sure how your voice remained somewhat leveled when you finally spoke.
“I…I didn’t know that. I know the Ringmaster. Or at least…I thought I did. I never would have thought him to be capable of such…”
Malice? Spitefulness? Barbarity? Machiavellian acts? No single word seemed to be enough. A chill started to travel across your sweat-dotted nape at the thought of where those recent scars on the beasts’ bodies came from. Your mouth was dry when you asked the sole question that had gone unanswered since you first met these imprisoned beings.
“How did did this happen? How did you end up here?”
Your fingers trembled the longer your question went acknowledged but not answered. This was the only way to get the full story. You didn’t want to hear your father’s version. You wanted to know the truth. Their truth. The Leader’s head tilted downward in defeat, teeth lightly gnashing together. And then you heard his gravelly voice utter low and exhausted words.
“…We were starving in our home. The desolate valley where our kind’s cries went unseen and unheard by any God.”
The violet-eyed beast’s voice thinned towards the end of his sentence, form slumped and eyes dimmed. He was too exhausted to continue. Or perhaps the memory was too painful. But when his voice faded, the Knave’s suddenly emerged from the dark.
“And one day, a man entered the valley. He found us hungry and sorrowful and desperate. And he saw an opportunity.”
When the Knave’s serpentine chittering came to an end, another voice replaced his. The others came together to weave the whole story of how they ended up in the circus, and your head nearly began to spin from the rasped voices all around you.
“The man told us that he would feed us if we worked for him. A set of shows, he said, to incite fear and curiosity and faith.”
“We were dying. In our desperation, we went to him and agreed. We thought that this would be a chance for us to survive and live together.”
A pause.
“We were wrong.”
“In the beginning, we were given many things. We had warmth. Food. Shelter. We were even allowed to wander within the circus so long as we weren’t seen.”
“The Ringmaster told us that we had to stay hidden. To protect ourselves from those who would fear our nature…or those who would seek to claim it.”
“Funny, then…that when the other humans came to watch us, they wanted us to hurt. They wanted to see our pain. And the Ringmaster was nothing but a slave to the crowd’s desires. And he was a slave to his own ambitions. He wanted more…always more.”
You swallowed a leaden weight down to your stomach, already knowing where this story was leading. You had played a part in it, after all. Unknowingly, but a component in this twisted circus all the same. The back of your throat tightened as though you had downed a mouthful of glass as the beasts continued to speak.
“So he tortured us. Forced us into crude and twisted performances. Beat us. Prodded us like cattle. Tore at our flesh. The crowds found joy in our pain, and the Ringmaster felt nothing but his desire for more.”
“And so he got more. And we were given less. We were forbidden to wander. Then our strength was slowly sapped. Then our warmth was stolen. And then we were forced into cages like animals. And now…we are here.”
“We came to him starving and hopeless and dying. And now, after all this time, he has everything. And we are still starving and hopeless and dying.”
Another pause. This time, you released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. It nearly became a dry heave. An ironic and breathy scoff came from your right.
“Pathetic, is it not?”
You didn’t respond, eyes burning and hands shaking. With short breaths you suddenly moved to grasp one of the Lamb’s chains and pulled as hard as you physically could against their linked bond to the floor, though obviously to no avail. Your efforts were useless and both you and the beasts knew it. Still, you didn’t stop trying.
You then moved towards the Knave’s cage, grasping one of the thin horizontal bars that supported the vertical ones and pulled as hard as your body would allow. Nothing. Not even a budge. It was too dark to see if the iron bars were simply bolted to the cage or welded, but it didn’t matter either way. If the creatures were too weak to make any impact, what hope did you have?
“No use, creature. Do not attempt to control something you know you cannot hope to. Our time grows nearer.”
You stopped your action upon hearing the Leader’s voice again. He sounded exhausted, defeated, utterly devoid of energy. He and the others would just…give up? No, not give up…they simply had nothing left. They were starved and hurt and broken beyond aid. Beyond your aid. Your eyes involuntarily wetted.
“But…but you’ll die.”
“Many of us have. Many of us will.”
The Knave behind the bars in front of you moved closer to your face, and you didn’t back away. Instead you searched his eyes for any shred of ambition, any sort of scrap of will to keep trying, keep living.
“We are no different from the game they hunt or an infestation to be purged. So they will get their extermination. We will get our freedom.”
Your hands remained clenched around the metal bars in front of you despite the Sentinel’s words. This couldn’t be it. Not after all this time, all your efforts. Did all of it mean nothing? Was this only an inevitable outcome? A song that never ends is no song at all, only senseless noise that is destined to fade and break. But this just can’t be how their story ends. This can't be all there is.
“Go on now, human. Leave us to our final performance. Grant us this last dignity.”
Your eyes squeezed shut. Your forehead came in contact with the cold metal bars in front of your face, and you could even feel the sparse warmth from the beast’s body inside it. There has to be something. There has to be another way. Your fingers gripped the iron bars even harder, so hard you were sure you’d get blisters if you held on for too long.
“…No. No. There has to be something I can still do. I can still-“
“Don’t you dare make promises you know you can’t keep, creature. Give us this one chance for peace.”
You should have listened to the Erudite’s warning, you really should have. Especially considering the Knave’s dark face was right in front of yours, emerald eyes sharper than ever before. But something in your heart refused to fizzle out into ash. It fueled you to speak just a little louder than before.
“But you’re not at peace! You want to live, you all do, I know you do! If I can just-“
The Knave suddenly gripped the bars of his cage, large and thin fingers grasped just right above where yours were clinging to the metal. The sudden metallic rattling made you flinch. You had never seen any of the beasts so quick to move. His form towered over yours as he rose up, tendrils along his spine writhing over his broad shoulders with his outburst of energy.
“Of course we wish to live. But there is nothing any of us can do. And there is nothing left for you here.”
Silence. You couldn’t argue with his pointed words. There was really nothing you could do. They would choose to die rather than continue to be hurt over and over again, and you couldn’t blame them. But it just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. They didn’t deserve this.
Your eyes searched and searched for something, anything that could be done. Though your sight was blurred from the water building up in them, they landed on the heavy lock near the top of the cage. Only a key could open it, this you knew and even tested with all sorts of other items.
The key…if anyone would have it, it would be your father. No other circus member was allowed to go near his personal area. But maybe…maybe you could. Maybe you could distract him, or even go into his private space if he wasn’t there.
“The key. I know where to look for it. I can find it. I’ll find it and I’ll-“
A series of hisses and low pitched animalistic noises came from nearly all of the cages, especially the one whose bars you still held onto.
“Have you learned nothing? All this time and you still cannot listen. Don’t you dare give us hope. Not in this place where it’s stamped out and turned to ash right in front of our eyes.”
The tears gathered in your eyes finally slipped down your cheeks. It was unbearably distressing to hear such a profound loss of hope. But what was worse was that you knew these creatures wanted to live so badly, but they didn’t have a choice. The most damning part was that their livelihoods had not been taken from them. The beasts had willingly given them to the circus with the hopes of living better than they had in their valley.
You couldn’t just stand and do nothing, no matter how much the creatures wanted you to. They wanted to live, to stand in the sun once more, to be able to do all of the things they spoke to you about from their lives. Your voice trembled as you just slowly shook your head.
“I’ll try my best to get you out of this place, I can promise you that. I know it isn’t much, but…it isn’t fair what was done to you. It just isn’t right. I’ll do everything I can to make this right.”
“Fair, beast, does not mean equal in this world. It means that one end of the bargain got what they wanted…and the other side can’t complain of it. You would be wise to remember that.”
You continued to quietly let your tears fall. Eventually your knees became too weak to support your body, and you sank to the floor. You recognized the Oblique making a sound that indicated he was going to chastise you in his slightly condescending way.
“If we wanted your pity, we would have asked for it. But this is simply how things are.”
But things are just wrong. Why were they acting so content when they clearly weren’t? It was almost like-
“That’s why you let me see your forms.”
The words left your mouth just as you made the realization, and the Knave in front of you nodded solemnly.
“Indeed. Is it so wrong to wish to be seen not as hell-spawned devils but simply as what we are?”
The Lamb had slowly moved to sit beside you at this point, the chains on her wrists pulled taut. She said nothing as you placed your palms on the floor in front of you helplessly. The Erudite warbled a deep sound.
“For what it’s worth…you have been good to us. Naive and foolish as you are, you proved us wrong. But we are out of time. And so are you.”
You hiccupped slightly, unwilling to accept this. That likely only proved that you were, in fact, naive and foolish. And stupid.
“But I haven’t done anything! I…”
A hand touched your back, and you flinched only to realize it was the Lamb’s. It was the first time any of the beasts had touched you outside of trying to hide you. Her eyes were even more sorrowful and downturned if possible.
“You have done everything you can.”
It certainly didn’t feel like it. These bound beings, these creatures…you dared to think of them as dear to you. They were frightening and sharp at times, but they taught you many things. They were the only bonds you had formed other than with your father. Just as the Erudite said that you were good to them, they were good to you. Not gentle, and certainly not kind, but good.
But what did someone like you know of goodness? You were just a sheltered human who knew nothing of the world, one who never had to starve or be deprived of warmth or loathe your nature simply because it was different from others. Your father made you think that spiritual purity was pivotal, but he was now revealed to be a minister of torture. What did he know of goodness?
You just held your head low, the Lamb’s hand not leaving your spine. But then the Leader spoke to you just above a whisper.
“Go on. Return to the light where you belong. Leave us to our darkness. And do not look back.”
None of the beasts said anything else. You sat there until the Lamb slowly removed her hand from your back, and you recognized that it was time for you to leave. But you wouldn’t just give up. You said that you’d do everything to try to help them, and there was still a way to possibly free them. You needed to find the key. There was no point in wasting time crying and despairing about things you were told couldn’t change. You’d see for yourself if your efforts were wasted.
A tiny bit of strength returned to your body, just enough for you to stand up and walk out of the tent and not look back as you dried your face. You wouldn’t go back until you had the key in your hands, this you swore to yourself. With clenched fists you navigated through the dark with a mere sliver of the moon lit to guide you, but you made your way to your father’s private area.
His study was much like your personal quarters, secluded from the rest of the circus near its outskirts. Now that you actually stood in front of the off-limits area, you hesitated—but only for a moment. You shook your head quickly and entered your father’s personal area.
Papers were strewn everywhere, business reports and contracts and all sorts of documents and whatnot. It overwhelmed you for a moment, but you quickly began to search for the key to the beast’s cages. But where would it be?
Minutes passed with no results, and you began to grow worried. How long until your father inevitably found you? He always seemed to know when you were getting into something you shouldn't be. Luckily, you had an excuse ready. But thoughts and actions were very different things. Sure, it was easy in theory to talk to your father, but...
You nearly jumped out of your skin and froze upon noticing a figure at the entrance. Your father, to be specific. He stood there with an almost...knowing expression. Your heart sank to your stomach. No, your feet.
"Father! I..."
Your words caught in your throat and rotted at the tip of your tongue. The part of your mind that held all of that resolve and desire to act was sidelined, replaced by an unfamiliar fear. Or perhaps it was familiar and you simply didn't recognize it for what it was until now. Father just smiled how he always did ever since you were little, not moving from his spot by the entrance and not acknowledging what you were just doing.
"It's very late. You've been sleepless these past few months, haven't you?"
You swallowed thickly. It felt as though you were just about to walk into a field full of tripwires while blindfolded. Was there a right and wrong answer here? Did it matter? You had to try anyway.
"I...I wanted to talk to you."
"Is that so? About the monsters?"
You stiffened. He couldn't know. How could he possibly know? He had to be testing you somehow. But you couldn't risk revealing that you knew about them, not when it could mean possible consequences for the caged creatures. You made a poor attempt at taking a deep breath.
"Monsters? I don't understand what you mean."
"I think you do."
Your eyes involuntarily widened when you saw something your father took out from an interior coat pocket. It was your journal, the one you shoved beneath your pillow every night. The one you wrote and sketched in after every late-night visit to the beasts. Your chest tightened. What little confidence you had gathered was crushed to dust.
"T...That's for my dreams. I've been having night terrors for months now."
Your father hummed as he idly flipped through the pages and scanned their contents, eventually coming across the series of ripped sections where the pages were torn out. Where the most recent drawings of the creatures had been before you gave them to the Lamb.
"Hm. Is that so?"
You just nodded slowly, unable to look your father in the eyes as you lied right to his face for the very first time. Your stomach churned, and you could only focus on trying not to let your fingers tremble. Father dropped your diary to the floor with a simple tilt of his hand, and you flinched at the loud noise it made when it hit the ground.
"Oh, my child. Hasn't anyone told you that you are a terrible liar?"
He began to step towards you, and you couldn't move. You bit the inside of your lip as you realized that he had no anger in his eyes, no worry or fear or anything like that. Just gentle admonishment as though you were small. That was somehow worse than anything else you could have imagined.
"Did you really think it was just that easy to sneak in, night after night?"
You weren't able to hide your trembling anymore. Father was within arm's distance now, and though it felt almost impossible to think, you realized that you were afraid of what your father might do. It was unsettling to think about just how much power he held over you, the caged creatures, the circus as a whole. Your father sighed a disappointed sound, and you shrunk away from him.
"I planned to let you learn on your own. But it appears that those loathsome things have seeped their influence into your mind. They have made you think that they are deserving of your pity and sympathy."
He brought his hands up, and you flinched away, swiftly turning your head and squeezing your eyes shut. But there was no harsh strike to your face, no painful grip on your chin. Instead you felt his warm palms press against your cheeks as he turned your face to gaze into your eyes. The action alone was enough to completely disarm you. You hadn't received affection like this in a very long time.
"My poor, sweet, naive child. You may be grown, but there is still much for you to learn. It is only natural that those demons would seek to corrupt your goodness."
Your eyes stung. Father was lying. He had to be. Those creatures were beasts, but they weren't demons. They spoke of connection, of love, of...
"You have lied to me. You tried to steal from me. You turn a blind eye to sins, especially your own. I no longer recognize you."
You didn't realize tears had begun to trail down your cheeks until they were gently wiped away by your father's thumbs, and then with a handkerchief you knew he always carried in one of his pockets. The gesture was far more nerve-wracking than if he were to strike your face or shove you to the ground in retribution for deceiving him.
But he was not angry with you. Only disappointed. The thought of it made your entire body shudder with deep dread. Yes, that's right. Despite your hidden resentments, despite his secrets, despite everything...you loved your father. You depended on him. He raised you, guided you, molded you into who you are today. Where would you be without him?
The thought alone made a peach pit-sized lump form in your throat. Your father hummed as if reading your thoughts and continued to speak while wiping your tears.
"Their hearts are black and empty. They know only to eat or be eaten. To hide in their shadows and lure you in to taint your precious light."
But…the creatures weren't like that. Were they? They told you to leave when you first encountered them. They didn't lure or seduce you into the darkness, you walked willingly into it. Father stared into your eyes as though he could see something that you couldn't, like he could tell there were still conflicting ideas within your mind.
“Dearest child. Don’t you see? They pulled on your heartstrings and strung you along to think against what I have taught you.”
You felt impossibly small beneath his gaze. When you were little, you might have considered that feeling to be comforting, knowing that your father was watching you and shielding you from the rest of the world. Like how he would guide you through your nightly prayers to God and His angels to protect you while you slept. But now, it only felt like he would crush you beneath his shoe, like he was looming in the hopes of smothering and suffocating you.
Perhaps that was just how it always felt.
You wiped your eyes with one of your arms, trying to suppress your hiccups and sobs as best you could—and trying to reject his gesture of care. You loved your father, but you had just learned that he was willing to let the beasts you dared to care about die painful and slow deaths. He was a cruel tormentor, but he was also drying your tears and cradling your face in his hands. You just didn’t know what to think anymore.
When you looked back at your father, he was holding something in his palm for you to see. Your gaze traveled downward to see that it was a slip of paper. No, it was a ticket. A front row seat for the grand performance tomorrow evening. A sharp pang of dread pierced through your heart as you realized what he was doing.
“See for yourself what your kindness would have brought upon you. See those beasts for what they truly are. Do that…”
He reached his other hand into a coat pocket, and you heard a light metallic jingle. Your eyes widened upon seeing your father take out a single metal key on a ring.
He knew.
He knew this whole time why you were here. But how? And when did he learn of you visiting the caged beasts? How much of the past few months had occurred only because of your father’s discretion? Had he really known this whole time? Your stomach started to hurt even worse.
“And I will let you decide for yourself whether or not you would wish to see them again.”
————
Everything felt like an awful dream after that. You couldn’t sleep that night, and during the day when tasked with passing out flyers for the grand show in the evening, your father would always watch you from a distance, acting as though nothing had happened the night prior.
It was an unspoken acknowledgment that he knew you had been trying your best not to pass out the papers in the past few months. He knew you hid them, crumpled them, folded them into different shapes to avoid letting people see them. His watchful eyes forever followed your movements, and there were no opportunities to be rid of the flyers now.
You constantly felt like you wanted to spit up the contents of your stomach right then and there in public—not only because there was an aching emptiness in your gut that never once subsided, but also because you wanted any sort of excuse to evade your father’s gaze. But time passed too slowly and too quickly all at once, like a hazy dream forgotten upon waking. The sun had eventually set as it did every day, and you found yourself loathing it. The time for the performance was soon. Too soon.
You watched a long line of people begin to form at the circus’s entrance, all of them eager to see the horrors the tents held. All except for you. You stayed there, frozen at the entrance, unwilling to get into the line with your ticket but also unable to simply refuse. You couldn’t just run off into the horizon and disappear along with the sun.
But you weren’t curious about the very thing you had desperately wanted to see just a few months ago. What happened to that innocent person who knew nothing of monsters outside of childish bedtime stories? What happened to the dutiful and diligent Ringmaster’s child? This circus and its shows were now the sole things you wanted no knowledge of. But this is what you longed for, is it not?
Pins and needles traversed every inch of your body as you took step after heavy step towards the end of the line into the circus, your small ticket held in your hands as though it were a set of iron shackles. The line shortened, and all too soon you were at the front, hands trembling as your ticket was taken and torn, the man—who you knew as one of your father’s friends who helped with the circus—behind the counter wishing you a good time at the show.
You took one last look into the sky as you trudged slowly past the circus threshold. It was a moonless night, and though you had walked this exact path more times than you could count, it felt foreign and unfamiliar with all the people surrounding you, especially the lights inside the tent you approached.
You walked slowly into the main tent, but unlike all those times before, the lights decorating the interior were glowing, providing an atmosphere that would be ideally welcoming and atmospheric but only felt hollow and foreboding to you. Inching your way towards the front row, you spotted a seat that had your name written neatly on a pale card with dark ink. It was in your father’s handwriting. A sour and acrid taste coated the back of your tongue upon reading it.
Reluctantly, you sat down in the spot reserved for you, feet constantly shifting and palms sweating. The world itself seemed to tilt side to side the longer you waited for the show to begin. It was too loud, too bright, too warm—even though you knew everyone else around you thought differently.
Every last muscle in your body tensed as if trying to turn themselves inside out and escape, a fundamental rejection of being here in this place at this time. A heavy weight in your gut kept you seated in your spot as though you had swallowed a mouthful of lead.
But just then, a single spotlight had been turned on, and at the center of the ring was your father. The Ringmaster. He spoke of fear and faith and something else, but his words went in one of your ears and out the other. You were too distracted with sheer anxiety and dread to fully pay attention to what he was saying.
But when he finished speaking in his charismatic cadence, when you and the rest of the audience had leaned forward in your seats with anticipation, he finally motioned to six small pedestals equally spread out behind him.
One by one, he introduced each of the “performers” to the audience by a title, and each one emerged from the darkness behind that familiar curtain shambling in heavy chains on their wrists. One by one, each beast was forced beneath the bright lights and onto the small pedestals. They all wore circus-like attire that clearly wasn’t comfortable nor made for them, colorful markings painted onto their dark faces.
It was strange and almost unsettling how much you could see of their forms in this lighting. The matches from before illuminated just enough, but not too much to where it was invasive. But these bright lights were merciless in making sure every last sharp edge and beastly feature was on full display. They likely felt no different from surgical overhead lights, unforgiving and far too exposing for prying eyes.
Your father briefly explained each of the creatures’ (likely fabricated) origins and their supposedly otherworldly abilities, and you only got more and more angry the longer you watched. The air in your lungs became thicker and harder to breathe in, but you couldn’t look away, not for a second.
The crowd behind you gasped and cried out and made all sorts of reactions upon seeing how “tame” the creatures appeared to be, but you remained completely silent as the show went on. Your eyes stung as you watched your father force the beasts through acts and stunts and routines that clearly strained their already weakened bodies. But the crowd urged for more, and so your father did too.
It was all just too much to take in. But the worst had yet to come.
The worst was when your father narrated how these beasts were children of deepest Hell, creatures of the night that stole the faces of humans and spread sin among proper society. The crowd became ravenous for cruelty, chanting and yelling out for the beasts to be punished and sent back to their infernal realm. Your breathing became shallow then as you finally turned your head around to look at the crowd. Were these people insane?
The man who blatantly lied about the “sins” of these creatures was not your father in your mind. He spoke of the one he called the Damsel—the pink-eyed beast—being a seductress and licentious spreader of lust, and of the one he called the Marionettist—the violet-eyed Leader—being a prideful manipulator of minds. One after the next, he spread lies only to spur the crowd on and make them scream out their desires for violence.
You flinched when the Ringleader and a few other men began to “punish” the beasts by either using nearly medieval methods of torture or forcing them into acts that only granted them further pain when their bony bodies obviously eventually failed them. The crowd couldn’t get enough of it. You felt sick to your stomach.
At some point one of the men had brushed a hand over the Lamb’s shoulder in a way that made you want to retch. When the golden-eyed Sentinel moved to try to protect her, he was harshly stabbed in his shoulders with a blade of some kind. The other beasts noticeably panicked and tried to move over to aid him, but they were stopped with wordless threats of worse punishments.
It wasn’t until you noticed their bright-colored eyes had met yours that you finally began to cry. Their faces were so unfathomably pained, so exhausted and desperate, and when each of them realized that you were in the crowd, their eyes widened briefly before squeezing shut in pain. You put a palm over your mouth to unsuccessfully contain your subsequent sobs. It was all just too much.
“Stop.”
It was just a whisper from your lips. A plea from the very depths of your heart.
“Father, please.”
You knew he wouldn’t and couldn’t hear you. And even then, you knew he wouldn’t listen. The look in his eyes was something you had never seen in him before. Greed. The look of a slave bound to his own desires.
“Please…please, don’t…”
What did your words mean against the entire rest of the crowd’s? What did your experiences and thoughts mean against the hatred shared by the rest of the entire world?
“Leave them alone.”
You had removed your hand from over your mouth, voice gaining just the slightest bit of volume. But it wasn’t enough.
“STOP!”
Your voice, as sob-filled and injustice-driven as it was in that moment, was drowned out. Why wouldn’t it be? What could you hope to achieve with your own voice that had never known speaking above a conversational level? You, who had never once stood up to your father, would now attempt to do so in a circus crowd.
It was pathetic, really.
You were just short of contemplating running directly into the performance ring to force your father to stop the shows, but the torment had finally come to an end. Exhausted and beaten nearly beyond recognition, the beasts were forced back into the darkness, dragged by their chains. Your father bowed and also stepped into the curtained area, into the dark, all while cryptically giving one last speech about deception and faith and whatever other nonsense he claimed to care about.
And just like that, it was over. The crowd seemed to return back to being consisted of normal people instead of crazed lunatics, and every last person quietly made their way out of the tent as if they hadn’t just witnessed horrible abuse. Did they rationalize it? Or did they simply not see anything wrong with it in the first place? Or did they truly believe it all to be fake? How did these people sleep at night knowing what they had chanted and cheered on for?
You were still left sitting there in your seat, heart hammering in your ribcage and lungs struggling to keep up. It took everything in you not to follow your father into that darkness and scream all sorts of profanities and insults at him and his godforsaken performances. Eventually, the idle after show chatter had faded away, and you were the only person left in the seats. But you still didn’t move, head held in your hands in sheer shock at what you had seen.
You weren’t sure how long you sat there. But judging by the way the entire area slowly became quiet, you would guess a couple hours at least. Eventually though, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to stare at the boots near your feet to know that your father had approached you, no doubt waiting for your admission that he was right all along like when you were young and impressionable.
“So you’ve seen them now. You’ve seen what I promised to one day show you.”
He spoke in that way he always did when he was waiting for you to admit that you were wrong and should have listened to him. Did he really think you to be that stupid? Did he really think that you had gathered that he was the one in the right after the show? After what you saw in his eyes? In his actions?
You began to tremble, but it wasn’t with fear this time. It was with sheer anger. Remembering his question, you nodded only once to answer it, head raising to meet his gaze with eyes unclouded by your previous misplaced trust in him. Yes, you indeed did see those creatures for what they truly are. But more importantly, you saw your father for what he truly is, too.
“Those beasts…they’re hurt creatures who were tricked and forced to perform! You’re the only real monster here! You went to them and you lied!”
Your words started out hissed and nearly mumbled, but they rapidly gained strength and volume as you continued speaking. You stood up from your seat, movement fueled by pure rage at father’s audacity to believe himself untouchable. But your father cut you off before you could continue, which only angered you further.
“I gave them an opportunity. But I realize now that there’s no point in negotiating with unreasonable beasts. They have failed me. Just as you have.”
The veins in your knuckles were white-hot as you clenched your fingers impossibly tight into fists as your father kept speaking. You knew your face had twisted into something ugly and furious because his had done the same upon seeing it.
“I raised you to be diligent, dutiful. Instead you defy me like a shallow sinner and succumb so easily to the temptations of those foul things.”
You were surprised your molars didn’t crack from the pressure you put on them from the anger channeled in your jaws. Pure fury roiled within your chest at what you now realized was just meaningless jargon about God and sins and demons. You pointed a single finger at your hypocrite of a father, and it was clear he never expected such sheer outward expression from you by the way his face reflected shock for just a moment. It was the most unsettled you had ever seen him in your whole life.
Good.
“The only one who succumbed to sin is you with your greed! You know what those creatures are. You always have. They’re not demons or monsters, they’re just different from us! They love, they fear, they hunger! They were starving. They were starving and dying and desperate, and you took advantage of them!”
The air became thick, but you didn’t care. It was a miracle you were able to get all of that out without a single stutter. You panted heavy breaths between clenched teeth, the sides of your head aching just above your temples where your jaw hinged. One of your father’s eyes twitched, another sign of him being completely unsettled by your outburst. He looked at you as though you were a foul fanged beast foaming at the mouth in need of chains.
But then his eyes darkened as he tilted his head upward. He refused to allow his ego to be hurt by his own child, that much was apparent. You briefly wondered if he would finally drop the “pious refined man” act once and for all.
“And that advantage has faded. Even starved and caged and beaten, those filthy creatures are still too troublesome to keep.”
You were confused, and you were sure your face reflected that. What did he mean? There was no way the creatures are of any threat with how thoroughly hurt they are now. Your father narrowed his eyes. He knew something you didn’t. He angled his head in a way that you recognized as condescending, a small smile creeping onto his face.
“You don’t know, do you? The basis of their nature. Their reason for living.”
Father stepped closer to you, but you refused to back down. He seemed to take that as a challenge.
“What do you think allows them to do such things that we can only call black magic or otherworldly? What is it you think beasts of their kind feast on? It isn’t any livestock you can think of.”
Your stubborn resolve was shaken for only a moment, but your father saw it. He always did. You momentarily took your eyes off of his to think. Was he just lying? He had to be. You fed the creatures yourself. Granted, it was meager portions of subpar nutritional value, but it kept them from dying. Your fiery gaze went back to his patronizing one.
“You’re lying. That’s all you do. That’s all you’ve ever done!”
“Am I? Those things, they’re never truly sated, are they? There is only one thing their appetites are satisfied by. You saw it yourself, didn’t you? Their eyes. Their twisted hunger.”
You involuntarily remembered that time you cut your finger in front of the beasts, how they all went silent and fixated on your blood. You could tell father could see the gears turning in your head, and you rapidly shook your head to be rid of the memory. He was just getting into your head, trying to give you reasons to give in to fear. Trying to shatter your resolve. No, you couldn’t let his words seep into the cracks of your mind. You wouldn’t.
Upon seeing your face and your refusal to listen to him, father’s gaze had darkened. It was almost enough to catch you off guard, but you caught yourself first. You didn’t remove your gaze from his face as he reached a hand into one of his costume’s pockets, and you heard that light metallic jingling again. His fingers dangled that single key to the cages in front of your face as if you were nothing but a dog outside a butcher shop.
“Very well. Go on, then. Give those creatures the freedom they seek. Learn for yourself what their truth is.”
He then dropped the key, and you quickly caught it in your palms and held it close to your chest like it would be taken away at any moment. He took one step back, then a few more, then he turned around to walk out of the tent, arms held behind his back as he did so. You stared daggers into the back of his head.
“Just don’t ever say I didn’t warn you. I’ll be waiting.”
You wanted to yell after him, to curse under your breath or even spit at his heels, but you refrained. Somehow. What mattered now was that you had the key that would free the beasts from their dark and cold prisons. That was why you did this, why you went to the show in the first place, why you defied your father at all.
And now, father truly wasn’t watching. Nobody else was here. This was your chance.
Though the walk itself to those curtains was short, it felt especially foreboding on this moonless night, likely because of how much you had done just to get the key. But none of that mattered in this moment. You repeated that over and over again, not letting yourself think too much about the future. You promised to help, and now you would help. That was all that mattered.
You slowly approached and parted the curtain like you had so many times before and stepped into the darkness, being extra careful not to make any sudden movements. The caged creatures must be especially vulnerable after those brutal acts and during the performance. You clutched the metal key in your hand tighter, making sure that it still existed in your grip. You had sworn not to return unless you had it, after all.
But as your eyes adjusted in the dark, and as you utilized the sliver of light from the performance lights behind you, something became overwhelmingly apparent. The imprisoned beings were no longer imprisoned. The green-eyed Knave stood in front of one cage, its iron bars bent in different directions to allow for him to escape.
The sight was so jarring that you simply stood there and blinked for a long moment. But no matter how many times you checked if you were seeing things correctly with eyes adjusted to the shadows, the sight remained the same. The Knave was no longer caged. As a matter of fact, none of the others were caged either. They all stood outside of their bars, having freed themselves.
But…how?
How did they gather the strength and energy to go so far as to bend the bars of their cages? And after such a brutal performance? It just didn’t make sense. How were they all out and about?
Wait. No. Not all of them.
Where is the pink-eyed beast? Where is the Lamb? You saw her get dragged back here just like the others. Your gaze traveled downward to see if she was sitting on the ground, but there was nothing. Nothing but broken chains and pried shackles and…tattered cloth? Torn ribbon and scraps of stained fabric and shiny dark splotches on the floor…
No, you recognized those ribbons, those scraps of cloth, the unmistakably coppery and sickeningly warm smell you only now realized was hanging in the air.
It was then that you also noticed a distinct dripping patter. The source of the sound was revealed to be from the sharpened claws and wetted chins of the beasts, and the liquid was the same dark color as the stains on the floor. They had just eaten something. They had just eaten fresh meat. They had just eaten…
A sudden heavy weight settled just inside your ribs, making the surrounding air feel too thick and too thin at the same time. Either way, it was nearly impossible to pull anything into your lungs. That acrid and bitter taste at the back of your throat returned tenfold, bile threatening to trickle at the very end of your tongue.
You looked back up only to realize that all of the bright and colored eyes were staring directly at you. No, staring directly into you. You didn’t even realize your fingers had begun to shake until the metal key in your palm fell to the ground with a resounding clatter that sounded far too loud and echoed for far too long. Whatever scraps of resolve you had salvaged earlier were nonexistent now. The words that somehow came from your mouth were whimpered at best.
“You…You…”
A couple of them shifted, and you flinched. Why you didn’t move to run or scream or do anything, you had no idea. The Erudite then noticeably tilted his feathered head as if observing something like he used to during your late-night visits. You almost didn't recognize his eyes. They were a bright crimson instead of that usual cyan.
“You are the Ringmaster’s child.”
Your breaths became shallow. The fact that the beasts now knew and acknowledged your connections to the circus leader only made your fear unimaginably worsen. Would they have found out one way or another, their senses more keen than yours ever would be? Did they already know and simply waited for you to admit such important information yourself?
The words you tried to muster up clogged at the back of your throat. But there was a palpable sense of something being fundamentally wrong about the creatures stood within the darkness. Something different.
“How is it that such a cruel man raised and taught one such as you, the opposite?”
It was hard to pay attention to the Knave’s words when he sounded completely out of it. He didn’t sound as if he was all there, like he was in a deluded and dazed state. They all seemed to act like that, actually, forms slightly swaying side to side like they weren’t used to standing upright. It was a deeply disturbing sight.
But just to make sure they wouldn’t misunderstand you for being the child of their tormentor, you tried to reason, tried to tell them that you had no idea about what was happening in the shows. But of course, your mind was too flooded, thoughts and feelings and impressions all swimming together and leaving you hardly capable of stringing up a single coherent sentence.
“I…I didn’t…”
“You didn’t know. You didn’t know until tonight. Your face says it all. And we don’t resent you for it.”
The Leader’s unexpectedly considerate words put you slightly more at ease. But that would prove to be a terrible mistake to make around monsters when you heard what he said next.
“But now you must know that we do not do this out of malice. Not towards you.”
Confusion was written all over your face, and you didn’t bother hiding it. What did they mean? What were they going to…
You tried backing up to regain some level of control over your body, but ended up bumping into a large form behind you. On instinct, you tried to turn around, but one long, beastly arm wrapped around your midsection, and another large pointed hand clamped around your wrists to prevent you from moving. By process of elimination of the beasts in front of the cages, you realized that it was the golden-eyed Sentinel that had snuck up behind you and was now silently holding you still, not reacting in the slightest to your struggling. You started to panic.
“Wha-What are you-“
“We are free, but not safe. We can only hope to survive if we manage to live among your kind. But to do that, we must become human ourselves. And to become human…”
The beasts stepped closer and closer to your struggling form, and you were going to yelp or cry out or just say or do something, but a dark clawed hand had pressed over your mouth. The Knave emerged from your blind spot, having moved closer to you faster than you thought he could. He had a demented look in his emerald eyes that made your eyes water.
“We must know your flesh.”
You attempted to scream, to bite, to struggle, to cry, to reason, anything. It was all useless. The Sentinel noticeably trembled behind you, but his grip didn’t loosen even a little. If anything, it only got tighter. Hushed and rasped whispers came from everywhere and nowhere.
“Quickly. Use your poison. Numb the pain.”
The others had fully approached you now, forming a loose half-circle around you and the golden-eyed fellow beast who held you against your will. Your eyes widened when you fully comprehended what the Oblique had said, and you began struggling as hard as you could when you saw the emerald-eyed creature lean towards you with the claws on his free hand lengthened. You struggled for your life.
But before you knew it, there was a sudden warm and wet trickling on your neck, and then a prickling burning sensation that traveled from the wound directly into your veins. You began sobbing at this point, already knowing what had been done. The Knave’s cold and skeletal hand remained firmly placed over your mouth, though whether for the beast’s sake of not being caught or some attempt to console you, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.
The Leader had stepped forward and trailed the claws on one hand against your forehead in a way that reminded you of how a farmer consoled its livestock before being slaughtered. Gentle and mildly considerate, but not remorseful. Especially since you and everyone else knew exactly what was being done to you.
You were being murdered.
It only just now fully hit you. You were going to die. This was it. You were being killed by the very beings you wanted to set free. You were going to be eaten. But worst of all, you were being betrayed. You sobbed even harder if it were possible at that, and the violet-eyed beast in front of you swiped a thumb under one of your eyes in an attempt to cease your endless tears.
“Be still, dear human. We grant this last kindness in her name. She who considered you a friend despite your nature as a human.”
Despite the fact that you knew your lungs hungered for air, no amount of breathing could satisfy that ache. Your heartbeat didn’t quite match the primal panic you knew you felt. Your lungs were impossibly heavy, and it felt as though every last vein in your body from the very top of your head down to the ends of your feet was on fire. But your blood felt cold as ice. Your fingertips started to tingle. A metallic taste started to form on your tongue.
Oh no. No no no no no no no no
“Wait until the light leaves the eyes. Wait until the blood goes still.”
No no no no no no no no this isn’t happening you can’t be dying this can’t be real this has to be a nightmare
“A painless death is one rarely attained by your kind from ours, and our kind from yours. Our gift to you, as you were good to us when the rest of the world wasn’t.”
You’d hardly consider this to be a kindness or painless or a gift. Perhaps a cultural aspect among monsters that had simply gone unmentioned by them in your late-night visits. It became harder to breathe now, and your pulse had slowed even more, forcing you to become dizzy. The room began to spin and blur together as your strength was rapidly depleted in the span of just a couple of minutes. You couldn't feel the ground beneath your feet. Then the paralysis reached your ankles. Then your shins.
The monsters continued to watch you struggle and fight in a way that reminded you of a cat watching its prey struggle beneath its paw. You wanted to ask them why. Why would they do this to you? But you could barely form sobs, let alone words. And you could feel deep within your heart that these creatures wouldn't hear them anyway. There was something present in their eyes that wasn't there before. A veil of insanity draped over their minds that made them hardly right in the head. Hunger-driven lunacy? A psychotic break triggered by the threat of death?
It didn't matter.
“In this way, you will be remembered as you were. You will not have the chance to become cruel and empty as all humans inevitably do.”
Had your knees buckled at some point? You didn’t notice you had lost sensation in them, and the same thing had occurred to your fingers. You didn’t fall to the ground, though, instead the grip on your midsection shifted as you were slowly and gently placed onto the floor as though you were merely about to fall asleep. You struggled to keep your eyelids open despite the fact that your mind screamed at you to stay awake.
“You will stay as you are. Naive. Unknowing. Good. And we will regain our strength from you. Strength enough to take our freedom by force.”
The hand that was held over your mouth wasn’t there anymore. When was it removed? You tried to scream to no avail. You tried to mumble but failed. All you could get out was a strained whimper. You were scared. Despite your deceptively slowed heart rate and shallow breaths, you were terrified. But your body was no longer yours.
You couldn’t move any part of your body. Not even your lungs fully obeyed. They only got slower and slower, as did your heart. The ends of your arms and legs were completely numb. You watched with spotted and blurry vision as your arms were gently held by the other beasts, though the gesture didn’t appear to be comforting. No, it looked like…
Like they were studying and inspecting your flesh. It was no different than a piece of meat at a market for them. You let out another strained whimper, quieter and weaker this time.
The Leader had trailed his clawed fingertips against your hairline this time, the gesture not even vaguely similar to any kind of consolation. He and the others were murdering you, and a quick touch was supposed to be a comfort? It was the equivalent of putting a single suture on a deep and gaping wound. He began to speak again, but to who? The others? Himself? It was impossible to tell at this point.
“We will reclaim our roles. We will form a new life. A new circus. A new home, just as she wished. One built on her sacrifice…and now yours.”
But this wasn’t…
Was he telling himself that this was a sacrifice on your end? Was this genuinely how he viewed it? Was this simply what he saw as the truth in his manic lust for blood and consumption? The way he worded it made you briefly wonder if all this was at least partially your fault.
Was there something you had missed? Was there another way this all could have ended? Were you just too stupid to see it? Too naive to think that there was any other way? Too stubborn and foolish like your father to consider any other option?
Was this life of yours a waste? Were you destined to have such a short and unfulfilled existence? Why did you have to be so dependent on your father? Why did you have to become so involved with these inhuman beasts?
Tears continued to slide down your face, thought the sensation was distant and numbed now. You wanted to laugh an ironic and empty sound at your circumstances. What else was there to do upon reflecting back on your pitiful life with only your father and these creatures as the bonds that gave your life any semblance of meaning?
Thinking about it now, both your father and the imprisoned ones thought you to be naive and foolish, a mere child in the grand scheme of things who had never known profound struggle or a desire so desperate that it split your very soul apart at the seams. But they are both right and wrong. You realized that now.
Within the truths of your father and these creatures, you realized your own. You were unknowing of the world, sheltered, kept locked away your whole life, yes. But you still knew pain. You still knew what it meant to want. You knew struggle not in physical needs but emotional. You desperately wanted to understand and be understood in turn. You wanted to be seen. You wanted to be seen and loved and wanted despite your flaws. Even though you knew you were naive. Even though you were stubborn. Even though you were weak.
You just wanted someone to care for you unconditionally just a fraction of the way you wished to care for others. Like your mother. But she was dead now. And the only person you had left was your father.
But your father’s love, your god’s love…it was conditional. One wrong move, one action deemed wrong or irredeemable, and you were cast out. A pale fabric stained and spotted and thrown away as mere garbage.
What would it be like, you once wondered, for someone to see your stains and spots and imperfections and love you anyway? What would it be like to be able to show your faults and flaws and fears?
You didn’t know. And now you never would.
And yet, even as your heart beat slower and slower, as your hands grew cold and numb, you couldn’t hate the beasts who would do this to you. You just couldn’t bring yourself to harbor any true resentment towards them. In your foolishness, you had let them become dear to you. For it, you were dying. For it, they would consume you. For it, you didn’t have any of the rage or grieving despair you knew you wanted to have.
You really only felt such things towards your father…and yourself.
Why did you and that cruel man have to meddle with things neither of you fully understood? Why did that greed-driven man have to try to contain and control starving beasts that ate humans? Why did you have to go into this tent on that fateful night all those months ago?
Perhaps that is what your father meant all those years ago about your insatiable curiosity and desire for knowledge coming from him.
Perhaps that is what the monsters were hinting at when they spoke of how you wouldn’t have the chance to turn cruel and empty like your father, like all humans.
But even still, you didn’t want to accept any of this, not even now. Just because you didn’t hate these beasts didn’t mean that you were completely fine being killed and eaten by them. And just because these beasts rightfully deserved their revenge after all the injustices they faced doesn’t mean that you wanted to be the catalyst for it.
Your vision was finally starting to fade now. Black spots dotted your vision as you continued your struggle to cling to your life. But there was simply nothing else you could do. Sharp eyes of different colors—now devoid of pink downturned ones—stared down into your own. The last words you would hear would be from the golden-eyed being who you just now realized was cradling your head in his lap, sharp claws slightly digging into the sides of your head.
“Sleep.”
His voice was impossibly distant despite the fact that his face was just above yours. In your delirium you briefly thought it to be the bone-dry hushed voice of Death beckoning you. Or was it the ancient voice of God calling out to you only now when you met your unjust end?
What a cruel Father, you thought as your vision narrowed and the world itself seemed to bend and warp and fade away. If Heaven was where He or your father would be, then you would sooner face both of them head-on and walk backwards into Hell. You decided with the last shreds of your supposedly gifted free will that you had no god. And you no longer had a father.
A deep and slow breath left your lungs and escaped between your lips. It was not followed by a breath in. Your heart faintly thumped in your chest for what would be the last time.
Everything went darker and darker, until there was no light, no warmth, no sound.
Only emptiness.
——————————————
≫ GOD this took forever to write holy shit. I did not expect it to get this long I swear. Would you believe me if I told you this was supposed to be a short list of headcanons??? >.>
≫ There was also an additional scene that I ended up CUTTING, believe it or not. It involved the reader’s father proposing for them to become the new owner and ringleader of the circus, to which they’d be horrified and vehemently reject said offer and go off to meet the monsters in their cages.
≫ I ended up cutting that scene bc I thought it would have been a little slow for what I was going for. Womp womp ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
≫ I also had a tiny scene of what happened after the reader meets their fate. A little epilogue of what happened to their father, the monsters, the circus...lemme know if y'all wanna see that as a little add-on or tiny bonus part!
≫ Also originally I was gonna have the reader actually come up with the Commedia Dell’arte names for the monsters, but the longer I thought about it…it just didn’t make sense. So I came up with the other nicknames.
≫ The bible verses referenced in this work are, in order: 2 Corinthians 11:14, 1 Peter 5:8, Romans 12:12, Luke 8:17, Ecclesiastes 1:8, Psalm 23:4, 2 Corinthians 4:18, and James 1:20. All in the NIV for consistency!
≫ I am not currently religious (though I was raised catholic) so please forgive me if any of these verses are misused or otherwise quoted in a manner that could be considered poor taste. Religious trauma amirite (may or may not have deconstructed my childhood for this uhhhhh)
≫ Feel free to use this work as a baseline for any of your own AU’s, OC’s, etc! I’ve got a few ideas of my own floating around. Just spitballing here, maybe this Past!MC could be another restless ghost lingering in the circus like Columbina, or maybe the Present!MC is a reincarnation of them or maybe a distant descendant of the Ringmaster…go crazy! I’d love to see it all!
≫ This work was made entirely without the use of AI. I do not consent to any text from this work being scraped to use in any sort of character-based AI or other LLM.
≫ Thank you SO much for reading this, it means a lot! :)
Your long for privacy again, bit at least there's only two clowns stalking you... right?
One shot, gender neutral reader, short scene, atempt at comedy
The first thing you do when you get home is throw your things on the nearest object and yourself at your bed, today and been a long... really long shift
People came and went, the circus continuing being the talk of the town, and probably will stay that way for... a lot longer, you of course, knowing exactly why that is and... perhaps being a bit to blame yourself for the... unfortunate incidents are happening too
Regardless, as long as Carol was alive, because well you doubt she will ever be again after being drugged to become a mindless doll, you have no complains, let them do whatever they want, not your circus any- never mind
Scrolling through your phone, you type on the search bar "means to keep evil spirits and / or devils away for dummies", studies of those same subjects have been all you have find yourself researching for lately
Did they ever work? No, but fuck man if monsters actualy exist them SOMEONE has to have found a way to deal with the supernatural, shit you aren't even looking for a permanent solution just something to guarantee a bit of privacy...
And speaking of the devil, literaly, your trained ears pick the soft jingle of bells coming from your balcony, with exasperated sigh you get up and, harder than you meant to, open the glass door to the outside world
Catching in mid climb, the white-haired Pierro, his black and bright yellow eyes wide from the Sudden movement, his month no were to be seen
"... you gotta stop climbing to the second floor people will notice someday" you move to help the clown, even if you know he doesn't need it anyways, but courtesy is what kept you alive to this day... you hope...
His voice is barely a whisper, his pale face, for you know it is made of something that is not quite a mask but not quite skin, burns lightly pink, shy or embarrassed as he is by being caught "you heard me..."
"No shit" you snort at his demeanor anyways, deep down a part of your brain is asking itself if it is too late to seek therapy or a mental asylum at this point, for despite all the OBVIOUS flags, you have found yourself actualy charmed by the crazy performer... where has your sanity gone? You wonder briefly... especially now that you dig in your pockets to gift your stalker a set of keys "here"
Pierro tilst his head sideways, big wondering eyes going from your hand to your face "keys?"
"For the front door" You sigh, closing his hand around the set "so you can stop giving me a heart attack and paranoia"
The clown is trembling, smile tretched tightly as it gets when he gets excited, muffled you could hear heavy breathing and red tints his face ever stronger by the passing seconds
You ignore all this and continue to walk back inside your apartment "might as well, right? It's not like i can stop making you show up, so might as well handle you the keys. Just don't eat everything on the fridge, alright? I need a bath... and a nap... definitively a nap..."
But just as you were about to cross the door, a giggle makes you look up, the squeak you gave was definitively not good for your dignity but God damnit did Harlenqueen ever knew how to freak you out when he wanted to
The green clown chuckles, but there is no glint of mischief in his neon eyes. No, they are narrow and... perhaps, genuine resentful "my my if I knew all it took to get an invitation to your house free of charge at any time,bwas to keep being such a clingy dog, I'd gladly put on a colar for you~"
You imediatly slap your hand on Harlenquins' neck, making sure your fore arm covers his chest as you gently push him out of your way, it was never a guarantee that Pierro wouldn't throw his knifes at his companion when he as much as breathed three feet away from you, but you hope they could at least behave today, you would hate to clean blood of your curtains... again
"Fucks sake Harleen give a heads up when you do this shit" you feel claws grip your free hand, a looming shadow behind you is insisting in having your attention again, so you give in and pull Pierro along for the inside of your house, leaving Harlenquin behind
"What?" The green clown asks mockingly "no keys for me? I'm hurt dearest, after the good times we have had-"
"There were no good times" you cut him before one of Pierros' knife do "and I only had a budget for one set of copies. Wait your turn, geez. "
"..." now he shuts up, impatient prick, he even has the gall to shine his alredy bright eyes, month only a small gap of razor teeth in surprise "you were actualy planing to give me a set too?"
"Yeah, but it was supposed to be a surprise like Pierros'- don't look at me with those kicked puppy eyes. You got yours first - because you two will keep showing up at my house, and i really don't want any cops or god forbid neighbors being suspicious"
You ignite the stove and put a pot with water in it, might as well make coffee for your "guests", all the while your clingy pierrot doesn't let go of your hand and even rests his head in the back of yours, you can feel him pouting
"Besides" you gesture for Harlenquin to sit on the nearest chair, as if he wasn't already doing that to begin with, the familiar shit eating grin back at it's place on his face "it's not like i have any more stalkers besides you two righ?"
Both clowns nod, agreeing to something at least, but you freeze
As if your body needed a wake up call, you feel eyes still watching your every move even if you were so sure there would be no more, and from the corner of your vision you see a shadow on the mirror
A mirror that stays perfectly positioned in your room to be seen from the kitchen of the small apartment, and that shadow looks at you with only one amusing eye
You groan, and if you were anything but human you would probably have actualy growled, letting go of Pierros hand and marching pissed back to your room, the attitude so strange that shocks both clowns into a stun
The shadow is not there for the naked eye, but you know he is still here, and with the confidence of a trained demonologist, you dive both hands at your mirror, and they pass thoroughly immediately. Deciding to not think and only do you ignore the screams of wrongness and strangeness your brain gives your gut,how this wasn't supposed to happen, how a mirror should be solid and not... moist
You feel him, and you grab him, and you pull him out directly to your floor, you bark "are you fucking kidding me?!"
The ticket taker looks at you neutraly, as if this was expected "you could have just asked for me to come out"
"OFF MY MIRROR?! IN MY OWN ROOM?! CAN YOU JUST GO TO ANY MIRROR NOW?!"
Pierro, for his part, looks genuinely shocked while Harlenquin recovered really quickly, and faintly, you hear "do you think he would let me borrow that mirror to see them too?"
You ignore it as well as the sound of slashed meat, and continue ranting now, pacing from side to side as the blue ring master dusts his clothes back into shape "is there anyone else I need to know that is stalking me now? My grandma? My ex? My shadow?!"
And as if summoned like the devil himself, a hand grabs your feet and at this point you only look down and... yup... your shadow has purple eyes now, and it's getting off the ground "what the fuck"
For all it matters, now Harleen looks genuinely frightened and Pierro just freezes, but of course the ticket taker only looks mildly surprised
"I thought we would take turns," the bastard has the gall to say
"I heard you screaming from my tent" Jester chuckles into reality "and this looked like a party... what are you two doing out of the circus at this hour?"
The ice and threat that those words carried went right above your head because you were genuinely so fucking tired of this bullshit, you need to get out,get some air, SOMEWHERE WITHOUT THOUSANDS OF EYES ACTUALY FOLLOWING YOU WOULD BE EXCELENT RIGHT NOW
You groan pinching your nose "first my balcony, then my mirror, now my shadow, you know what let me get out for fucks sake DOES NO ONE KNOW THE MEANING OF PRIVACY ANYMORE?!"
You continue walking, ignoring the eyes following you as you march to the door "i might as well go visit the doctor and let him vivisect me, what is that compared to four people having already seen me butt ass naked at this point"
And right as you open the door... there is the biggest plague doctor of your nightmares, holding your tinny jacked in his arm, he looks at you like an owl with those big red tinted glasses
ALTERNATE TITLE: The monsters are literally all in heat and Doctor keeps them all from getting laid to the point it hurts-
Thought of this after @that-one-weird-simp showed me some of darthsuki's streams and the Cock Block Doctor trend that I found hilarious! It does take place in the Monster Yuu Au. Basically just a shitpost at this point LOL. (Psst. @dustybustyy)
Warnings: Innuendos, Harlequin IS his own warning, horny monsters, boners mentioned, sexual tension but nothing actually explicit,etc.
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!
Plus a funny meme they made when I told them my idea for this:
Yknow-....It's not that they DIDN'T love Doctor.
They all did. Whole heartedly. They LOVED Doctor.
He was always the calm one. He always knew exactly how to treat anyone when they unfortunately caught a case of human flu. He could slice the best sandwich meat. Gave the best massages! No seriously. The man knew muscles enough to probably be the best masseuse in the world. And arguably he was the smartest one out of all six of them.
So what was wrong?
"Harlequin, are you ready for your prostate exam yet?"
Harlequin froze. VERY comically. Eyes opening to the size of plates.
"You've been putting it off for almost two weeks now! Everyone else is done with their yearly full body physicals except you. If you just hold still and let me get your physical done, it'll be less inconvenient for everyone involved!"
How did this extremely awkward moment happen?
Well it surprisingly didn't start at Doctor's tent. It actually started randomly in Harlequin's tent. Right after a show and everyone was gone except just the two of them. Yuu already had a pretty good idea of what Harlequin wanted when he not so subtly scooted up to her and wrapped both hands around her waist growling.
"That was a good dance. You can really stretch those legs.~" There was a tug at her tights. "Wanna see how fair I can stretch them?~"
"No. There's still people outside." She pushed his hand away. "I'm not risking you embarrassing me again."
"Come on, Yuu. It's been a week."
"And that's 'too long' for you? Why don't you just go bother Pierrot or Columbina then?"
"Please. This heat is killing me....I feel weak." He dramatically leaned on her more. "Light headed. I can barely perform. Only the touch of a real woman can help me.~"
She sighed. "Anyone ever tell you you're annoyingly persistent?"
He didn't get a chance to answer because the flap of the green and black tent was pushed open and in came a rather large figure. And now the three were standing there in silence. Harlequin froze. Yuu just....staring. And Doctor looking completely oblivious to the risky position the two were in. Eventually Doctor crossed his arms.
"The silent treatment? Really, Harlequin? You are acting like a child."
....Harlequin's right eyelid twitched before he inhaled sharply and turned his head around to Doctor with a strained smile. "Of course. Because CLEARLY I'm NOT in the middle of trying to get LAID." His sarcasm was so thick and obvious Pierrot could've cut it with one of his knives.
"Oh, good! It's bad to put these things off you know." Doctor walked right up to the two of them sounding happier. "Your health is of upmost importance and a yearly physical is nothing to be put off."
"Did you seriously-...." He facepalmed before inhaling again and dragging his fingers down his face. "Doctor. Give me an hour! No thirty minutes. I promise I can make this quick, I just need some privacy-"
Instead a large hand grabbed a hold of Harlequin and started dragging his resisting form towards his tent. "You just said you weren't doing anything. You won't be putting this off anymore."
"GOD DAMMIT, DOCTOR!!" He clawed at the ground attempting to get back to Yuu. "My dick feels like it's about to fall off here!!"
"Goodness! I told you to use protection when bringing sexual partners home! Now I'll have to give you a full groin exam to be sure you didn't contract an incurable disease-"
"I DON'T HAVE AN STD!!" He reached out for Yuu. One hand balled hard into the ground. "Wait for me here! We can pick up when I come back!"
A rough YANK pulled him through the flap in the tent, the curtains swaying a little with Harlequin's faded cursing as Yuu stood there slowly blinking and processing what had just happened. She was genuinely in shock just standing there for a long moment...
"....Pffft-" She leaned against the stage set clutching her stomach as she laughed so hard her sides hurt.
She decided to purposely avoid Harlequin after that. The man was clearly frustrated and annoyed after Doctor finally stopped holding him hostage and she couldn't face him right now without dissolving into laughter. However that wasn't the end of Doctor's oblivious reign. One time to avoid Harlequin, Yuu ducked into the kitchen, she was hungry anyways, only to find Pierrot though. He looked like he was just finishing up piping frosting on an admittedly pretty looking vanilla cake.
"Wow. That looks really nice, Pierrot. Reminds me of the cakes I used to make at the cafe."
He beamed. "Thank you. I made the frosting myself."
"Looks like you missed a little frosting right there." He paused when she reached out to wipe at his chin before tasting it. "Wow....This IS pretty good frosting. You know just the way to a girl's heart don't you.~"
Well that lead to her getting pushed against the table with two arms on either side of her with Pierrot breathing heavily above her. A growl leaving his mouth as he leaned closer.
"My lady.~ You still don't know what you do to me do you?" Long nails dug into the table top. "You make my heart pound with lust.~ My thoughts race with unholy desires.~ My blood rush to places that make me afraid.~" His breathing became heavy as he leaned forward. "It makes me want to eat you alive.~....Without actually eating you of course.~"
Yuu squealed as she was suddenly leaned over the table as Pierrot leaned over her. Growling as one kiss was given to her neck- Both looked up the flap in the tent opened up and Doctor just strolled on in humming. Both just watched dumbfounded as he hummed to himself walking over to the communal fridge and opened it before kneeling down with his huge height and beginning to rustle around in the fridge as the two stared.
He pulled out a carton of milk looking at it. ".......Pierrot, this milk is five days past the expiration date. Why didn't you throw it out?"
Pierrot opened his mouth, looked at Yuu, Yuu shrugged, before looking back at Doctor. "I...hadn't noticed?"
"This can cause someone to get sick!" He proceeded to throw the entire carton of milk in the trash can before returning to the fridge. "Come over here and help me. We're checking the labels on everything and making a list for Bil later tonight! Honestly, how can you be so careless?"
Pierrot again looked between the two...before whining and leaning away with a very obvious strain in his front pants as he turned to help Doctor. "Can we...do this later?" Doctor stared. "You know." His head nodded towards Yuu slowly getting up off the table. "After."
"You and Yuu can eat the cake after we go through the kitchen. Right now we're making sure there's no possibility of anyone getting sick from expired ingredients." He turned. "I'll check the fridge, you check the cabinets. Yuu can look inside the deep freezer...I'm pretty sure there's some of Jester's fruit gelato that's been in there since last October that needs to be thrown out."
And just like that Doctor obliviously turned what was a spicy moment between lovers into a day of 'clean-the-kitchen'. He literally pulled a notepad and pen from nowhere and made a detailed list of what they needed or HAD to be replaced for 'health reasons'. The ENTIRE time Pierrot was sporting a not so hidden boner. Even when Doctor dragged him out.
"My lady. Please...I desire you so-"
"Let's go show Bil our list. You may serenade Miss Yuu with poetry later. Yuu, please go dispose of the discarded food items in a safe manner."
Pierrot held out a hand as Doctor dragged him away same with Harlequin out of the tent with a frustrated kicked puppy look. Although she THOUGHT she heard him mumble a- "God dammit, Doctor." -under his breath as he was dragged out but she wasn't sure. Yuu watched them go before looking at the trashcan full of 'unsafe food'...then she laughed a little bit. Wasn't as funny as Harlequin getting dragged out for a examination of his own ass, but it was still very comical. However as the saying goes-
Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times-....It's fucking hilarious!
One time after a show Bil had come up to her after a performance with clear intentions gently taking a hold of her hand.
"You danced quite beautifully tonight, My Dear.~"
"My. Thank you, Bil. You always know exactly how to make a girl blush."
What followed was a kiss to her hand then her wrist then up her lower arm and just when he almost got to her elbow-
"Bil! There you are!" Doctor had suddenly seemingly manifested from nowhere walking towards them with a clipboard in hand. Ignoring or oblivious to the way Bil was still holding her arm leaned over it. "I was looking over the budget and it seemed you had forgotten to put some funds aside for the replacement supplies I asked for." He flipped a paper. "I had a specific conversation with you about this before we set up in this town. Did you forget?"
Ticket Taker stared at him but compared to Pierrot and Harlequin he was much calmer as he straightened up and slowly nodded. "Yes. I remember. I haven't counted up the money from tonight yet-"
"We must rectify this at once! Some of these medications I can't get from Jester's connections in this area unless we give them the money they want. I need the anesthesia! And the thread for stitches! I NEED the enzymatic cleaner to sterilize my equipment safely. What if someone suddenly needs emergency care?"
"I understand your concern. I will reconstruct the budget and give you what you need." He glanced at her. "...In three hours. I have some very important business to take care of first."
"There is no business more important than ensuring the safety of everyone's health at the circus. What could be more important?"
Bil slowly inhaled. Bil never did that before. His hold on her arm increasing slightly. "Yuu has a problem she needs me to help solve with some 'performance practice'."
Doctor looked at her. "You need help practicing?"
"Well, they do say practice makes perfect."
"Is Harlequin or Pierrot free right now?"
"Um...To tell you the truth, I think Harlequin is because he hasn't done any shows tonight," she answered honestly.
Doctor immediately turned back to Bil. "Then it's settled. She may practice with him." He held up the clipboard pointing at it. "We're only going to be here ten more days. I need these funds tonight!"
........Bil's hands slowly released her arm and stiffly nodded his head. "Very well. This can't be put off tonight despite how much my needs aren't being met-"
"I'm glad you see reason. Let's go get this sorted out at once." He smiled under his plague doctor mask sounding happy he was getting his money blissfully oblivious to Bil's light hints.
Doctor happily turned and started walking towards the blue tent as Bil inhaled again, rubbed his temples- "God dammit, Doctor. The one time I didn't need to worry about Pierrot and Harlequin fighting again." -and stiffly walked after him.
...Yuu chuckled when Bil was out of sight.
Honestly she thought after Bil that was going to be the last time. Three times the charm right? She had her fun, AND she didn't do anything wrong to get a kick out of it. So no one could blame her. But then Columbina and her happened to be talking. The other female monster scooted closer tapping her fingers together.
"Um...S-So I was wondering. I don't have to hang up any fliers tonight. Do you want to come back with me to my tent? I have this really pretty pink lingerie set that I think makes me look pretty and-"
"Columbina!" Both jumped and looked up as suddenly the taller monster was standing there before the two of them.
"HOLY SHIT!! Don't sneak up on people like that, Doc!," she yelled. "Scared the crap outta me!"
"Columbina, you promised to assist me in taking blood samples from the Fools today when you were done with your duties." He held up a shoe box of syringes, bandages, some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, and clean test tubes. "I've been waiting at your tent for four hours. I want to be sure none of them are infected with anything. Especially ones we plan to eat."
She blinked. "W-Was that today?"
He nodded. "I asked you in advance two days ago and you said you would be free TONIGHT. I swear what has gotten into everyone this month?" He reached up to pinch where Yuu assumed the bridge of his nose was as if he was the most annoyed person in the world. "Harlequin kept putting off his physical, Pierrot forgets to check the labels on the food in the kitchen, Bil forgets to budget anything for me, and now you forget your promise."
Columbina looked at him then at Yuu. "Well...Can't you get Jester to help you tonight? We were just discussing some very...'special occasion' outfits and-"
"You ladies may discuss fashion when we're finished like you promised. Jester has gone with Bil to arrange a boat to our next destination with an old friend of his. And before you suggest the others, Pierrot is too busy making dinner and Harlequin is reluctant to be around me since his prostate exam."
Yuu snorted but covered it with a cough when Doctor looked at her. "Sorry. My throat's been dry from talking to Columbina for a little while."
"Well be sure to drink plenty of water. If your throat is still sore, come see me when we're done for some cough drops. Come along, Columbina."
She opened her mouth as Doctor just turned and started to walk away without waiting for her to argue. She looked between his retreating form and Yuu who shrugged.
"You DID promise. You better go keep it."
She sighed and walked after the taller monster mumbling. "God dammit."
Alright. Strange. But she chalked it up to Columbina being forgetful due to horniness. Surely it wouldn't happen a fifth time right?
NOPE!!
He was minding her own business one second. The next someone purple was right behind her leaning their head over her shoulder.
"Hello, Jester," she greeted without looking up from the newspaper she was holding.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself today. I never took you for one to read the paper."
"Pierrot asked me to help him find coupons for groceries." The paper crinkled in her hands as she rose a brow. "...I found a coupon for two dollars off sugar he might like."
He hummed not taking his eyes on her. That piercing one she knew by now that she knew what he wanted. Jester gave this look to any of the other five whenever he was horny and decided he wanted THAT ONE tonight.
"I'm very sure he appreciates the helping hand. We all help one another around here with what we need most." He spoke leaning just a centimeter closer.
"Exactly. I haven't tried those magazines yet but I'm pretty sure there's one for fifty cents off butter in one of them. You can help if you want."
"Actually I was hoping you and I could do something to..help." His grin widened as she looked at him. "However it's not something I do in public spaces for voyers-"
"Yuu? Ah! There you are." Both looked over as Doctor just strolled on in. A magazine held up in his hands. "I'm finished with this dental magazine and heard from Pierrot you were gathering coupons for his next grocery one. There's one for a dollar off toothpaste in this one...Oh! Good evening, Jester."
"Hello, Doctor." Jester greeted politely back. "How are you?"
"Good, good. I was just dropping off this magazine for Yuu." He casually placed the Magazine on the table with the rest of them. "I wasn't expecting to see you here though. Are you helping Pierrot too?"
"Actually he was asking me for my help." She turned to him with a perfect poker face casually. "Is it important? I already promised Pierrot I'd help him with this."
"If you'd like I could help you," Doctor offered, "I'm not doing anything at the moment."
Jester glanced at him. "Oh no. No, no. Of course not. I need her help specifically. After all as they say.." Those purple eyes pierced her very skull. "It takes two to 'tango.'~"
"Wouldn't Harlequin or Pierrot be a better help then?" Doctor cocked his head confused. "I've never seen Miss Yuu tango before." He hummed a hand holding his chin in thought. "...Unless you've done it and I just so happened to not see it yet up until now."
Jester just stared at him.
He looked back to Yuu. "Do you know how to tango? I've only ever seen you dance ballet and some ballroom waltzes on occasion."
Don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh- "Nope. I only know ballet and what little ballroom dancing Harlequin taught me, and gymnastics of course."
"Is one of these three teaching you?"
"Not really."
Now he seemed REALLY confused. "Then...why would Jester ask to tango with you if you do not know that dance style? Unless he's planning on teaching you." He literally scratched his head. "It doesn't make sense unless he's planning on teaching you...No one seems to be making sense this month. Either way Harlequin or Pierrot would then make more suitable partners if you wish to practice the tango, Jester."
Jester just still stared. His left eyelid twitched once. Otherwise his smile and look hadn't changed. Yuu bit her tongue and gripped the newspaper harder.
DON'T LAUGH!! DO NOT LAUGH NOW!! HOLD IT IN! SHE COULD DO IT!!
"...Thank you, Doctor. I had already considered them."
"You should reconsider then!" He held up a finger. "Jumping right into any physical activity without proper practice first can cause great injuries. After all you wouldn't try doing track without first practicing jumping over high hurdles would you?"
"No."
"Have you had any lessons on the tango yet?" She shook her head no. "Then as both your doctor I must object to any tango before either you, Harlequin, or Pierrot teaches her properly first. This physical activity you both are about to jump into needs proper protection precautions."
D O N 'T L A U G H!!!!
She was trying her hardest not to!! Sucking in her lips and biting them. Her hands shook holding the newspaper trying to contain the roaring laughter wanting to spill out of her. She didn't know what was funnier. Doctor being oblivious to his own words and the situation or the dead stare Jester was just giving him. Yuu only knew if she laughed now Jester would certainly find some way to get back at her later she'd dread.
Eventually the purple people eater spoke again. "I appreciate your concern." His voice was calm but strained. "But I promise you I have everything under control."
"I still must object until you give her a few lessons. What if you both fall and you end up on top of her?"
"That is precisely the position I'm looking for."
"That's not good for either of you! Too many accidents can happen in that position! Something could break open or bend painfully the wrong way-"
WHOMP!!
She had to suddenly put her head down on the table and started making loud inhales and exhales. Not laughing but it was getting close.
"Now what on earth has gotten into, Yuu? This is a serious matter! Many people get injured during physical activities and that's why proper protection measures are given from a young age. It takes years to learn to properly move the right way and to build up the proper muscles to be able to perform properly!"
"God dammit, Doctor! I was referring to intercourse after this-"
"You can not perform sex after sustaining a serious physical injury if you two get injured during the tango, Jester! If you wish to get into a position of pain like you mentioned, then PLEASE go with someone more experienced for your BDSM! Injuring someone while dancing might be alluring in some circumstances but someone who's never performed the specific dance you want to do is dangerous!"
She was just ONE more sentence away from laughing!! Her body was shaking so badly against the table as she gasped for air like a fish out of water!
".......Excuse me. I shall go perform my duties and think long about our talk."
"I am very glad you take my advice seriously unlike Harlequin."
"E-Excuse me." She slowly stood up, abruptly just grabbing all the newspapers and magazines. "I-I'm going to go to m-my room and finish cutting them out there in peace."
She left without another word. Yuu did NOT cut the coupons. She grabbed a pillow, shoved her face into it, and laughed hard. She couldn't stop laughing on and off for at least a good hour maybe two rotating between gasping for breath and laughing so hard her sides literally started cramping up and hurting.
How oblivious could one person be?
That SHOULD have been the end of it surely. However she wasn't expecting the next day when Jester decided to hold a small meeting, not anything serious. Just explaining where they would be going next and how they would be getting there, how long it'd take, and where he planned to set everything up.
"Any questions?"
.....Pierrot raised a hand-
"Yes, Pierrot. We'll purchase a new microwave to replace the one Harlequin wrecked when we get there." Both gave Harlequin looks.
"The TV dinner said to heat for five minutes. How was I supposed to know you weren't supposed to leave the plastic layer on? Isn't that supposed to keep it fresh?"
Jester sighed. "Tonight's our last night running a show. We shut everything down and start packing tomorrow morning."
That should've been the end of it. Just ending with them going on their way and getting ready for ALL the work ahead tomorrow. Except when Doctor walked up to her.
"Yuu."
She looked up at the tallest monster. "Yeah, Doc?"
"Would you wish to have sexual intercourse with me tonight?"
And ALL at once five other monsters stopped to stare at the two of them in silence.
She had to hold back laughter SO HARD but she managed to keep the perfect poker face as she pretended to think. Humming and rubbing her chin in fake thought before shrugging. "Sure. Why not? I'm not busy tonight."
He seemed happy. "Excellent! I'll just-"
SLAM!!
Harlequin slammed on his knees and. Just. SHRIEKED!! Not a normal scream. The most 'I am being brutally tortured to death' frustrated shriek she'd ever heard as he just turned to the ceiling of the tent and let it loose. It echoed out everywhere as he sat on his knees.
Thump, thump, thump-
CRACK!!
Yuu turned her head hearing someone sounding like they were stomping over and over and something wooden breaking. Only to find Columbina hitting her head over and over on the pole holding up Jester's tent. Jester was just standing next to her. His grin strained so much she could literally see his fangs gritted, and his eyelid twitching every few seconds. She found the source of the cracking noise too. The clipboard Jester had been holding was absolutely crushed in between his palms and a few pieces at his feet.
HICCUP!!
She turned to look back towards the Harlequin. Harlequin was now rocking back and forth gritting his teeth and sporting a physical boner. "It's been a month...Can't take any more!"
Right next to him Pierrot was literally on the ground in the fetal position curled in on himself full on ugly sobbing. Not crying. SOBBING. As if all six of them had sudden been murdered in the most brutal way in front of him. He was crying fat tears as he sobbed into Harlequin's leg.
POP!!
A loud POP and the sound of liquid being poured made her look behind the two men on the ground loosing their minds at the desk. Behind them Ticket Taker was calmly pouring a wine into a wine glass until it was over flowing, before pressing his lips to it, and just straight up CHUGGING the wine like it was nothing. Once it was empty he slammed it to the desk, a crack ran down the side of the crystal wine glass as Bil just started filling it up a second time.
Harlequin and Pierrot still whimpered and sobbed on the ground. Columbina kept hitting her head. Bil was already chugging a second cup of wine. And Jester's other eye had joined the twitching as Yuu blinked at them. Alright. Maybe teasing monsters in heat wasn't a good idea after all.
Doctor only reached a hand up to scratch his head in confusion. "Now what's gotten into them?"
Short Story "Gift from a God: Getting Ready" - School Ghost Stories
This short story is connected to the Limited Edition drama CD, "Gift from a God." It is recommended to read this after finishing the drama CD, and contains spoilers from the main game. This is official content from the LE art book.
For this particular short story, I think just finishing up the School Ghost Stories Common Route should be enough.
To celebrate the heroine's birthday, Kureha and Hibiki went searching for one of the school's Seven Wonders, the "Wish-Granting Book."
Kureha:
Hmm. It was easy to find last time, but in this world, it's not so straightforward... Hibiki, any luck?
Hibiki:
I can't find it. It's blood-red and black, right?
Kureha:
Yeah, that's how it looked when we found it. It's a creepy book with nothing written on the cover.
Hibiki:
Yikes, that does sound creepy! But the idea of it granting wishes sounds pretty wonderful. Have you decided what you're going to wish for?
Kureha:
About that... You mentioned wanting to "talk to her directly", right? That gave me an idea... I was thinking of wishing she could see us, even if just for a little while.
Hibiki:
Wow, that's a really nice wish! But why not just make it forever instead of a little while?
Kureha:
Heh, I understand the sentiment... But I believe that's something only she can wish for.
Hibiki:
What do you mean?
Kureha:
We're dead, after all. We probably shouldn't interfere too much with her life unless she wants to... At least, that's how I feel about it.
Hibiki:
It's sad, but you're right. It'd be hard for us to make her really happy... Haaah... But imagining her with someone else... It makes me so jealous I can't stand it. It's infuriating!
Kureha:
Heh. You're the jealous type, huh? I'd probably just end up crying.
Hibiki:
Oh? I wouldn't expect you to be so emotional, Kureha. I never really pictured you getting jealous.
Kureha:
Haha... I wish I could be more detached, but the truth is, I'm a man who's bad at giving up. rather pathetic, don't you think?
Hibiki:
Hehe, I feel like I know you a bit better now! Maybe I'm a bit like you, Kureha. Well... The way we act when we're jealous is pretty different.
Kureha:
Yes, and we both ended up falling for the same girl.
Hibiki:
Haha, right. I wish that wasn't the case.
Kureha:
Haha! We agree there.
Hibiki:
Well, it's all thanks to her that you and I could become friends like this. Helping her return to her world together sparked out friendship! Ah, um... Maybe calling it a friendship is too much...
Kureha:
Not at all. I feel the same way. It's a bond born from her, and I cherish it.
Hibiki:
Y-Yeah! Me too... I feel the same way. Even though we're rivals in love, I still want to get along! Oh, right. If there are any mortals approaching her, shall we cooperate and haunt them together?
Kureha:
That's a rather dangerous line of thinking...
Hibiki:
I don't want her to start liking you, Kureha, but that wouldn't nearly be as bad as some other guy... I couldn't forgive that. So let's make sure to erase-
Kureha:
H-Hey! I think the book is over there!
Hibiki:
Huh? Wow, really?! You sensed the presence of the red book?
Kureha:
Oh, well, um... It's just a feeling I had-
[A sudden noise]
Hibiki:
Ah! W-What was that?!
Kureha:
This is... This is the red book! The one that grants wishes!
Hibiki:
Huh? B-But how?! There wasn't a red book here a second ago! It just suddenly popped out of the bookshelf...
Kureha:
And if a ghost like me can pick it up... It must be spiritual in nature!
Hibiki:
Please show me. Wait... Huh? There's nothing written inside!
Kureha:
No, the letters are appearing. Uh... "I'll grant your wish. In return, stop that dangerous little brat, or else that girl will be sad."
Hibiki:
Hm? Dangerous brat? Who could that be? Was there someone dangerous nearby?
Kureha:
We... We can talk about that later...
Hibiki:
Oh, so you know who it is? Good. Please tell me later. We'll be sure to haunt whoever it is!
Kureha:
Ah... R-Right. Now what should our wish be?
Hibiki:
Oh, that's right. Hehe, I've been really looking forward to this! I want to look into her eyes, have a chat, and share a laugh with her as soon as possible!
Kureha:
Yes, let's make that happen. Now, let's write our wish in the book.
Pairing: Elias Pratt x F!Reader (tbh I don’t even use any refer or pronoun here, just be whoever you want to be).
Tags: Manipulative/Red Flag Elias Pratt, Emotional Power Imbalance, Heated Kissing, Smoking.
Warning: Non-consensual kiss!!! And you kinda slap him.
If it’s not your thing, CLICK BACK or SCROLL AWAY.
Masterlist
Can’t stop thinking about Elias and you with some kind of rivals-to-lovers dynamic, iykyk. This event happened before Dionysia got deserted, approximately a year before everything went down. You were a third-year like Elias and a vice-captain at the time. You aimed to be Captain, but Elias had already been nominated for the position.
Saying you weren’t jealous would be a lie. He always had that laid-back attitude that made you doubt he’d be able to handle the role.
Like, he has such a punchable face with that smug smirk always plastered on it. But also such kissable lips. There’s a reason he’s the visual of the show, right?
Yeah, right. Though there are a lot of things you don’t like about Elias. For example, he always disappears when you need to exchange work with him, even when he’s the Captain. Where the hell is he?? And you’re stuck here with a pile of work while he wanders off somewhere you’ll never know. Every time you ask him or nag him about it, he just laughs, makes excuses, and shrugs like nothing happened. And that drives you insane. Is there ever a moment when he’s serious?
Yes. Yes, there is, especially on missions. He’s always very serious then. He always makes a plan and has a backup plan ready. His brain works far too quickly for you to comprehend sometimes, and he always knows what to do even in the tightest spots. He’s very tactical and meticulous with most things, so maybe his laid-back attitude is just to keep people from depending on him too much, considering what he’s capable of.
Now, let’s talk about another thing you hate about him.
He smokes. Like, a lot.
You nag him all the time to go somewhere else because he keeps smoking in the tent. It’s a fire hazard, and nobody wants that to happen. And most people don’t want the space to reek of tangy smoke either, so you always push him outside whenever he lights up.
You wonder if he has some kind of addiction because he seems unable to hold back the craving every time. So at some point, you stop nagging him. But for some reason, he starts being obedient and no longer smokes in the tent after you stop.
At first, he’d argue with you, saying something like Shion has a whole fire-breathing performance in the tent and everywhere else, so why can’t he have a little smoke?
Well… Shion is a different case. You can’t tell him what to do. You can’t control his actions. Even Elias can’t tell him what to do, so how would you be capable of that? Though Mio can talk some sense into him, even though he’s still a first-year, he’s far too reliable in many things.
⬪⬪⬪⬪⬪
So one night after the show, you’re outside the tent getting some fresh air when Elias pops out of nowhere and almost jump-scares you. He’s always like that, disappearing and reappearing out of nowhere. He’s nowhere to be seen when you need him, but always everywhere when he finds a chance to annoy you.
You ignore him as he stands beside you and flicks his cigarette packet open from his pocket. You notice he didn’t bring his lighter.
“Don’t smoke in my space.”
You try to chase him away. “I spotted this place first.”
He just chuckles as he pulls out a stick from the packet.
“I’m quitting. This isn’t a cigarette,” he says, showing you the packet.
It’s just a bunch of small lollipops. Your eyes almost pop out as you stare at him in disbelief.
“What? Is it that hard to believe I’d quit smoking?”
You raise your eyebrows at his question.
“For every ten things you say, I doubt three and don’t believe the rest,” you answer, unamused.
He chuckles again.
“Oh, that hurts. You’ve shattered my pride.”
You change the subject.
“So, what are you going to do about the ‘kids’?”
You’re both third-years now, which means next year you’ll be on internship. It’s time to pass the buckle to someone else. In the meantime, you have to train them and teach them what to do.
Elias stays quiet for a moment, seeming deep in thought. He’s usually quiet, but never this intensely silent. You wait for his answer.
“What about you?” he asks instead.
“Me? I already know who would be perfect to handle things here when I’m gone,” you answer proudly.
There’s a certain pink-haired boy you’ve already been guiding and teaching about vice-captain duties. There’s nothing for you to worry about either way.
You know Elias definitely has someone in mind already. He just doesn’t tend to share much of what’s on his mind.
That’s another thing you don’t like about him.
He rarely speaks the truth. He lies a lot and hides even more. Yes, you understand he has the right to keep certain things to himself, but it makes you feel disregarded, looked down on, in some way.
Aren’t you his partner? Aren’t you reliable enough as a vice-captain? Is that why he hides almost everything from you?
You stay quiet, not asking any further questions. You just let out a heavy sigh.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.”
You want to say you trust his judgment in choosing the next captain, but at the same time, you don’t. Because you feel like he hasn’t convinced you enough yet.
Elias is someone who always keeps everything to himself.
You wonder if he’s going to choose Haru or Jo as the next captain.
⬪⬪⬪⬪⬪
Your gaze peeked at him from the corner of your eyes as you tried to read something on his face, but he looked indifferent. Though the dark circles under his eyes were so visible, you wondered what had kept him from sleeping for so long to form those kinds of dark bags. It wasn’t rare to see Elias not getting enough sleep; he always looked tired for some reason. And when he smoked, the ribbon of greyish smoke flickering in the air always seemed to create a veil draped over the two of you, like you belonged to completely different worlds, like it was there to keep you away from him.
And the cigarette always hovered on his lip when he smoked. Sometimes he’d drop it to the corner as he spoke to you. Did you mention he has such kissable lips but such a punchable smirk?
Yeah, you want to strangle him and kiss him at the same time every time you see him smoke. Because he leaves ashes everywhere and litters his cigarette butts everywhere too. Such a hassle for others to clean. But at the same time, there is always some sense of loneliness whenever you see him standing there, eyes half-lidded, leaning against the wall to smoke quietly, as if it’s the only moment he can meet his peace of mind. Like smoking is the only time he allows himself to breathe.
And when he lifts his gaze slightly to meet yours, that gray, misty veil of smoke between you feels distorted. It blurs your sight of him, blurs his face from your vision, blurs the world between you two. But it also feels like the world narrows down to just him.
You see him twist the wrapper off the lollipop in his hand before popping it into his mouth.
And the words slip from your lips before you can think.
“Does smoking taste that good?”
Even you’re caught off guard by your own question.
And his eyes glimmering slightly under the faint moonlight above your head as he slowly moves the shiny ruby-red lollipop away from his lips, creating a glistening thin layer over his soft skin.
“You’re curious?”
Of course he answers with another question.
He’s always like that, never answering you directly. Turn things back on you. Makes you feel like you’re the one exposed.
That’s also what you hate about him, always playing with your mind as you can’t understand why you can’t understand him. You can’t read him. You don’t know what he’s thinking most of the time. Three years of knowing him, and you still feel like he’s just a mist, an illusion by your side.
You did try to get to know him better at first, but he seemed to think the distance between you two was perfectly balanced. He never crossed that line, nor did he ever let you cross it. So you didn’t dare to.
“No. You just seem addicted to them. That’s why I asked.”
You answer, unamused by how he never gives you the answer you want to know. You lose all interest in the conversation with him, so you stop talking and pull out your phone.
And sensing that you’re ignoring him might have tingled something in him, because you can feel him turn slightly to your side and casually call your name.
“What?” You lift your head up from your phone as you also turn your face his way slightly, to see what he has to say.
But to your surprise, he suddenly leans down closer to you. It catches you off guard, and your body doesn’t react in time as his lips immediately meet yours.
Your eyes widen as your phone slips from your hand and falls right to the ground under your feet.
By the time you react, lifting your hands to push him away, his large hand reaches behind your head as he keeps you in place. You can feel his lips on you. Yeah, it was soft, just like how you had imagined it.
“Stop! Elias-”
When you speak up, trying to push him away, you create an opportunity for his tongue to slide right between your parted lips. It is wet and hot as it meets yours. Your eyebrows frown as you taste the bitterness on the tip of his tongue. It’s not pleasant at all because you don’t like bitter tastes. But at the same time, you can taste some tang of sweetness too.
It creates such a contradiction that you almost can’t think. Your mind fogs up a bit as you still can’t comprehend what is happening, making Elias able to take the lead as he continues to kiss you.
His tongue invades your mouth, meeting and intertwining with yours, as if he wants to savor every taste of you. You find it suffocating, hard to breathe, as you stumble back slightly, but his arm wraps around you, pulling you closer to him.
The small lollipop he had earlier falls to the ground, now sadly coated in dirt, its ruby red surface shimmering faintly under the moonlight.
And even when Elias has leaned down, tilting his face at the right angle to kiss you better, the back of your neck still hurts from bending up to accept his kiss. He gives you no time to fight back against him, as if he has wanted to do it long ago, far too long. He kisses you like a starved man. It feels like he’s been holding this back, for weeks, months, maybe years. Like this is something he decided long ago.
Your hands push against his chest as he seems unfazed by your actions, just pulling you even closer into his kiss, until he feels like you’re unable to breathe anymore. Only then does he pull away slightly. His face is still close to yours, his tongue slipping back into his mouth as you finally are able to see his eyes so close to you.
His pupils were dilated and seemed blurry, as if he hadn't gotten enough of what he had just tasted. You were stunned for only a moment before you shoved him away harshly, and before you could think, your body already moved first as you lifted your hand and slapped him hard across his face.
It left your palm stinging more than his cheek, you supposed, but you threw that slap with all your might as, slowly, the red mark it formed on his pale skin appeared and his face turned slightly to the side. You were even able to scratch the corner of his lip because of your nail. You stood there, a bit out of breath. You didn't know if your body was shaking because of anger or any other reason.
You felt bad right after you slapped him that hard, but only for a brief second, because you immediately snapped back. Why the hell couldn't you slap him? He deserved that shit.
Looking at his face, still with that unfazed look, he didn't seem to mind your slap at all. If anything, it just made whatever the hell was going on in his mind grow crazier, as you saw the corner of his lip curve up. The reddened scratch just seemed to open wider with his smile.
You quickly wiped your lip with the back of your hand as if you had just touched something so disgusting.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" you asked furiously as you looked at him in panic and confusion.
He flicked his tongue out, dragging it across his lip slightly as if he were savoring whatever taste was left there, and with the same laid-back attitude and that smirk, he answered you.
"Isn't everybody here having something wrong going on?" He stood tall, looming over you a bit as he leaned down slightly so his eyes could meet yours better. "That's why we're the freaks."
"Freak doesn't mean you kiss someone without their permission, asshole.”
You grunted the words out as his attitude just made you want to slap him again. The sound of your palm coming into contact with his face seemed to still echo in the air around you as you glanced at him, displaying your anger and disapproval clearly, even when he clearly didn't care.
"Isn't that what you always have in your mind?”
He suddenly asked again, as his flow of thought wasn't something you could keep up with. As if you standing in front of him didn't freak out, he just acted like it was a normal, casual conversation, as if he hadn't just kissed you out of nowhere a moment ago.
"What are you on about?" And that pissed you off even more, but before you could say anything else, he suddenly stepped closer, and you instinctively backed away from him as your hands clasped over your mouth.
He let out a laugh, amusement and mockery lacing together.
"Your eyes can't deceive others," he emphasized as you kept your distance from him.
Afraid he might do something out of impulsiveness again.
"You want to know how a cigarette tastes, or..." He paused for a minute too long before continuing his words. "How it tastes on my lip?”
You could feel heat creeping up all over your face, unsure if it was anger or embarrassment that boiled inside you as you argued back.
"That doesn't justify your action-"
But he cut through your words before you could continue.
"So you admit that you want to kiss me?"
Question after question, it drove you insane with how talking to him felt like trying to solve a riddle that had no answer.
You found it meaningless trying to argue with him. Normally, when his attitude made you tired and exhausted, you'd just walk away from him. But now, this kind of thing was serious, and you didn't want to walk away, because maybe because of your giving-in attitude, it made him more steamrolling in his actions and behavior.
And because he never really listened to you, you found no reason to constantly tell him anything anymore.
"So what if I did?" you spoke up once again. "I don't go around jumping on you, asshole."
You rarely used any vulgar words, but Elias really knew how to get on your nerves and draw out that side of you.
He just chuckled slightly, the sound rumbling in his chest then echoing in the space around the two of you, as your words didn't seem to affect him.
"That's why I like you," his voice low as he continued. "You are honest, which is something... I'm not exactly possessed of.”
You sighed in the back of your head as you looked at him.
"Clearly, you don't even have any decency either."
And that was the last conversation you had with him ever since that night.
⬪⬪⬪⬪⬪
Because on the very next day, a lot of things happened, and as a result, your House was deserted. And even though you weren’t affected by that, since by that time you were already a 4th year, Elias wasn’t so lucky. He was put on probation for his failure in his captain duties, for how he overlooked the House. Even when you and other students tried to defend him, the school had already finalized their decision. And what shocked you the most was that Professor Hyde confirmed Elias had taken the blame on himself and taken full responsibility for what had happened.
But strangely enough, you weren’t affected by any of that, as if you had been kept in the dark on purpose so you wouldn’t get tangled in the mess.
So when you were at your internship in the special task force and heard that soon the others would be able to return to campus, you doubted that Dionysia would be reopened, because Darkwick never gives something out without getting something back. You already doubted at that point that they would have to take on some mission to be able to gain what they wanted.
But a few students seemed too excited when they heard there was a chance to reopen it. So you took some time off to revisit your school.
Darkwick has always been strict about who can come in and who can get off the island, but the 4th years are technically still students of Darkwick. You and the others are still allowed to come back occasionally, though you have to get R&R approved by both Darkwick and the force where you are interning.
And monthly, 4th years have to send their internship reports to the school anyway, so you took your time to send the report as you visited your school too.
Out of habit, your feet just wandered toward the right Dionysia dorm, which is now deserted. Everything looks run-down because of the neglect. This place falls apart so easily without anyone around to take care of or maintain it. You drag your feet inside as you look around at the desolated buildings and tents. Even the Ferris wheel looks hysterical in your eyes because you doubt whether it can still work.
You remember Elias would occasionally ride it. You remember that well because it was one of the many rare memories he shared with you, that he had a routine, a habit. He liked to ride it to check whether it functioned just fine, but in reality, he just liked to stay inside one of the compartments, looking down on the island from above as he dragged a long smoke from his cigarette.
Maybe it was one of his sanctuaries, a hideout he felt like going to whenever he felt overwhelmed or wanted to avoid something. You’re unsure. But you do remember that after his sharing, you had taken note of more places you could find him when he slacked off on his work again.
You look at the Ferris wheel as you hesitantly, slowly approach the control panel in a small cabin right under it. Pushing the door open, you expect the place to be covered in dust like every other place. But it is surprisingly clean, and you suspect whether someone has occasionally cleaned this place. Was it Haru? Was it Elias? You don’t know.
You doubt it can even work without the main electricity to operate the whole place. There is no use in cleaning this place either way.
But still, you reach your hand to flip the switch on the side. And surprisingly, all the lights in the cabin turn on, with a small melody flowing into your ears. It is supposed to be the music they sometimes play in the compartments of the Ferris wheel, but it seems like the speaker has been wrecked a bit, as the sound comes out uneven and eerie, making the cheerful melody turn into something horrifying and petrifying.
You walk out of the cabin as you look up to see all the lights on the Ferris wheel lit up, which is very odd. You didn’t know this could still run. You approach the Ferris wheel as you step up on the stairs, looking at each compartment slowly sliding up as you wonder if you can even ride them, because there needs to be someone controlling the panel for you to ride the wheel.
But as you’re lost in your thoughts, a compartment suddenly stops in front of you as its door slides open. You’re dumbfounded, as no one is controlling the panel right now. You turn slightly to see a familiar figure standing right there. His dark ash-brown hair seems to lighten at the tips as the light casts over his face. He still has that usual smug expression. Even when his smile is soft and faint, it’s still as punchable as always.
“Didn’t know we would have a visitor,” he makes a small comment as he approaches you, and you notice a small remote in his hand.
That might be why he can control the compartment without touching the panel.
“Didn’t know we would have a cleaner here,” you say as both you and he stare at his janitor outfit.
He lets out a small laugh as he answers, “I’m still on duty. Just taking a small break.”
You don’t really pay attention to what he says as your eyes once again dart around the place.
“Did you clean the cabin?” you ask him, and he also looks around a bit before speaking up.
“I try to keep some places tidy as much as I can,” he answers, honestly this time, and it surprises you a bit.
“Shame that one person can’t handle all those tasks,” you speak.
He chuckles a bit bitterly as he tilts his head slightly once he’s in front of you.
“Want to have a ride?”
He asks, and you don’t say no. You both get on and settle down in your seats opposite each other as your gaze darts outside the window.
He really meant it when he said he tries to keep things clean as much as he can, because the glass windows are still clear and seem well maintained, as you can still see outside clearly.
Once the door slides closed, you feel the compartment shift slightly as it slowly moves up.
⬪⬪⬪⬪⬪
“How’s your internship going?” Elias’s question drags your attention back to him as your eyes once again fall onto his slate-blue ones.
“It’s going well.” You only answer simply, without any further elaboration.
Elias senses the coldness in your tone as he makes a small comment. “I can tell. That uniform looks good on you.”
Your gaze shifts down slightly to your outfit, as you were at work before rushing to Darkwick, so you didn’t get a chance to change, and you still have your intern ID on.
“Yeah, it does suit me better than Darkwick’s,” you answer him honestly, as you find no reason to like that uniform.
You just wonder what he is exactly thinking, because he should also have been an intern by now, not stuck in these nostalgic and broken memories.
But maybe, just maybe, the reason he chose to stay and take responsibility was because he believed that one day he would be able to bring Dionysia back onto the map, along with its shows, the entertainment, the applause, and the cheerful smiles they used to gain from their audiences.
He only lets out a small laugh at your words, as he doesn’t seem to have any further thoughts. He’s still the same unreadable captain you have known, distant with a laid-back attitude, always seeming to slack off but very serious in his missions. You wonder if he has changed in some way and how he has been doing. But wanting to know doesn’t equal wanting to ask, because what should you say?
You feel like whatever answer he gives you, you won’t be satisfied at all. Whether he feels miserable or not, it won’t make you feel any better.
“Relax your eyebrows a bit. Too many frowns will give you wrinkles.”
His comment drags you back from your thoughts as your gaze fixes on him again.
The compartment slowly moves higher as you look out of the window again, seeing Darkwick more clearly, seeing the campus more vividly. Looking down from here just makes you realize how lonely and cast-off Dionysia looks. Let alone the other Houses, who knows whether they will have a chance to reopen.
You lean against the glass a bit, which makes Elias let out a small reminder.
“Don’t get too close to the glass.”
You only give him a small glance from the corner of your eyes before continuing to view the scenery outside. When the compartment finally arrives at the top, you realize how long it has been since you last rode a Ferris wheel and how beautiful the world can seem from up here. Ever since you started your internship, you have always been busy with tasks and work and cases. You barely have time for yourself, let alone really care about other things. So entertainment, which used to be part of your life, suddenly fades into the background like some meaningless memory you put at the back of your head. It hasn’t been that long, but how come it feels like an eternity has spun past your eyes without you even knowing?
You can feel Elias’s gaze on the side of your face, but you just ignore his existence for now. But it’s not easy when you two are stuck in the same space at who-knows-how-many meters high this is.
But suddenly, the wheel stops as it shakes a bit. You back away from the glass and lean into your seat.
“What’s going on?” you ask, a bit panicked and nervous.
Elias also looks around before shrugging slightly. “Oh, sometimes it does that. Mio isn’t around to maintain it, so there’s only so much I can do.” He speaks so casually, as if being stuck at this height doesn’t affect or bother him at all.
His unserious and unconcerned tone makes you want to punch him, as suddenly he looks just like the same old Elias to you.
He seems very familiar with the situation, which makes you wonder whether this has happened to him often enough that he can just stay relaxed like that.
“It’ll start working again after a couple of minutes,” he adds, as if to ease your concern.
You stress out a bit as you look at him. “Really?”
“Maybe a couple of hours sometimes,” he answers with a hopeless smile.
You almost slap him for real as his lips curve up so punchably.
“You’ve gotta be kidding.”
He shakes his head at your words.
“It works when it wants. I can’t really control that.”
And then you see his hand slide into the front pocket of his uniform as he flicks out a cigarette packet again.
“I thought you quit,” you ask without thinking.
Fuck. Because most of the time you’d think carefully about what’s on your mind before speaking out loud, but for some reason, whenever you’re around him, things just slip out.
And Elias, he just smiles at you as he shakes his head.
“Old habits die hard.”
His fingers take out a small stick as he hovers it over his lips. His other hand takes out a lighter from his pocket as he turns the flame on, holding it close to the butt of the cigarette resting on his lips.
He takes a small drag of smoke once again. And when he breathes out, you see that familiar grey veil between the two of you once more. In this tiny space, it seems even more visible. Even when you’re not that far away from him, the smoky veil still makes you feel like he isn’t really there. Like it’s all just your imagination. A wall. A layer that separates and divides your worlds completely.
And you hate that. You hate smoking. You hate the scent of it, how that thing travels into people’s lungs and could harm everybody who consumes it, directly or indirectly. And in your eyes, those who smoke in public without concern for other people are just nasty.
As far as you know, Elias doesn’t tend to smoke around other students, especially those who don’t smoke. But with you, he just seems not to care whether you like it or not. And maybe because you two have worked together for so long, you kind of get used to it, to the tang of smoke on the edge of his sleeve. Or when he walks by you or stands by your side, you can smell it clearly. Like it’s his way of telling you, showing you, that he’s present by your side.
And at some point, when you were on your internship, you kind of missed the scent. Because without it, it reminded you that Elias wasn’t your partner or captain anymore. He was just… Elias. A man who has zero connection to you if it’s not because you both enrolled at Darkwick and happened to be housemates. If not, he wouldn’t even look your way for a single second.
So when you became an intern, you picked up a habit of smoking or more like buying cigarettes and burning them without really smoking them. Because it’s the same brand that Elias smokes. And the scent tricks you into believing that he’s still present somewhere in your life. At least that’s how you tried to survive each day, knowing he’s not by your side. Nor will you ever work with him again. So at some point, you get used to that and accept that you might not ever meet him again.
But ever since the last conversation you had with him, you wonder if he kissed you out of impulsiveness, or if it was because he knew what was going to happen next, that maybe he wouldn’t be able to meet you again. Then why did he choose such an action, to make you disdain him in some way? Would that make his life easier? Would that make him feel better because he didn’t tell you anything? You don’t know.
Because you wouldn’t dare to ask either way. Because deep down, you don’t want to know the answer. Because maybe that kiss was meaningless to him. But to you, it was different. Because you don’t do meaningless things.
But there is one thing you know from that night: Elias didn’t build that grey wall between the two of you. And if he did, he had already crossed it by kissing you. And he didn’t seem to regret it. You wonder if he was being brave, gathering enough courage to close the gap between you. And whether he wanted you to do the same.
But you have always felt like you lost to Elias in some way, schoolwork, duty, friends, housemates, classmates, reputation. Like everything you achieved was always one point behind him.
And now, even when it comes to feelings.
How can you accept that, always losing to him? Even when it’s about your own emotions, and even when he seems more unserious than you, and when he’s rarely honest, he somehow still wins you over by accepting what he deeply holds inside himself.
And yet you feel like a child for always being jealous of him. You wonder how he can form such a secure and collected aura for himself. And why, even when you try so hard, it still feels like you’re a child trying to copy an adult.
You lift your head to look at him, but the smoke covers half of his face, and you can barely see anything. You don’t know what kind of expression he has or how he feels about being stuck here with you.
But that familiar scent of smoke lacing through the space somehow makes your heart beat harder and louder. Are you panicking? Nervous? Terrified? Or all at once? You don’t know anymore.
And before you can think, you stand up from your seat and walk over to him.
“Give me some,” you say to him, your eyes falling on the cigarette resting between his lips.
He takes the cigarette between his fingers slightly as he looks up at you, seeing how you’re standing in front of him. “You smoke now?” He flicks his packet, which is now empty, and lifts his head with a smile. “Sorry, that was my last-”
But before he can finish his sentence, you grab the collar of his jumpsuit and lean down, pulling him into a kiss. Your lips press against his as he seems stunned by your action, gripping the packet in his hand so tightly his knuckles turn white at what you did.
It’s only a brief, small kiss before you pull away slightly.
You’re not bold enough to kiss him any differently because, after all, you’re not Elias. But you don’t regret doing that at all. You can feel the tips of your ears and your cheeks heating up as you try to back away and return to your seat but Elias is quicker.
His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you back. You stumble and fall onto his lap, panicking as your eyes widen at his action. Your hands immediately shove against his shoulders, afraid you might be too close to him.
“Was that because you wanted to smoke?” he asks suddenly, his stale blue eyes gazing up at your face.
His voice is lower and deeper now, laced with something you can’t quite name. His arms wrap firmly around you as he pulls you closer, almost as if he wants to carve you into him.
“…No,” you answer slowly, and he lets out a small smile.
But slowly it grows deeper until it turns into a low, dark chuckle. His head leans against you, and you can feel his body shake, his chest rumbling as he laughs, his voice echoing louder in the quiet space you two share.
“This is why I like you.” His hand reaches up gently, moving a strand of hair away from your face.
And only now do you realize he must have dropped his cigarette when you suddenly kissed him out of nowhere.
The tips of his fingers still carry the tang of nicotine as you look at him.
Yes, you didn’t kiss him because you wanted to taste the smoke. You kissed him because you wanted to break the smoke, that thin layer of illusion, so fragile and intangible, that always seemed to keep distance between you, separating you from him. It annoyed you in so many ways. You just wanted to tear it down and see him clearly.
His hand then caresses the side of your face softly, as if you’re some delicate doll. Then slowly it moves down to the side of your neck, making you shiver. His hand slides to the back of your neck as he pulls you in once again, tilting his head so his lips can meet yours at a better angle.
He kisses you again. This time it’s different, because you finally reciprocate. You hold his face in your hands gently as you lean closer, deepening the kiss. The air in the compartment grows heavier and hotter. Sometimes you can even hear the soft, embarrassed sound of your lips meeting as his tongue parts your lips to enter your mouth once again, intertwining with yours. Even though you don’t have as much experience as him, you still try to take the lead, to regain whatever small control you think you have, only to give up again when he seems to know exactly how to kiss you to melt your heart.
When he finally pulls away, you can see the thin silver thread between your lips. His tongue drags softly over your lower lip, as if tasting what remains.
His arm is still around you as your hands rest on his shoulders. You can see the pink hue on his cheeks, his hair slightly disheveled, his lips wet and a bit reddened, inviting more as you bite his bottom lip softly.
He lets out a small chuckle before kissing you once again, as if your action triggers something in him, his grip growing a bit tighter.
“W-wait-” You can barely breathe as his kiss grows more dangerous, greedier with each passing second.
“I have waited enough,” he answers between kisses as he gazes up at you. “I’ve been patient all this time. Don’t you think I deserve some reward?”
You can feel your whole face burning at his shameless request, but you can’t say anything when his lips crash onto yours once again.
You shift slightly, trying to move away from his kiss, and your hand accidentally presses on something hard over the pocket on his chest. Suddenly you hear a loud creak as the wheel starts running again. You look outside the window in surprise before your gaze falls back on Elias, who is clearly looking smugly guilty.
You pull whatever is in his pocket out and see the remote he had earlier when you both got on the wheel.
“Did you have this all the time? And you can use it?” you ask him.
And he just smiles as he answers,
“Ah, I must have forgotten that.”
“Don’t lie. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?!”
Now you really feel embarrassed. In the end, Elias is still able to wrap you around his finger. You try to move away from him, but he wraps his arms around you once again, keeping you against him.
“Elias!”
He doesn’t budge at all as he buries his face into your shoulder, taking in your scent as he nuzzles slightly.
“Let me stay like this for a moment. I won’t be able to see you once you leave.”
His voice is suddenly laced with such sadness and loneliness that you don’t know whether he’s being honest or not. But you have never seen Elias like this before, and you don’t know how to react. All you can do is sit still and let him hug you, your warmth lacing together as his strands of hair tickle your skin softly.
After a moment of silence, right when the compartment almost reaches the bottom.
“I’ll visit more often from now on.”
His body stiffens slightly at your words as he slowly looks up, leaning back a bit to see your face more clearly.
“Because of me, or because you think there’s a chance for Dionysia to reopen?”
He asks, his voice lower and colder for some reason, his grip tightening slightly.
You wrap your arms softly around his neck as you answer him honestly.
“Both. Because of you, and because I trust you guys can bring Dionysia back together.”
And that answer earns the biggest, widest smile you have ever seen from Elias.
Pairing: Subaru Kagami x Female Hotarubi!Reader
Tags: Mutual Feelings, Secret Crushes, Soft Romance, Kiss
Disclaimer:
Subaru Kagami Has Dissociative Identity Disorder
Both Subaru Identities Love Reader
Reader Is Down Bad For Subaru
Subaru Kagami Is Soft
Subaru Kagami Needs A Hug
Words Count: 20,656
Note:
I originally wrote this for Subaru's birthday, but I completely forgot to post it because it was a holiday where I live at the time. I left the story unfinished for a while because I wasn't satisfied with the ending.
But then I had my graduation recently, and it somehow gave me the inspiration to finally finish this fic.
Also, I just watched Kokuho in my country and the movie was absolutely 🤌🏻💋
Masterlist
In your mind, Subaru, when he's in love, it is very subtle at first because he is actually very, very, very good at hiding his feelings and keeping secrets. You would never know he is even interested in you, let alone that he likes you. Yeah, there is no way. It sounds so ridiculous.
He treats you the same as everyone else, no difference. He is very polite around you, a bit cautious and careful, but so what? He is like that with everybody. You're not that special. At least, that is what you think.
But you don't know, you would never know, you cannot know, how his heart slightly beats off rhythm ever since you stepped into his life.
I would say that for Subaru to like you, it is not hard but not easy either. He keeps to himself a lot, so in order for him to warm up to you, you need to be around him often. Like working alongside him, doing tasks similar to what Haku does. So maybe you're one of those juniors whom Haku trusts with small duties around Hotarubi when he is unavailable because of missions. He also knows what Subaru is like, so he is very strict when choosing someone to handle tasks with Subaru while he is away. He might look chill and laid-back, but his standards are high.
So it is such an honor for you to be chosen to work by Subaru's side. You need to be thoughtful and perceptive enough for this job. So yes, of course you are fit for the role.
As for Subaru, at first he has doubts that a new face could help him because he has grown used to shouldering everything alone. On top of that, most general students do not want to be around him because of rumors, so he keeps his distance from them most of the time. Haku suddenly dragging a newcomer along indeed catches him off guard.
He might not hand you many tasks at first, as he feels like he would only be bothering you. So you would have to confront him, saying that you are here to work with him, not to idle around, so he better give you something real to do or you will tell Haku about this. Subaru apologizes several times before finally giving you proper work. And to his surprise, you complete everything with great precision and speed. You are also a quick learner.
Of course you are. Otherwise, why would Haku allow you to assist him, right?
So you remain by his side, working with him little by little every day. Following him around, asking if he needs help with anything, always reminding him to get some rest and eat his meals. You even remember his schedule, like when he has lunch with Lyca.
It is not something he is used to at first; it overwhelms him a little. But gradually he becomes accustomed to your presence, to the point that if you are not there or if Haku happens to be around instead, he feels slightly strange. Like some piece of his life has been misplaced. So before he even realizes it, his eyes are always following your path, searching for you in the sea of people, in the dorms, across the campus, around the garden.
Even among those blurry silhouettes beneath the heavy rain and the gloomy sky of Hotarubi, his gaze always seeks you out. And there might be a day when you accidentally drop something, maybe your hair clip falls, or your bowtie slips loose. He picks it up without thinking, and suddenly he notices you laughing with your friends. The way you try to catch up with lessons in class. How you enjoy every meal during the day. How you pat those chunky cats around campus, or sprinkle candies for the anomalies scattered throughout the school.
And especially the way you defend him when someone gossips behind his back.
He sees all of it. At first, he feels guilty and ashamed. Self-doubt and insecurity creep over him at the realization that, despite those nasty rumors, you still stand by his side and place your faith in him.
He wonders if you feel that way because you look up to Haku, or if it is because of him, or perhaps because you simply enjoy the position of assistant. He does not know, and at first he does not want to know the answer. But slowly, curiosity grows stronger. He becomes more interested in how you see him and what you truly think about him.
You never seem to lose your composure around him. Always proper and polite, just like he is. Yet somehow he notices that straightforward part of you, and it is endearing to him. And the way you become more casual when speaking with Haku, laughing, smiling, joking freely.
He wants that too. He wants you to feel that comfortable around him as well, and he hopes that he could someday be just as at ease around you. But he cannot. He would not dare to. He only hopes you will not get yourself tangled up with someone like him. So he chooses to keep your relationship strictly professional. And he doubts you even see him as anything more than your House captain. He cannot even call the two of you friends either way.
But Subaru didn’t know that you had always looked up to him ever since you arrived at Hotarubi, and once you learned that Subaru was your captain, you had always wanted to be able to help him. It’s a bit embarrassing, but you were a huge fan of his back when he was still on stage, so you were very sad when he left so suddenly. Maybe fate is that twisted, it let you meet him here at Darkwick.
Somehow, the person you thought you would never be able to meet is now right in front of you, sitting beside you so closely that your fingers could brush, yet both of you keep a proper distance as if crossing that line would turn the world into a catastrophe.
All you dare to do is steal a few glances at him. And that’s it. You have no further intentions or thoughts about him. At least, you try to convince yourself of that because you don’t think you and he even belong to the same world, even when you stand this close to him.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
It all happens on one quiet night, maybe not that quiet, because the rain drizzling across the garden makes it harder to fall asleep. Even though you have grown used to that sound, and it has practically become your white noise by now, it suddenly becomes so hard to sleep that night. So you wake up, standing in the hall and looking out at the garden. The soft rain blurs the scenery, purple petals fall with the raindrops, scattered across the landscape. You can barely see the moonlight because of the rainy veil. But you spot a silhouette in the distance.
It’s not abnormal for someone to be in the garden at this hour. The thing you don’t like about Hotarubi is that you can’t just walk freely around without getting soaked or drenched. Umbrellas become a bit too much of a hassle at times, so most students rarely use one anyway. But you don’t like being soaked, so of course you still use one. And even when the students are used to getting caught in the rain, they would never just randomly stand under it for no reason like that.
You don’t think much about it as you grab the umbrella by your doorstep and make your way through the rainy veil. Your slippers splash against the wet puddles on the ground, and with each step, the rain seems to grow heavier. It blurs the view ahead, and with darkness falling around you like velvet, you can’t make out who it is even as you draw closer.
“Hello,” you call out through the rain. Your voice seems to echo, disturbing the velvet of the night laced between the sound of the rainfall. “Are you okay?”
The silhouette turns slightly to face you, and once you stop in front of him, you recognize him. Isn’t this your House captain? What on earth is he doing out in the rain in the middle of the night? Without an umbrella too!
“C-Captain! What are you doing here?” you ask with concern and worry in your tone as you lift your hand a little higher, shielding him with your umbrella and blocking the cold drift of rain, though he is already soaked by now.
Your eyes meet his, and for a moment you are stunned by his expression. His eyes seem hollow, like every trace of soul and light has been sucked away from them.
Subaru Kagami, the star Kabuki actor, of course he would have a very attractive face. He looks like a porcelain doll, as if one touch from you could shatter him into pieces. His skin is white as snow and looks even paler now, maybe because of the cold, wet rain, to the point that even his lips seem to lose their color. And the beauty mark right under his eye looks as if it invites people to plant a soft kiss upon it. He appears like a masterpiece sculpted by angels themselves, to the point that sometimes you don’t dare to look directly into his eyes, because his face is too distracting for you to focus on your work.
And also because you’re afraid that if you stare at him a bit too long, even if only for a second, he would know exactly what is going on in your head: how your heart beats off rhythm and how you feel about him. You know that Subaru has a habit of not getting too close to anyone. He is very polite and proper but a bit too cautious, and you think it is because of the rumors surrounding him. But at the same time, you feel like he is avoiding something.
It isn’t as simple as him not liking people being too close. He just seems unwilling to come into contact with anyone or anything that belongs to someone else. Even when you hand him documents, you are very careful about it. And since Haku gave you a bit of a heads-up about that habit of his, you have taken note and even started wearing gloves, just in case that would help Subaru feel more comfortable around you.
You just think he may have some obsession with being clean and tidy, or maybe some mental struggle, though you don’t really know much about him. But still, you are careful when it comes to contact with him.
You look at his face, his hair sticking to the side of it. On usual days he is always so well-groomed and tidy that you are not used to seeing this messy side of him. And even when water is dripping from the strands of his hair to his forehead and spreading across his porcelain-like face, it still looks velvety and silky. For other people, being drenched in rain would turn them into a mess, but somehow the rain only brings out Subaru’s soft features even more. As if the rain itself loves him, falling and dripping on him like gentle kisses placed upon his features.
Your eyes widen and flicker with surprise. You want to help him wipe away the streaming water, but you don’t dare to, and you won’t, because that is definitely not what he would want you to do. So your hand only grips the umbrella handle tighter as you speak again.
“What are you doing out here?” you ask hesitantly, feeling awkward like this. But letting your captain stand under the rain doesn’t seem right either.
But tonight, Subaru is strange. His eyes remain hollow, yet slowly the corner of his lips curves upward faintly. It’s the soft smile you usually see on his face. But because his gaze is so lifeless, it makes the smile somewhat eerie. It’s like looking at an old painting, worn and faded under the rain. He just seems unreal in your eyes.
He doesn’t answer you right away, letting the silence fall between you as his gaze lifts toward the dark, rainy sky again.
“It sounds pretty, don’t you think?” he finally says, not answering your question but drifting to something else entirely.
You are confused by his odd behavior, but you still follow his gaze. The only thing you see is pitch-black darkness and raindrops hitting the rooftop, along with the rustling of wind and leaves.
And he doesn’t say anything further. He simply becomes unusually quiet. Normally, Subaru isn’t much of a talker, but he would still try to make small conversation. Now, he just doesn’t seem to mind the fact that someone has caught him standing under the rain in the middle of the night. You see the rain soaking through his shirt. You really want to pull him inside quickly, afraid that he might catch a cold, but you don’t dare to touch him at all. You don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you.
But his odd behavior somehow makes you feel uneasy tonight.
“You should go inside, Captain,” you say quietly, trying to soften your voice because you don’t know what is on his mind and you don’t want to sound like you are nagging. “You might catch a cold…”
But he only lets out a soft chuckle at your words as he answers you, his gaze still fixed on the sky, and you can’t quite see his expression because of the shadows on his face.
He doesn’t seem to listen to anything you say as he suddenly asks,
“Why are you out here this late at night?”
And only now do you notice that Subaru, who is usually polite and always uses honorifics when speaking to you, no longer does so. You don’t question it much because he is older than you after all, but it is still odd because Subaru is usually very careful when it comes to speaking with others. You are unsure whether he truly wonders why you are here or if he just doesn’t want to go inside and is trying to avoid the subject.
“... I couldn’t sleep,” you answer honestly as he turns his face slightly toward you. “You can’t sleep either, Captain?”
You ask more quietly and gently, trying to ease whatever might be weighing on his mind.
And even that small movement makes you jump a little because it seems too stiff, like he is a puppet whose joints are being moved by someone else. You have to tiptoe a bit to shield him properly under the umbrella, and you feel a small patch of wetness and cold on the side of your shoulders as some rain drizzles onto your jacket.
Even though he doesn’t show much expression, somehow his presence alone is enough to scare you in a way. It feels like he isn’t himself, as if he were someone else entirely. Like something has possessed him somehow. But what do you know about Subaru anyway? Besides him being your captain and the fact that you help him with tasks, you have no idea who he truly is or what he hides beneath that cautious and proper exterior.
“Yes, I also couldn’t fall asleep.” His voice is soft, but it carries something unnatural within it. “It sings for me…”
He continues, and each word he says only makes you more confused.
“What?” you ask without thinking, though he doesn’t seem to mind your question.
“The rain, the wind, the leaves, and the flowers,” he says as his eyes wander across the garden before eventually settling on you.
“And you.”
You don’t quite understand his words as you look at him. You? Sang for him? Or did he mean something else about why you couldn’t sleep? You don’t know anymore as you look at the man standing before you. And only now do you realize how tall he actually is. You have grown used to seeing Subaru standing among other people, so he never seemed that tall compared to many of them. But now that only you are standing beside him and this close, you finally realize how his shadow can loom over you.
Subaru’s eyes quickly glance toward your shoulder as he notices the raindrops seeping through the fabric, and he suddenly leans down slightly.
“You should go back inside,” he says, his eyes narrowing a little. He seems displeased by how you rushed out here without enough layers to protect you from the cold, as if he isn’t the one standing soaked under the heavy rain. “It’s cold out here,” he adds, a bit more sincerely.
You are confused by how quickly his mood and subject have changed, making him hard to follow. But you still stand there in place while looking up at him.
“What about you, Captain?” you ask as you watch the raindrops slide along the side of his long, slender neck like crystals on a blank snowy canvas. “Shouldn’t you come inside too?”
Even though you are scared by his odd behavior, you still worry about him.
You don’t want him to collapse outside in this garden under the rain and have someone discover his corpse in the morning, especially when you are already standing right in front of him. But your words don’t seem to reach him as he doesn’t answer, just staring down at you coldly.
His look is so sinister that you don’t understand it at all. As if the one in front of you is some wicked void that has taken the shape of your sweet captain to lure you into its trap and devour you at any moment. And living in Darkwick, you doubt that such a thing would be impossible. But even though you don’t know much about Subaru, you can still tell that the man in front of you is indeed him, not some creature that has taken his appearance. Still, the way his presence feels makes it seem as if he could disappear at any moment, blurring and dissolving into the rainy veil.
You can’t think of any other option, so you reach your free hand out and softly tug on the sleeve of his shirt, now damp with rain, unsure how he will react to your action. Even the hand gripping the umbrella has a sweaty palm as you look up at him.
“Can you come back inside with me…” You pause for a moment as your voice comes out low and hesitant, a bit awkward as well as you wonder if you are crossing a line. “Please…” you add, thinking it might be better to say that as his eyes bore into your soul.
He doesn’t answer you just yet as his hand suddenly reaches out to grab the umbrella in your hand. His slender, long fingers curl around yours as well, making your eyes widen at the sudden action. You feel his skin against yours, the smooth palm covering your hand, wet and cold. It almost feels unrealistic for human skin. His hollow eyes remain on you, and the soft smile curves on his lips again as he speaks.
“Let me hold the umbrella then.”
You only nod as you slip your hand away, still stunned by his action. You try to keep your distance while the two of you walk back to the dorm, but the cold rain hitting your shoulder pulls you back to your scattered thoughts. Before you can process anything, you feel Subaru’s hand around your shoulder. Your attention shifts back to him as he pulls you a bit closer, not close enough to touch him, but close enough to be properly shielded under the umbrella.
You think he shouldn’t worry about your condition but more about himself, yet you still murmur a small thank you to him. Once you both step inside the hall, the puddles the two of you leave behind make quite a mess. You don’t think much about it as you quickly scramble to your room and grab a towel for him.
“You should dry yourself, Captain,” you say as you hand him the towel.
He takes it, his fingertip brushing yours softly. He still smiles at you, though he doesn’t seem to use it at all. You grow a bit worried at his slow movements while drying himself as water continues to drip from his clothes.
“Don’t call me that,” he suddenly says, something that doesn’t relate to what you were saying at all.
You look at him in confusion as Subaru steps a bit closer to you, leaning down so that his face comes nearer, making you almost take a step back as you straighten your posture.
“Subaru is fine,” he continues as his piercing gaze seems to crack open your skull. “Isn’t that what you always call me in your head?”
“W-what?” you ask as your voice trembles slightly, your hands clenching at your sides as he lets out a small laugh.
It echoes so uncannily in the small space between you that you wonder whether he has known about your little crush on him all along. Your heart beats so loudly it almost jumps out of your chest as your gaze flickers toward him.
But he doesn’t press the matter further. Instead, you see him drape the towel over his head, covering almost half of his face. The dim light from your room casts across the side of his face, making him look even more uncanny now.
“Can you help me, please?” Suddenly he uses honorifics again as he leans down to your level, gesturing for you to help him dry his hair with the towel placed on top.
You freeze in place when you hear his request. You hesitate, wondering why he asks you that or whether you should do it. But soon you lift your hand and slowly, softly help him dry his hair.
Your palm rests on the edge of the towel as you gently rub his hair dry. It’s the first time you have helped someone with this, so your movements are a bit clumsy and unsure. And because that person is Subaru, you just seem to want to be even more gentle with him. It’s not that you see him as fragile, but rather because… you like him. Who wouldn’t want to be gentle with the person they like? You don’t want to hurt him, so you are extra careful while drying his hair.
Until the water seeps into the fabric of the towel, until the drops stop falling from his hair. His eyes remain on your face the whole time, making you incredibly nervous under his gaze. You have to focus on what you are doing and avoid looking into his eyes so your hands won’t start shaking.
But his hand catches your wrist, so gently and softly, yet his grip is tight enough to startle you as you meet his gaze again.
“You’re being very nice to me,” he says. The words roll off his tongue casually, but you can hear another hint within them.
Is he… sulking?
But he told you to do that.
“I- I… you asked me to help you,” you try to argue as his smile fades.
And he looks at you so coldly that his gaze makes you shiver. It almost feels like the person in front of you isn’t him. You have never seen Subaru’s gaze look so cold, nor his thoughts so impossible to read. You swallow and remain quiet because those rumors begin to swirl in your mind as you wonder…
“You will do anything I ask you to?” he asks. His voice is still eerie, but there is a subtle hint of coldness within it.
The wind breezes through, the cold night air seeping beneath your skin, through the fabric of your clothes, laced with his voice as you almost tremble.
“You’re my captain…” you answer quietly. “I’d do what you need within my capabilities.” You don’t think much about your words because that is what you promised Haku when he chose you to help Subaru while he is unavailable.
Which means both of them entrusted you with this duty in some way. And you take your job seriously. You don’t want to let them down when they have placed such trust and faith in you. So of course you would try your best to do whatever Subaru needs within your ability. It wasn’t a lie.
But suddenly, the man in front of you lets out a laugh, a small giggle that sounds so eerie you can’t help but shiver. The way the floorboards creak beneath your feet only adds to the unsettling atmosphere. The towel still covers part of his face, making it hard for you to see his expression.
“Anything… anything…” he repeats in a murmur as you don’t know what to say. His grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers cold against your burning skin.
You try to slip away, but he doesn’t give you the space to do so as his gaze lands on your face again.
“You shouldn’t say that to anyone, especially not to a man,” he tells you, his eyes shifting slightly as he looks into yours, like you finally catch a faint glimmer of light returning within them. But it lasts only a brief second before they turn hollow again.
His words travel coldly into your ears as he doesn’t give you a chance to respond before continuing.
“It means that I could do anything I want to you.”
His face leans closer to yours as he says that, his forehead slightly bumping against yours. You can feel his breath on your skin brushing past the tip of your nose. You feel his scent filling your lungs, surrounding you. Cold water drips from his face down the nape of your neck, slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, making you shiver at the icy touch.
His hand slides up and gently caresses the side of your face. Even though you are scared of the man in front of you, you can’t help wanting to lean closer to his touch. Because he touches you so tenderly, so softly, as if you are some delicate flower in his hands. And the way his gaze flickers across your face, even though they remain hollow, you somehow still see a hint of softness behind his eyes.
He presses his forehead quietly against yours when he sees you don’t push him away. For a moment, you hear him exhale a soft breath of relief? Of satisfaction? You don’t know. But being in contact with you seems to satisfy him in some way.
You have never had any physical contact with Subaru before. You have always kept your distance. Even when handing him objects, there were always layers of gloves between the two of you.
This is the first time you have ever been this close to him. And he seems bolder with his touches than you ever imagined. You always viewed him as a proper person who kept to himself. You would never have imagined he would caress you with such affection.
His soft fingertip brushing against your cheek pulls you back from the thoughts running through your mind.
“Ca- Subaru…” you call for him, but he seems lost in his own world as his lips curve into a soft smile once more.
You feel heat rising from the back of your neck to your face, and you are sure you must look incredibly foolish in his eyes right now. Your mind practically malfunctions as you try to distract him.
“You’re soaked from the rain. You should go inside and dry yourself first,” you say a bit too quickly, stumbling over your words.
But he shakes his head slightly with a soft chuckle before leaning even closer. His voice drips like a whisper near your ear, making you shiver. You can feel his breath brushing against the tip of it.
“You shouldn’t invite anyone into your room like that.”
Your face grows even hotter at his words as you slip your wrist away from his grip, but he holds you firmly in place again. Your heart pounds loudly as your eyes meet his. His gaze is still hollow and unreadable.
For a moment that feels like eternity, he suddenly lets you go, stepping away from your space. He removes the towel from his head and hands it back to you. Your hand catches it instinctively.
“You should go back to sleep,” he says as he slowly turns and walks away.
Your gaze follows him, but you remain frozen in place. Your mind cannot comprehend what just happened as his silhouette gradually blends into the dark, endless hallway before disappearing from your sight.
His voice still seems to echo eerily in the air as your heart beats so loudly that you can’t even hear the rain anymore. The tip of your ear, the side of your face, the skin of your wrist, everywhere his touch lingers, everywhere you feel burning.
You stumble backward slightly until your back hits the wall behind you, and you slide down to the ground. Your heart beats so fast that you are afraid you might wake the whole dorm. You bury your face into the towel in your hands out of embarrassment.
WHAT IN THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
You wake up that morning remembering what happened last night. You barely got a wink of sleep after the encounter between you and Subaru, tossing and turning until almost sunrise before you were able to sleep a little. Your eyes must be red right now, with heavy eyebags from the lack of sleep.
You wonder if what happened last night was real or if it was all just some strange dream. So you pull yourself up and get ready for the day, trying to collect your breath and thoughts since you have to meet Subaru today anyway. It would be super awkward to mention last night, so you’re not sure how you are supposed to face him.
But to your surprise, Subaru behaves as if nothing happened. He still has that proper, polite smile, speaking with the same formality as usual and giving you the occasional soft smile. You almost bail your eyes out the whole time while listening to the tasks he gives you, spacing out a little. He doesn’t seem to remember what happened, or he is very good at pretending nothing happened. You can’t tell, because you can’t really read Subaru to begin with.
And you start questioning yourself, wondering if maybe everything you saw last night was just an illusion, a dream, or a hallucination because you dared to have a crush on your perfect, kind-hearted captain. So just like that, you stay quiet and never bring it up, simply playing the role of his assistant as always.
At least, things seem to flow normally until one night.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
You are staying up late reading documents and finishing your reports when you stand up and stretch, letting out a small yawn as you reach for some water. But it’s empty now, making you sigh to yourself.
Great. Now you have to go get some.
It’s pretty late and the night has fallen heavily. You’re not a fan of wandering around Darkwick at night, but making a quick trip to the common room isn’t that bad anyway. So you lift your heavy, tired steps to go get some water. It seems colder lately, so you grab your jacket before stepping out of your room.
You are greeted by a cold breeze that runs right through your skin, making you shiver. It hasn’t reached winter yet, but somehow the air always feels so cold at night in Hotarubi. So you walk through the dark hallway with the flashlight from your phone while checking WickHive. It’s just the same old stories as always, some scary ones, some gossip, some rumors. Hotarubi always has countless tales about spirits wandering around at night, scaring the hell out of most students. With the rainy nights adding to the creepy atmosphere, you understand why these stories spread so widely around campus.
To be honest, when you first arrived at Darkwick and lived in the dorm for the first time, you were a little scared. Most students in Hotarubi tend to keep to themselves. They rarely hang out at night, so the dorm always feels extremely quiet once evening falls, almost like no one lives here. Everyone tends to stay indoors. After all, the rain doesn’t really offer many opportunities for outdoor activities anyway. So there is only so much you can do.
But slowly you grow used to the atmosphere, and because you are too busy with your work and studies, you no longer pay much attention to the nights here. Though the sound of rain does grow on you after a while.
Once you arrive at the common room, you grab the jug and pour water into your bottle while looking around. It’s empty and clean because the students always tidy everything at the end of the day. A breeze drifts through the sliding door as you notice a hanten lying on the floor. It seems to disturb the tidiness of the room. So after you finish getting water, you crouch down and reach for the coat on the tatami floor. The fabric is soft, and a familiar scent fills your lungs.
Isn’t this… Subaru’s?
You wonder as you question why his jacket is here. He’s not the type to throw his belongings around randomly, and certainly not something that is part of his sleepwear.
Did he forget it here?
You don’t think much of it as you continue holding the jacket in your hands. Suddenly, you feel the urge to bury your face in it and inhale his scent, but you immediately curse yourself.
No, no, no, no!!! You are not that kind of creepy person. And you respect him far too much to do something like that.
But you don’t think clothes should be lying around on the floor like this, so you pick it up and fold it a bit neatly before taking it with you. Maybe you should give it back to him tomorrow… though it would be awkward if he asks how you knew it was his.
So you make your way back to your room. As you get closer, standing in the hallway and glancing diagonally toward the opposite corridor, you notice the silhouette of someone sitting under the soft light hanging from the ceiling. You wonder who would have the mind to sit out here at night.
Out of curiosity, your feet move as if they have a mind of their own, carrying you to the other side of the dorm. The closer you get, the more familiar that figure looks.
Isn’t that Subaru?
He is sitting on the engawa, with a traditional tea set placed neatly beside him. He must be enjoying some tea out here with the soft sound of rain. It isn’t something rare, most students do that here, but never this late at night. And they usually have company while enjoying the night together rather than sitting alone like this.
From a distance, you hear something that sounds like he is talking to someone. But you don’t see anyone else around, so you raise your eyebrows in confusion. Still, you step closer and notice that familiar floating doll sitting right next to him. He must be talking to it then, because as far as you know, only a few people on campus can communicate with that doll, and you don’t even know exactly what it is.
As if sensing your presence, the doll turns slightly to look at you before moving away from the spot, almost like it is running out of your sight.
Subaru seems confused by that as well, and he turns slightly before his eyes meet yours.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt you, Cap-” you start to say awkwardly, stopping midway when you see those same hollow eyes from a few nights ago staring back at you. Not the usual petal-like eyes your captain has, but the cold and eerie ones.
You see the way his lips curve slightly, stiff, yet soft at the same time and you freeze in place.
“It’s fine,” he answers, his voice blending with the soft sound of rain. “He was just accompanying me for some tea time,” he continues while keeping his gaze on you. “Would you like to join me?”
You could say no. Decline. Refuse. Then return to your room, to your bed, to your warm blanket. But for some reason you don’t. The way he speaks to you, the way he asks, it is strangely alluring. Like a spider slowly trapping you in its web. And before you realize it, you have already stepped closer.
As you kneel down, about to sit beside him, you notice that he is only wearing his yukata. The thin, soft fabric seems far too exposed under the cold air. You wonder if he doesn’t feel the cold at all, because his collar is slightly open, revealing his pale, delicate collarbone. You quickly look away out of awkwardness.
You gently drape the jacket in your hands over his shoulders before finally settling next to him.
“You could catch a cold…” you say, unsure of what else to add.
He lets out a soft smile as he pulls the jacket a little closer around himself.
“How kind of you,” he says in a low, quiet voice before beginning to pour you some tea.
His delicate, slender fingers hold the teapot while the cups clink softly. Your eyes focus on his movements. It’s not the first time you have had tea with him. He always prepares it for you and Haku during meetings, after all. But every time he does it, you find yourself wanting to watch more closely, as if everything he does fascinates you, even something as simple as breathing.
He sets the cup in front of you. Without thinking much, you pick it up and take a small sip. You’re not a fan of tea that is too bitter, and if tea tastes too strong, sometimes it means the person making it doesn’t have the right technique, at least, that’s what you learned from Subaru. But most tea he makes never tastes too bitter or strong. He always uses a type that helps with sleep.
As if he knows you can’t really drink most other kinds.
But maybe you’re imagining things, because he seems to struggle with sleep himself. Maybe it simply comes from his own preference.
Since then, you have mostly only drunk tea he makes, though you rarely drink tea anyway.
As if Subaru notices the way your eyebrows relax slightly, he speaks softly.
“I hope it suits your taste,” he says gently, his voice warmer than the tea cup in your hands. “It will help you sleep better.”
You’re not usually someone who has trouble falling asleep, though lately you haven’t been sleeping well. You look at the man in front of you and wonder who he really is. Is he truly Subaru? And why does he act so differently during the day? Is he trying to trick you somehow?
“Thank you. It tastes great,” you answer quietly. “But… I don’t really lose sleep that often…”
Maybe he does, though.
Raindrops fall softly from the rooftop as the wind drifts through. A heavy drop lands on a fragile petal that gently falls into the still surface of the tea in your cup.
Your gaze follows the purple petal resting quietly there.
Such a fragile thing, yet able to disturb the still surface.
His gaze also drops to the cup in your hands.
“What an unfortunate thing, isn’t it?” he suddenly says.
Your eyes flick back to him before you realize he is talking about the petal in your tea.
“…Why would it be?” you ask quietly.
He only smiles before shifting his gaze toward the rain-covered garden again, and you follow his line of sight.
Whenever you follow his gaze, it always feels like you’re staring into a void, an endless darkness blurred behind the rainy veil. Yet he watches as if there is a world of wonder hidden there.
“It disturbs the peace and perfection, don’t you think?” he answers while still looking toward the distant garden.
A soft breeze passes through the two of you, stirring his silky hair slightly and revealing more of the side of his face. You notice the beauty mark beneath his eye.
You have so many questions and so much confusion about him, yet you don’t know where or how to begin. So you remain quiet, lowering your gaze back to your cup.
“No matter how beautiful they are, something fragile like a petal will soon wither,” he continues.
“And no one will want to look at it anymore.”
You let his words sink in, wondering if he is simply talking about plants while more petals drift down through the soft wind.
“Well, I think they’re still beautiful regardless,” you reply while taking another sip from your cup, not minding the petal floating inside. “Imperfection is what adds to their charm.”
Because honestly, the first time you stepped into the Hotarubi garden, everything seemed beautiful to you, so beautiful that you were stunned for a moment. You had never seen such a spacious and lovely garden anywhere before, so of course you were thrilled to stay in a place like that.
But other than that, you never really noticed anything else here.
Because once you learned that Subaru was here, nothing else seemed as beautiful as him.
You remember the first day you saw him, walking through the hallway with the group of first-year students while the staff introduced the place. You noticed a figure standing in the garden under soft wisteria flowers, beneath an umbrella shielding him from the rain.
You saw someone who looked as if he was loved by the gods themselves, loved by the flowers, the rain, and the scenery around him. Everything else suddenly seemed dull and faded the moment you saw him. The noise, the petals, the rain, everything became background scenery that only highlighted his presence more and more.
His beauty made you think that every flower in that garden should feel ashamed.
Even when he wasn’t shining like a colorful, glorious blossom, he somehow still became the most striking flower in the garden.
You were so stunned to see Subaru that closely that by the time you realized it, the group of students had already moved on, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. As a result, you got lost while trying to find the common room until Subaru noticed and offered to take you there.
Subaru’s eyes fall back on you slightly when he hears your words.
“Is that so…” he murmurs softly.
Yes, it is so.
Because your eyes have always been captured by him, and you don’t really care about anything else. No matter how beautiful other things are, they still cannot compare to what you see in him.
Whether the flowers wither or not, it is simply the natural cycle of life.
And to you, nothing in this world is perfect. Even a crack, a dot, or a splash can become something distinctive in someone. A highlight that brings out everything more. And those who don’t realize how much charm they hold must not truly understand the effect they have on others.
Imperfection is part of the nature of the world, and it is not something to be ashamed of. Instead, it is something each person carries.
You let out a soft breath, the gentle scent of tea lingering in your lungs. The man beside you remains silent for a moment.
“Do you think a petal could disturb any moment in life?” you ask, wanting to understand him a little better, how he thinks and how he views the world.
He lets out a soft chuckle that tickles your ears and makes your heart beat a little faster as you take another sip of tea.
He doesn’t answer your question, leaving you wondering if he finds your words naive. You don’t really know.
But you feel exposed every time you speak to him, as if he can see everything you feel, even the deepest emotions hidden at the bottom of your heart, making it hard for you to face him properly.
Then he lifts his gaze to the dark night sky, as if waiting for something. He exhales softly while you sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.
You feel like a thief.
Looking directly at him feels like beholding a treasure that God has hidden away, something no mortal eyes have the right to see. Yet you, an ordinary person, are allowed to witness this sight.
The corner of his lips lifts gently. His long eyelashes flutter slightly. His slender neck stretches upward as he tilts his gaze toward the rain.
And you notice a small beauty mark on his collarbone before quickly looking away again.
You see his delicate fingers take the cup from his side as he takes a small sip, so you follow him, also taking a small sip from your cup. The atmosphere is peaceful, as the stillness of the air just makes the night seem quieter despite the sound of rain.
But suddenly a strong gust of wind breezes up and catches you off guard. No warning, no heads-up at all. Just out of nowhere, the rain seems heavier, making the soft leaves rustle as petals scatter everywhere, covering the ground, and some blow into the hall as you lift your arm to block in front of your face, almost dropping the cup of tea in your hand before a cold hand catches it for you, wrapping his palm firmly around your hand as he keeps your cup from spilling.
When the wind finally stops, you pull your hand down and see that Subaru is right next to you now. He lets out a small smile as you wonder what is so funny. Was it because the wind caught your hair and left it so disheveled? He helps you take the cup away, placing it softly on the tray as you lift your hand, trying to smooth down your hair while wondering if you look like an idiot or silly in his eyes.
Embarrassed by the thought, you plan to turn away, but Subaru reaches out for you first. His hand gently smooths the hair on your head down. His delicate touch feels so soft as his fingers almost thread into your hair. Then he picks something out. Between his fingertips, you see a soft petal pressed gently against his pale skin.
Your face still burns as you glance away slightly.
“Do I look stupid?”
You ask, and he only lets out more laughter.
It rumbles through the rain to your ears and heart as you just want to bury yourself in the ground.
But then he speaks up. “No, it suits you,” he says as he lets the petal go. The wind picks up again, slightly blowing the soft petal away from his hand into the rainy night as it disappears behind the blurry veil.
You notice that on Subaru's hair there are also a few small petals resting neatly upon it. His hair is slightly disheveled too. But he still looks beautiful. Like a page that got flipped in an artist’s sketchbook. It might make the paint smudge a little, but the colors seep even deeper between the pages, creating such a vivid scene as you see the wisteria petals pressed against his light brown hair. It creates a contrast that brings out his features, yet also suits him well. If anything, flowers just seem to add even more to his beauty, blurred behind the veil of rain as he softly smiles at a few petals falling into the palm of his hand.
And in that moment of daze, you quietly speak up.
“It suits you too.” And you can feel the burning sensation creeping down to your neck.
His eyes flicker back to you as you quickly clear your throat to break the awkwardness and avoid the topic any further. You are afraid that if you stay longer, he might be able to read your mind.
“Thank you for the tea. I’ll return to my room now,” you say to him, a bit too politely, as his eyes remain on you.
And to break the silence, you add, “You should rest soon too… it’s already late.”
You stand up, about to leave. About to run away from his stillness and piercing gaze. But when you turn away, you hear a quiet voice behind you.
“Good night, Wisteria.”
It catches you off guard for a moment as you turn back slightly, but his gaze is already back on the rainy night, so you only murmur a good night in return.
You then head back to your room, almost running and scrambling inside as you worry your heart might beat too loudly, and that if you stayed one more moment he would hear everything. You slide the door closed behind you.
You flop down onto your blanket and silently scream into the pillow.
He’s definitely not your captain. Or is he?
You don’t know anymore. He doesn’t seem like a stranger to you, but he definitely didn’t behave like your captain.
Does Subaru have some kind of personality identity disorder? You wonder. You don’t know anymore. You’re too tired to think as your eyelids grow heavy.
He was right. The tea does help with sleep. As seconds pass, you already fall deep into slumber.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
It was a normal day as you ran around doing tasks. With heavy boxes in your arms, you hurried down the hall. Of course, unable to see the path ahead, you almost bumped into someone, but you managed to stop in time, nearly falling over as you held the boxes tightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” you quickly said as you planned to continue walking away, but your eyes met a familiar pair of eyes.
“C-Captain.” You spoke up, almost biting your tongue, as it had been a couple of days since you last saw Subaru.
He had been on a mission lately, so you hadn’t really seen him on campus these past few days. His eyes widened, seeming surprised to see you too, before they quickly dropped to the heavy boxes in your arms.
“Sorry for running in the hall. I was in a hurry,” you tried to explain, feeling embarrassed for almost bumping into him.
Normally, he would awkwardly apologize to you too, even when he did nothing wrong, and then offer to help. But today something felt odd about him, as if he didn’t quite look you in the eyes. He averted his gaze slightly before speaking so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.
“I will help you with that.” He lifted the boxes from your hands with ease, and you didn’t even have time to stop him before he continued, “Where do you need them to be?”
So you answered him. “The storage room. It’s for next week’s festival.” Then he let out a small smile as he turned and walked away.
Noticing you were still standing in place, he turned slightly. “Are you not coming?” he asked as you shook your head, then nodded, then shook it again.
“Y-yes, I am.” And you quickly followed him until you were walking side by side down the hallway.
“Is it okay? I heard you just came back from a long mission,” you spoke up as you felt a bit uneasy letting your captain do your work when you were supposed to be here to help him, not the other way around, as you looked up at him.
“It’s fine,” he said as he continued to look forward. His tone sounded concerned and worried. “I’m sorry for the overflow of workload…” he spoke so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.
“I’m here to help you, Captain,” you answered him almost immediately, sounding a bit defensive as you cleared your throat. “Sorry… I mean, this is my job too. I don’t find it overwhelming at all.”
He let out a soft smile before continuing. “That’s good to hear.” He paused for a moment as the light hit the side of his face just right, making him look like an angel. “But you should get some rest sometimes too.”
It sounded casual, with no deeper intention behind it, so you didn’t really think much of it. But you spoke up anyway.
“You too, Captain.” You hesitated for a moment as his face seemed indifferent. “Did you… sleep well lately?”
You saw the way his hands gripped the boxes tighter. His shoulders stiffened as he was clearly caught off guard by your sudden question. He didn’t answer right away, and his gaze stayed straight ahead.
“Yeah, I sleep well…” he answered. There was no hint of confidence behind it, making you feel a bit skeptical.
He might not really have been sleeping well. Does that mean the “Subaru” you met at night was him sleepwalking? Can sleepwalking people wander around and talk so clearly like that? You don’t know anymore. You have a lot of questions in your mind, but you don’t know whether you should ask him. And… you might not want to know the truth.
Because why on earth would he behave that way toward you but act like nothing happened the next day? Because he’s embarrassed? Awkward? Or did he find it amusing?
You don’t know. You really don’t. He makes you so confused, but at the same time you can’t blame him. You don’t even know if he understands what is going on with himself anyway.
And as if he could sense the sudden shift in your mood, his gaze shifted to you in worry, his voice quiet with concern.
“Are you not sleeping well lately?” he asked, and you could sense a faint hint of care in it. But it was so subtle you wondered if you were just imagining things.
You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to answer honestly. “You could say so…” You chose your words carefully. “I wake up in the middle of the night a lot.”
“Maybe some tea could help you fall asleep better?” he said, though it sounded more like a question, a suggestion, or an offer.
You weren’t sure. But it reminded you of what happened the other night, when you sat beneath the roof, staring at the rainy night while sharing some tea with him.
“Maybe…” you murmured. “Do you often drink tea before you sleep?” you asked again.
You wouldn’t say you’re the talkative type. You usually only talk while working because you need to communicate and exchange information with him. Other than that, Subaru is usually very quiet too, so the two of you tend not to talk much outside of work and rarely share personal things. Which sometimes makes small conversations awkward. But today, you didn’t feel that way. Somehow you felt more relaxed asking him certain questions.
“Ah, that… sometimes I do,” he answered quietly, and you noticed the subtle stutter in his words.
You wondered what made him so awkward about the question, so you added another one.
“With Saburo?”
You asked it casually, but he suddenly stopped walking, and you stopped too as you looked at him.
For a brief moment, you saw the light in his eyes drain away, but it was only a fleeting second, too quick to tell whether it was real or just your imagination.
“I’d drink with Saburo… but he can’t really drink… so technically I’m drinking alone,” he answered your question with a subtle smile before continuing to walk ahead, and you followed him again. Somehow his voice sounded lonelier than before, though you couldn’t quite explain why.
This time his pace seemed quicker, as if he wanted to reach the storage room as fast as possible while you continued walking beside him.
“Can I join you then?” you asked impulsively, even as you wanted to clap a hand over your mouth.
His eyes widened at your question as you started cursing inside your head. Oh God. If he said no, you’d definitely drown yourself in the lake. And if he said yes? You might die from hyperventilating.
He seemed stunned and surprised for a moment, stopping again with wide eyes. But soon he collected himself and looked at you.
He seemed stunned and surprised for a moment, stopping again with wide eyes. But soon he collected himself and looked at you.
“O-of course you can join me,” he answered, and for a moment you thought you sensed a subtle hint of excitement in his tone. But Subaru usually didn’t show much emotion through his words, so you weren’t really sure.
The two of you continued walking as you got closer to the storage room.
“Then if you need someone to drink with, you can text me, Captain,” you said, and he let out a small laugh.
As if he were truly happy. His laughter was so bright you almost felt like covering your eyes and kneeling in front of him. You watched the strands of his hair move softly as his laugh rumbled gently in his chest, and the way the light seemed to kiss the features of his face somehow made you jealous. You wished you were that soft light that got to touch his face too.
Suddenly, a wind picked up, scattering the petals outside as they flew chaotically everywhere. It disheveled the strands of Subaru’s hair as he closed his eyes slightly at the sensation. The wind felt fresh and carried the floral and rainy scent of the garden as those wisteria petals blew into the hallway, lightly covering the floorboards.
You blinked until the wind finally died down, lifting your gaze again. Seeing those soft petals resting so neatly on his silky hair, and the way he looked slightly dazed by the sudden wind, made your hand reach out before your mind could think. You helped him pick the petal off.
Even Subaru was surprised by your action, his eyes widening. Only then did you realize what you had done.
Oh fuck. His hair was so soft, just like you imagined. You cursed desperately in your mind as you felt the heat creep from the back of your neck up to your face. You didn’t know what to say, the words were stuck in your throat.
You saw clearly the pink hue slowly spreading across Subaru’s face. It seeped into the pale skin of his cheeks, making him look like a soft cherry blossom petal. His cheeks turned such a bright pink that you couldn’t help finding him adorable.
But it was so awkward, and you were so embarrassed that you quickly took the boxes from his hands.
“T-that- I-I will take it from here! Thank you for your help, Captain.” You suddenly spoke a bit too loudly. “Have a nice day.”
Then you turned and walked away.
No, you ran away. You didn’t even look back to see how he reacted. He didn’t seem to have recovered or processed anything yet either way, so you took the opportunity to rush off, escaping that embarrassing atmosphere as you cursed yourself for acting so impulsively.
How dare you? How dare you touch him?! How dare you touch Subaru?
And his hair, damn, his hair felt like a soft cloud, but no, no, no, no.
What have you done?!
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Days simply flowed by as usual until one night when you returned to Darkwick a bit late. You had an R&R permit to visit home for a short while and tried to get back as soon as you could, or else Haku would be buried in paperwork along with Subaru.
With a heavy sigh, you stretched after the long day and walked down the hallway toward your room. As you passed by the common room, you noticed soft light spilling outside. Strange, normally no one stayed in the common room this late at night. Out of curiosity, you peeked through the crack of the sliding door and saw Haku inside with that familiar doll.
Although you didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, there were a few things you needed to discuss with him. So you slid the door open wide, startling Haku a bit. His eyebrows lifted, but once he saw you, the tension eased.
“Oh hey, you came back so late,” he said casually as you stepped into the room and sat down opposite him.
“Yeah, I thought it would be quick, but it took longer than I expected,” you answered, tiredness clear in your tone. You nearly melted onto the table in front of you, burying your face against it as you let out an exhausted sigh.
He chuckled at the sight of your fatigue as you rested your head on the table. The only reason you could be so relaxed around Haku was that he carried a laid-back atmosphere, yet he always gave advice whenever you needed help. And yes, of course you admired and respected him in certain ways. You viewed him somewhat like an older brother.
So maybe that was why you could loosen up around him a bit.
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said.
“Easier said than done,” you murmured quietly.
“Subaru said you haven’t been sleeping well lately?”
His sudden question made your mind go completely clear.
If you had a tail, Haku would literally see it shoot straight up the moment you heard Subaru’s name. He chuckled slightly, startled by your reaction. Of course, he wouldn’t know the reason. You had been very careful. Even if someone noticed anything, they would probably just assume you admired Subaru’s face and most students on campus did that because he was indeed very beautiful.
As for Haku… tsk. This man always acted so unbothered, but you knew he was sharper than he let on. That was why you had been extremely careful around the two of them, to the point that your relationship with Subaru was strictly professional and work-related.
That was all.
But hearing that Haku mentioned Subaru talking about you somehow made you feel a little happy.
“He told you that?” you asked, lifting your gaze toward the man sitting across from you.
“Yeah. He mentioned a few things, saying he might have pushed too much work onto you.” He leaned back, stretching with his hands behind his neck.
“Didn’t he say the same things about you?” you raised your eyebrows and threw the question back at him. “He always thinks he overwhelms us.”
Haku let out a small smile as he explained, “He’s like that, but he’s the one overwhelming himself.”
Haku’s comment made you fall quiet for a moment. Normally, what would they do to relax or entertain themselves? Especially when Darkwick was so strict about R&R permits. You drifted off into your own thoughts until Haku called your name. It sounded blurry in the background until he flicked your forehead, making you groan as you rubbed the spot.
“Ouch!! That hurts.”
He let out a mischievous laugh as you continued rubbing the sting on your skin.
“Because you were so lost in your own world, princess,” he said between laughs.
You rolled your eyes at his words, but before you could talk back, the door suddenly slid open again, aggressively. It startled you so much that you almost jumped from your seat as both you and Haku turned toward the doorway.
Subaru was standing there with a tray of tea in his hands. His eyes looked unusually cold, his expression unreadable, and somehow a chill ran down your spine. You stiffly sat up straight the moment you noticed him, unable to stop the nervousness rising within you as your palms grew sweaty.
“Captain, why are you here so late?” you asked as Subaru stepped into the room.
“Ah, Subaru and I planned to have some tea. Since you’re here, why don’t you join us?” Haku said casually, as if the decision had already been made. Declining would feel rude, so your gaze shifted to Subaru’s face.
“Well… if you two don’t mind.”
You spoke carefully as Subaru gave a soft smile before settling into his seat and placing the tray onto the table.
“I don’t mind. You asked to join the other day too,” he said quietly and gently. Yet somehow it sounded slightly bitter or sour compared to his usual tone, which scared you a little.
For a moment, you had thought the one who opened the door so aggressively was the other “Subaru,” not your captain.
You sat properly in your place the entire time the three of you shared tea. Subaru had also brought some sweet snacks for you to try. The three of you talked late into the night, with Saburo sitting beside you.
And that night, you were able to sleep very well too.
Was Subaru some kind of sedative for you?
You didn’t know. But his kindness somehow lulled you into a peaceful sleep, and you stopped thinking about it any further.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Though the very next night, when you were in your room, the wind suddenly picked up and blew the papers on your table everywhere. You rushed to close the window, but a loud thunderclap struck as lightning spread across the sky. The sudden flash made you close your eyes, if only for a brief second.
When you opened them again, right outside your window, a porcelain-pale familiar face was there.
You almost screamed out loud as he appeared out of nowhere.
It was Subaru. Once again, he was standing in the rain without any umbrella. The rain drenched his silky hair. You couldn’t make out his expression clearly as half of his face was buried in the dark.
You called out, “Subaru?” so quietly and uncertainly as the man stood there.
As if he wasn’t real. As if he were just a doll, a puppet that could only move when someone controlled him.
Slowly, you saw him step closer to your side. The light pouring from your window cast over his delicate face as raindrops fell from the tips of his hair onto his smooth skin, traveling and kissing each feature they passed.
You wondered how you could tell it was him just by the silhouette. But then again, who else would suddenly appear in the middle of the night, standing in the rain like that? It would scare you even more if it were someone, or something else.
You panicked when you saw his damp hair and the water streaming down his face. Rushing to grab a towel, you covered his head.
“W-why are you in the rain again?!” You almost wanted to lecture him, but then again, what right did you have? And you wouldn’t dare to anyway.
Subaru gazed up at you as if he were enjoying your caring hands helping him dry the cold dampness from his hair, his face, his skin. His eyes never left yours, making you slightly nervous. Your hands tried to be as gentle as possible as you ruffled through his soft hair with the fabric.
“Did you enjoy the tea I brewed?”
His question came so suddenly that you were caught off guard.
“Yes…” Though it wasn’t exactly him, was it? Or was it your captain? Was it Subaru?
Which was which?
You could tell they were the same person, but at the same time they felt like different people. Did your captain never remember what Subaru did? Because he always seemed so normal and casual around you when morning came.
Which made you wonder… who exactly was he?
The cautious, kind-hearted, soft-spoken captain.
Or the eerily cold and somehow hard-to-read Subaru standing in front of you now.
Which one was the real him?
“Who… are you, exactly?” you asked hesitantly, almost murmuring as the sound of rain blurred your voice.
But Subaru caught it.
His lips curved into a smile. A soft one at first, but it slowly grew deeper, making you wonder what he held beneath that mask.
“I am whoever you want me to be,” he said quietly, his voice like a soft melody reaching your ears.
But somehow it made your shoulders shiver.
Your hands stopped as you pulled away slightly from his hair to look at his face more clearly. The light flickered, yet somehow his eyes reflected none of it, not even the faintest glow.
You placed your hands on the edge of the window, hesitating for a moment, unsure who exactly stood in front of you.
But his hand reached out, resting on the window frame as well. His fingertips hovered softly against your skin. They were so cold and smooth that you almost wanted to tell him to come inside.
But you weren’t sure whether you should or whether he would listen.
“Do you want me to be that goody-two-shoes captain you so adore?” His question made your pupils dilate as your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.
As if it weren’t some secret you had buried deep in your heart, but an open page in a book he had read countless times.
“Or do you want me to be that Kabuki star you admire so much?” he continued, his low voice prickling your skin.
“Or… are you afraid of me?” he added.
The question carried a trace of sadness, but also a subtle warning beneath it.
You thought carefully about what he asked.
Yes, you liked Subaru. At least, that was what you thought. But in reality, what did you even know about him? He never shared much with anyone. You certainly didn’t seem important or special in his life either.
But this Subaru… the one standing in front of you now…
He made you feel seen. Exposed. Known.
As if he knew exactly what was inside your mind.
But maybe he was just having a fleeting moment of boredom, and you happened to pass by. Just another insignificant, meaningless detail in his life.
Was Subaru that kind of person?
And were you afraid of him?
At first, maybe his strange behavior startled you a bit. But he had never hurt you, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so.
So why should you be afraid?
You stayed quiet for a moment before answering.
“No. I’m not.”
Your eyes flickered across his face, trying to read any expression, but you found nothing. You wondered if he was skeptical of your answer.
“I just want… to know you better.”
Not as a mask. Not as a student. Not as a captain.
You just wanted to know Subaru. What was on his mind. What his smile would look like when he was truly happy.
“He could be a nasty person you don’t know…” his voice drifted through the cold air again, and you let the words sink in.
Subaru, a nasty person?
You had never really imagined that. And you wondered why he viewed himself that way.
Feeling his fingertip against yours, you hesitantly tugged your finger slightly against his.
He didn’t pull away. He only let out a soft smile.
“What do you consider nasty, then?” you asked the man in front of you as his fingers lifted slightly, teasing your fingertips. The sensation somehow tickled, tickling its way straight into your heart.
“This man…” he answered slowly. “He’s extremely jealous.”
“And jealousy,” he continued, “is such an ugly feeling, isn’t it?”
His question wasn’t really asking for an answer. He didn’t give you time to process it.
“You don’t know what he has in mind every time he sees you laughing with other people,” his voice sounded distant and dazed.
“Or how he feels about you.”
He slid his hand to hold yours.
So lightly, almost hovering, as if you were something delicate he was afraid of breaking. His thumb brushed featherlight across the back of your hand.
“You’d be disgusted… hoping he would stay away from you.”
It sounded like a warning. His voice was firm now, and his eyes narrowed sharply as if they could pierce your soul.
“…I will decide that myself.”
You didn’t take long to answer.
But Subaru only let out a small, eerie laugh. His shoulders shook slightly as he laughed, uncanny and almost manic, as it blended with the sound of the night rain.
He lifted his gaze back to you.
“I was created because that guy couldn’t accept or face who he truly is.” His voice was now filled with disdain and hatred as he pulled your hand into his.
“He is a coward. A pathetic loser who can’t even understand himself.”
Each word came out harshly, and you were surprised by how aggressive he sounded.
How could his voice carry such hatred and disgust when he spoke about your captain? As if he weren’t part of the same person, but some tumor he wanted to cut out.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the way he spoke.
“So, what do you feel now?” he asked. “Do you still think he’s such an angelic prince who will help you write your fairytale?”
His grip on your hand tightened until it hurt.
You tried to pull away slightly, but Subaru didn’t let you.
Your gaze flickered toward his face as he looked almost mad.
“Those rumors aren’t completely fabricated,” he reminded you, forcing your mind to stay on his words. “There’s a reason people say those things about me.”
You trembled slightly when he suddenly loosened his grip.
Before you could even process anything, he slowly let go and stepped away from you.
The light pouring from the window could no longer reach him as his figure was swallowed once more by the dark, silver veil of rain.
“I hope you sleep well tonight… again.”
And before you could call out to him, he had already turned and walked away.
His silhouette blended into the night as he moved through the rain, as if wandering without knowing where to go.
Like a lost soul drifting through the world.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
The next morning, when you arrived at the meeting, Subaru was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, other students said they had been calling him all morning, but he didn’t answer his phone or his door.
It seemed he hadn’t left his room the entire morning.
You wondered what had happened to him as you noticed Saburo in the corner. It was the doll that your captain and vice-captain had brought back from a mission. Ever since then, it had been wandering around campus as if it had a mind of its own.
You didn’t think much of it at first, but the doll kept floating around you in circles while you were working, as if it had something to say or show you. So you decided you should check it out a bit. As soon as you stood up, the doll dashed outside the room, and you followed it immediately.
Haku was occupied with some missions, so most of the work here was on your shoulders. Normally, he would be the one to call Subaru, but since he wasn’t available, no one really dared to barge into Subaru’s room to check on him.
You saw Saburo lead you down the hall, turning at corridors until you realized where it was trying to guide you. When you finally stopped in front of Subaru’s door, you looked at the doll as it continued to float around you.
“Do you want me to check on him?” you asked.
Saburo floated up and down as if approving what you said.
You were unsure what to do or what you should or shouldn’t do. You sat in a straight seiza position in front of his door, as if preparing for some kind of ceremony. Your heart beat loudly. You had never come this close to his room, let alone thought about stepping inside it.
“Captain,” you called quietly, but there was no answer after a moment.
The door remained closed as you called again. “You haven’t left your room since morning. Everybody is worried.”
The silence continued, and you began to feel uneasy as well.
“Subaru…” you called softly after a moment of hesitation. “Are you okay?”
Through the layers of the door, you heard a very small sound. If you hadn’t listened closely, you wouldn’t have caught it at all. But it was definitely Subaru. Maybe he was trying to answer you but couldn’t.
“Are you feeling unwell, Subaru?” you asked again, feeling even more uneasy.
Of course he would be. He had been standing in the heavy rain last night. You weren’t even sure if he had returned to his dorm immediately or continued soaking himself in the cold rain all night. You felt a bit guilty, maybe if you had insisted he go back to his room, he would have.
No. Who did you think you were?
Still, you couldn’t just leave him like this as you placed your hands on the sliding door.
“Excuse me for my rudeness,” you said before sliding the door open slightly. It creaked softly as light poured inside.
But you still couldn’t see anything clearly. It was so dark that you could only make out vague silhouettes in the shadows.
So you stepped inside and slid the door partly closed behind you.
His room was dark because no lights were on. Even with a little light slipping through the edges of the curtains, it still wasn’t enough to see properly.
You tried to make sense of the room as you carefully approached step by step. When you got closer to where he lay, you could hear his heavy, uneven breathing and the small uncomfortable whines slipping from him.
Reaching your hand toward the nearby table, you found a small lamp and turned it on. Soft, dim light spread through the space, allowing you to see him clearly.
His cheeks were flushed. Sweat had formed on his forehead, his hair slightly damp and sticking to the side of his face. His pale skin was now tinted with a deep pink hue. The collar of his yukata had slipped open too far as he struggled to breathe.
You removed the gloves from your hands, feeling slightly ashamed to touch him without his permission. But you didn’t know what else to do.
The back of your hand pressed gently against his forehead.
It was burning hot.
He had a very high fever.
It wasn’t unusual for someone to catch a cold after standing in the rain, but maybe because ghouls were stronger than normal humans, they tended to neglect their health a little, didn’t they?
You panicked at his condition and immediately rushed out to grab some essentials, medicine, a basin, a few small towels, water, and even some porridge for him to eat.
You instructed the other students to continue their tasks and informed Haku about Subaru’s condition, saying you would take care of the captain until Haku returned.
When you came back to the room, you noticed Saburo floating inside as well.
Subaru didn’t seem conscious enough to speak. You knelt beside his futon, dipping a towel into the basin and soaking it with fresh water. Wringing it out, you carefully pushed his hair aside and wiped away the sweat on his skin, from his forehead, to his face, and even his neck.
He let out a small whine, seeming to feel slightly more comfortable as the coolness eased the burning heat of his skin.
You gently turned his head to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck. Once you finished, you pulled the blanket neatly over him again.
“Subaru,” you called softly, unsure if he was conscious enough to eat anything or take medicine.
You had already texted the ghouls from Mortkranken, but none of them were available at the moment. And you weren’t even sure if Subaru would feel comfortable with just anyone touching him. What you had already done felt like a huge invasion of his space.
You would apologize later once his fever went down.
Luckily, Subaru slowly opened his heavy eyelids. They were still clouded and hazy from the fever, but he could see you sitting in front of him.
He quietly called your name.
You instinctively pulled your hands away a little.
“Do you think you can sit up to eat something?” you asked.
He seemed unable to fully comprehend the question, but he tried. His lips parted slowly.
“Yes…”
His answer was so weak you had to lean closer to hear it.
You carefully helped him sit up and adjusted the pillow behind him so he could lean more comfortably against the wall. He looked dazed, still unable to process things properly.
You doubted he could even hold a spoon right now.
You helped him drink some water, though even that dripped down the corner of his lips. You wiped the excess away with a tissue.
He coughed softly before trying to speak.
“Sorry…” The words came out with difficulty between heavy breaths. “For bothering you…”
You didn’t give him the chance to say more as you picked up the bowl of porridge from the tray.
“You should talk less and rest more.”
It came out a bit harsher than you intended but how could it not?
How could he neglect himself like this? How could that other Subaru let him become this sick? It was his body too, wasn’t it? As if he didn’t care about himself at all.
And it made you angry.
Subaru seemed surprised by your sudden firmness. He stayed quiet for a moment, perhaps ashamed, exposed and vulnerable under your gaze. Maybe he didn’t like being pitied.
But you weren’t pitying him.
You were honestly just angry.
And he could probably feel that if he reached out and touched you. But he didn’t.
He simply sat there quietly, watching you as you prepared to feed him with the spoon. His already flushed face deepened in color under the dim light as he spoke again.
“I- I can do that myself.”
But the trembling of his hands betrayed him.
“I’m here to help you,” you said quietly but firmly, meeting his gaze. “Let me help you.”
His petal-like eyes shimmered slightly through the cloudy haze of fever before he finally nodded.
You fed him slowly and carefully.
He couldn’t eat much because of his sore throat, but he still tried because you said he needed to take medicine afterward. So he obediently opened his mouth for each spoonful.
You wiped his mouth gently with tissue, and he didn’t stop you from doing anything.
But you could feel the faint tremble running through him.
Every small touch seemed to make his heart race even more.
You wondered if this was what that other “Subaru” meant, how Subaru truly thought about you and felt about you.
But you had no interest in taking advantage of someone who was sick. So you ignored the thought and focused on taking care of him.
Once he finished half the bowl of porridge, you placed it back on the tray and set the medicine in his palm along with a glass of water.
“Take your medicine. I’ll be right back.”
You spoke softly, almost as if speaking to a child. His dazed eyes stayed on you until you left the room with the tray.
When you returned, he had already settled back into his futon and taken his medicine. His breathing seemed more even now.
You knelt beside him again, soaking the towel in the basin before wringing it out. Your hand reached out to brush away the stray strands of hair from his forehead so it was more exposed.
Subaru’s eyes never left you.
And somehow it felt like an eternity had passed since you last saw the light in them.
You draped the damp towel across his forehead, the coolness easing his mind. Your fingertips brushed his skin lightly as you pulled your hand away.
Suddenly, his hand caught your wrist softly.
Your gaze shifted toward him.
“Do you need anything?” you asked.
He tried to shake his head but couldn’t.
“Stay with me… for a bit longer.”
His voice was so low, soft, and weak that your heart melted instantly. You couldn’t refuse.
You placed your hand gently on the blanket over his chest, patting it softly.
“I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay here until you feel better.”
You tried to reassure him.
His words had caught you off guard because for a moment you weren’t sure which Subaru had said them or whether he had finally decided to be honest with himself.
But it didn’t matter.
Whichever Subaru he was, you would still take care of him.
And he seemed relieved when he heard your answer.
His eyelids slowly closed again. His breathing became softer and steadier as the dim light brushed along the side of his face. His hair shimmered faintly under the warm glow as you gently patted him.
Until he finally fell asleep.
He slept for the rest of the day.
Haku returned later that evening and told you to get some rest while he took over. You wanted to stay longer, but you could feel the exhaustion settling deep into your bones.
You had hardly left Subaru’s room at all, worried he might wake up and not see you there.
So you felt relieved when Haku returned. He seemed to know what to do far better than you.
Still, he praised you and rubbed your head for taking care of everything while he was away.
Yet somehow, you still felt like you had done nothing at all.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
The very next day, Subaru had already recovered from his cold, his fever had cooled down. He felt better. So ghoul abilities are really different from humans. Most people with such a bad fever would take two or three days to completely recover. But he seemed as if he had never been sick. Once again, he returned to his routine and daily tasks. His face even grew more lively after that.
Though he personally came to say thank you, now so deeply while he knelt on the floor, he even gifted you some expensive tea and snacks to show his appreciation. You still felt like he was trying to ignore and avoid your gaze, and even more so, keeping his distance from you.
You didn’t press the matter either way, as you felt like you were in no right place to do so. So the two of you kept that awkward, professional relationship for a while, to the point that even the students around you could feel the tension and discomfort. They did not want to exchange too many words or tasks with the two of you, as they just seemed to want to run away, avoiding the heavy atmosphere.
As you thought your stiff relationship would continue like that forever, on one night when you were asleep in your room, comfortable under your blanket on your futon, you heard the soft creak of a floorboard, and it woke you up.
Someone must be walking down the hall, but it was so late now. You sat up from your futon as you looked at your door, only for lightning to strike at that moment and startle you a bit. It had been raining heavily lately in Hotarubi, which made the usual rain even worse.
But what startled you the most was that you could clearly see the silhouette, the shadow reflected outside your door, when the lightning struck. Like a ghost haunting your dream. If it were anyone else, they would be screaming, terrified, and wake up the whole building.
But because this was Darkwick, and you might have had a hint of who that was, you didn’t get scared at all. Lifting your blanket, you stood up, unlocked your door, and slid it open immediately, only to face Subaru right there. The familiar pale skin. His expression was still unreadable, with those hollow eyes. Fortunately, today he wasn’t soaked in the rain. He was very dry and seemed neat and clean. The only thing was that you somehow could smell the alcohol on him.
“Did you drink?” you asked, but the man didn’t answer you for a long time.
“Only a bit with Haku,” he answered quietly, his gaze flickering toward you.
You didn’t know what else to say as your gaze flickered back to him. He was dressed thinly again, and you wondered if he had learned anything from the last time he got sick.
“You shouldn’t stay out so late…” Unsure of what to say, you just spoke whatever came first to your mind.
“I shouldn’t.” He repeated your words as if he were reminding himself before suddenly stepping forward.
You were caught off guard and stepped back a little, keeping your distance from him.
“Subaru-”
You called him, but he suddenly reached for your hand. Catching your wrist in his grip, it grew so tight that you almost freaked out.
“I’m cold… very cold…” he spoke so quietly, laced with sadness and loneliness.
And you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad at that. You didn’t pull your hand from his grip, but you didn’t let him step any closer either.
“I wonder, are you afraid of me now?” His sudden question made you confused.
Why was he so persistent about whether you were scared of him or not?
“Do you want me to?” you asked him, but he didn’t answer.
You couldn’t see his expression as his face blended with the shadows. Suddenly, he pushed you down to the ground before you could even process it. Your eyes widened as your other hand pressed against his chest, pushing him away but even then, his other hand caught yours as he pinned your arms to either side of your head.
You never thought he would do that. No matter how strange this Subaru was, you had never considered him someone who would behave so rudely and improperly. Still shocked by his actions, you saw Subaru lean down, his face so close to yours that his breath grazed your skin. Even those silky-soft strands of his hair fell down slightly.
His delicate face was so close to you, yet you still couldn’t see him clearly. It was like an illusion, like he wasn’t real, as always. And maybe he indeed wasn’t real. Because Subaru would definitely never do this to anyone.
“You should be.” He tilted his head slightly until his voice was right next to your ear.
Warm breath brushed the tip of your ear as his quiet, eerily soft voice traveled through you. Your spine chilled as you tilted your face away from the sensation. But he seemed to chase after you, like a beast that wrapped its prey inside its claws and teeth.
His breath was laced with a hint of alcohol, and you thought he must have been drunk, that’s why he did this. Impulsiveness, completely out of his character. You tried not to panic as you looked at him.
“Did you have that much faith in this coward?” he asked as he referred to “Subaru.”
A mocking, disdainful tone followed as he let out a small laugh, echoing in the air, as if he were laughing at himself, because it was indeed himself.
“He’s not a coward,” you corrected his words a bit, and the man lifted his head to meet your gaze once again. “And you’re not one either.”
“Is that so?” he asked, maybe even unsure of what you were saying.
“Yes. Do you think a coward would be able to handle those tasks he disdains so much?” you asked him, and his grip grew tighter as your words slipped out.
You ignored the pain as you continued.
“Wouldn’t you understand yourself the most?”
His eyebrows twisted, and his flickering gaze fell onto your face as if you had stirred something inside him. And he didn’t like that feeling, because that seemed to give the “other” him more consciousness back, which meant his control over himself was weakening.
“Subaru.” You called to pull him away from his thoughts. “I like you.”
You had never really wanted to confess to him in this kind of moment, nor had you ever planned to tell him about your feelings. Because you didn’t want to risk breaking whatever fragile line existed between the two of you. The only connection you had with him was as an assistant. Without it, there would be nothing between you. No different from strangers.
And you didn’t want to imagine how he would politely, awkwardly, and guiltily decline you. He would definitely feel bad even though it wasn’t his fault. It was just who Subaru was, he always thought that everything wrong in this world was his fault and that he must take responsibility for everything. And you didn’t want any of that. You didn’t want him to blame himself for being unable to return your feelings.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said, crashing whatever delusional imagination you had about his perfect mask.
But you didn’t feel bad or ashamed when he said that, because it was true. You didn’t know Subaru, at least not in a way where you could understand him.
“I know that,” you spoke up, almost arguing back to him. “And I also know…” you continued, “that you will never hurt me.”
His grip loosened, and you took that opportunity to slip your hands away from his. You sat up a bit and pushed him down to the ground this time. He was stunned by your actions, just as shocked as you had been when he pushed you down. But he didn’t push you away at all. If anything, he seemed unusually calm about it, as if what you did didn’t bother him at all.
“I don’t care what the rumors say.” You leaned down a bit to whisper to him. “I will believe what you have to tell me yourself.” It sounded more like a challenge than you had expected as his gaze stayed on you.
And you had nothing else to tell him. Seeing how inappropriate your position was, you got off him. But Subaru reached out for you once again as his arms wrapped around you, keeping you still on his body. Your shoulders stiffened at his touch. His hand slid up to your head so gently as his fingers threaded through your hair, softly smoothing it. You felt his warm breath against your ear as he inhaled, as if trying to bury your scent deep in his lungs.
You felt your face burning hot as you tried to move away. But then his voice softly and weakly slipped out beside your ear.
“Please, let me stay like this for a bit.”
It reminded you of that day when you took care of him. He had also used that weak tone to ask you to stay, like a child who needed someone by his side. It made you unable to say no to him.
So you let him be. Let his hand softly press against your hair, and how he wrapped his arm around you so tightly.
After a while, you felt his breath slowly even out, and his hand also stopped, dropping slightly to your side. You lifted your head up from his chest and could see his face a bit clearer now.
He had fallen asleep.
He disrupted your sleep, and now he had fallen asleep so peacefully, so soundly, as if he hadn’t just created a mess in your head and your heart.
But because your mother raised you so well, you couldn’t find the heart to let him sleep on the floor like this. Trying to get him onto your futon, you finally draped a blanket over his sleeping body. He didn’t move an inch when you dragged him across the floor. He just passed out like that, probably because of the alcohol, you weren’t sure.
But you were glad that you had an extra futon so you could sleep on it. Still, opening your eyes and being able to see the side of his face, how his chest rose and fell so peacefully, and his breath softly near your ear, made you fall asleep a bit easier.
The very next morning, when sunlight poured through the window, you turned slightly under the covers before you suddenly panicked and sat up straight, looking around your room.
He was no longer there.
It was just you in the empty room. Even the blanket and futon were folded so neatly in the corner. And on your desk, you saw a small note written in such delicate handwriting.
“I’m sorry.”
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
And ever since that night, you have been unable to meet Subaru. You still work as his assistant, but most of your tasks were handed out by Haku. Suddenly he had more work, it was to deliver whatever Subaru had for you. And the poor vice-captain just seemed to become busier.
But he didn’t say anything, as he noticed some awkward friction between you and Subaru. He believed it was something the two of you should handle between yourselves.
So he just acted like everything was normal, and so did you, and maybe so did Subaru. You weren’t even able to talk to or meet him again until the Star Festival.
It was the only day that it would not be raining in Hotarubi, and you could finally see the sunshine through the air properly. But you couldn’t enjoy it much because you were one of the many staff members helping with the event. Assisting Haku around the stalls was one of your many tasks.
And since your House captain had the honor of being chosen as one of the Cowherds along with other ghouls, more work fell on Haku and you, as both of you seemed tangled in turmoil, trying to make sense and rhythm out of your tasks.
It was early that morning as you rushed through the hall, making your way to the common room because you had some papers you needed to check one last time with Haku. But you were unable to find him anywhere. Since he was so busy, he was practically running everywhere around Hotarubi, and you almost breathed fire out of frustration.
The last group of students who saw him said he had headed to the common room, so he had better be here, or you would definitely go insane. You already had your hakama on but didn’t even have time to do your hair properly because you were so busy trying to find your vice-captain.
But when you slid the common room door open so aggressively, ready to shout out, the words fell back into your throat as your eyes met Subaru.
Two pairs of widened eyes met each other in awkwardness as you cleared your throat.
You acted casual as you explained, “I’m here to find Haku.”
Subaru only gave you a small nod as he seemed to be in the middle of getting ready. You looked at his dazzling Cowherd outfit, and he looked like a little angelic prince right now. This felt a bit unfair, didn’t it? Why was he so pretty? And why were his eyelashes so long?
He was sitting in front of a mirror as you planned to leave, but Subaru spoke up first.
“He said he would be here to hand me some papers. I’m… waiting for him too,” he explained softly.
You sighed heavily in your mind. You really couldn’t run away, could you? So you stepped inside and stiffly sat down opposite him, sneaking a glance at him as you tried not to stare too much. He looked so handsome today that you couldn’t help but steal another glance.
Fuck, stop it, will you.
And his gaze seemed to flicker toward you too. He looked at you so openly while you tried to ignore his stare. Why was he suddenly so obvious about looking at you? It stressed you out a bit as your palms grew sweaty.
He seemed to take in your appearance for a moment before quietly speaking up.
“You haven’t done your hair?”
It felt like a casual question as your gaze returned to him for a brief moment before you answered awkwardly.
“Ah, yeah… I didn’t really have time to do it…” You subconsciously reached your hand up to smooth your hair as you wondered whether it was messy and whether you looked like an idiot in his eyes.
Silence fell once again before Subaru suddenly spoke again.
“Do you… want me to help with that?”
Your eyes flickered up to his face as you asked in surprise.
“You know how to?”
He nodded quietly as he spoke, a bit awkward while explaining.
“I used to… do the wigs for my roles on stage…” His voice was laced with nostalgia, and his eyes looked somewhat sad, as if he had recalled memories from when he performed on stage.
You knew it was a sensitive topic for him, as most of the time no one ever mentioned it. So instead of answering him directly, you simply stood up and moved to his side, sitting down beside him.
You could feel his shoulders stiffen slightly when you suddenly moved closer. But still, he looked at you with anticipation in his eyes.
“Then… I will be in your care,” you spoke quietly.
The corner of his lips curved softly into a smile as he set the mirror on the table, angling it slightly toward you while he moved behind you.
His slender, delicate fingers carefully threaded through your hair, gathering and wrapping it softly and neatly behind you. His fingertips gently tucked the extra strands behind your ears. When you lifted your gaze to the mirror, your eyes met his through the reflection. Out of embarrassment, you quickly averted your gaze.
He picked up the comb and began to brush your hair carefully and gently.
You felt his hands moving through your hair, as if he were touching something fragile and delicate. His hands moved quickly but with great care. You couldn’t see exactly what he was doing behind you, but you trusted him.
When he finally finished, he tilted the mirror slightly so you could see yourself better.
“Thank you…” You were too stunned to say anything else.
He must have been a magician, no, more like a fairy. His hands worked like magic. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you doubted you would be able to do your hair this well even if you had the time.
A soft smile appeared on his lips as he answered you.
“You’re welcome.”
But before you could say anything else, you saw him take out a small accessory from the long sleeve of his costume.
It was a hair clip, a tsumami kanzashi, with white and pink flowers made from delicate fabric. You could even see a small bunny charm attached to it.
He carefully clipped it to the side of your hair, as if he had specifically brought it for you, as if it belonged there.
“It’s very beautiful…” you murmured, which made you wonder whether you deserved it and why he had placed it on you.
As if he could sense your doubt, he explained quietly, “It was an old piece I used to use with my stage outfit.”
His fingers gently tugged a stray strand of hair away from your face.
“It suits you.”
His words were laced with such affection and care that your face burned. You didn’t dare to look at him or even at the mirror, afraid you might look foolish.
And his eyes were looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful person in his life, as if his whole world orbited around you.
Subaru would never look at you like that. You knew that.
So… what made him different today?
But the sliding sound of the door pulled both of your attention toward the entrance as Haku stepped into the room awkwardly.
“Sorry, did I interrupt you two?”
You immediately answered.
“No, we were waiting for you.”
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
So you all departed after that to move on with your work. It was a tough day, packed with people and stalls left and right. You had to run back and forth between each stall to check on them, see if the students needed anything, and control the crowd when it became a bit overloaded around certain booths.
Both you and Haku couldn’t even have lunch, as you were running around all day. Occasionally, Haku would update you about his side of the work, and you would do the same. Being too busy gave you no space to even think about anything else.
When night finally fell, you still couldn’t breathe easily, as it seemed like even more people had arrived. Some students commented that it was because of the lantern ceremony. Everybody was shifting toward the lake, which left the stalls a bit less crowded.
But when Haku texted you saying he needed some more support by the lake, you sighed heavily and rushed there, only to find Haku standing with some other students around him.
“Hey, what do you need me for?” you asked, but the man had already handed you a mask.
It mimicked the shape of a fox’s face. You took it from his hand, raising your eyebrows skeptically.
“We need one more person to ring the bell by the lake,” he explained, and you noticed he also had a mask resting on the side of his face.
“Put this on when you head to the east and ring the bell there,” he continued, and you only gave him a nod.
He seemed in a hurry as he left again with some other staff members. You then headed to the east side of the lake, where you indeed saw a pole with a bell attached to it. People were packed everywhere as you carefully moved through them to reach the pole.
As you managed to get there, someone moved around and bumped into you, making you stumble and almost fall forward. But a pair of hands caught you immediately as you lifted your head.
“S-sorry.”
Only to see Subaru and the other Cowherds. That vice-captain from Jabberwock who stood so tall behind him, and that wolf boy from Obscuary. They must have finished their mission if they were here now.
“Are you okay?”
Subaru’s voice pulled you back to reality as you nodded your head.
“I’m fine…” You looked around a bit, still awkward, before asking them, “Are you here to see the ceremony?”
“Yes, it’s the first time they’re able to see one,” he answered, and you noticed the curious eyes of the others.
“Oh, then I hope you guys enjoy it,” you said casually. You thought Subaru would leave with them.
He said something to them as they all moved toward the lake, while Subaru remained where he was.
“You’re not coming with them?” you asked as he shook his head slightly.
“You’re about to ring the bell, right?”
He asked you back as you nodded.
“I’d like to view it from here,” he said quietly, and you had nothing against it.
Stepping closer to the pole, you looked at the watch on your wrist, waiting patiently with him by your side until it was time.
You saw some students place lanterns onto the cold, still surface of the lake. One, then two, and slowly it became tons and thousands of lanterns. Before the ceremony, there was a short moment for prayer. Subaru stood by your side as he clasped his hands together, closing his eyes and lowering his head, as the rest of the students did the same.
You also clasped your hands together and lowered your head, wishing blessings upon the path for both the unfortunate and fortunate spirits.
Slowly, the wind picked up as your hand gripped the rope beneath the old bell. You pulled it softly, and as soon as the ringing sound echoed through the air from every side of the lake.
Fireworks burst into the sky, blooming in bright colors against the velvet darkness. They shimmered and glistened everywhere their light touched. Slowly, the warm glow from the lanterns floating on the lake began to rise into the air.
Gradually, they all drifted upward toward the endless horizon, creating a bright halo across the night sky.
This wasn’t the first time you had seen a lantern ceremony. But it was the first time you had seen it this clearly. Last year, you hadn’t found the right spot to watch it properly.
Your eyes sneaked a glance to your side to look at Subaru’s face. The bright light cast over his delicate features, making him shine like an angelic prince. His beautiful costume shimmered under the glow, and you found yourself unable to look away.
In that moment, you felt like he looked far more beautiful than the ceremony itself.
And as if he could sense your gaze, his head turned toward you, meeting your eyes. You were glad you had the mask on, or you didn’t know what kind of expression you would have shown with your cheeks burning so violently.
A gust of wind suddenly picked up, carrying familiar, soft wisteria petals everywhere. You heard some students cheer at the gentle breeze as you closed your eyes slightly against the wind.
And suddenly, Subaru, who had still been looking at you, broke into a small laugh.
It was laced with happiness and affection, and you wondered what had made him so happy. But he looked even more beautiful with laughter on his lips.
He suddenly spoke under the colorful lights.
“Hakama really suits you,” he said, and then continued, “You look very beautiful.”
And that twisted something inside your chest, making your heart race and pound loudly in your ears. Every other sound seemed to fade away. All you could hear was his voice echoing and the beating of your heart.
He called you beautiful. But did he know he looked so heavenly right now?
It felt like receiving a blessing from an angel.
You couldn’t help it.
The impulse took over. The atmosphere pushed you forward.
You stood on your tiptoes and pressed your mask against his lips.
As if you were kissing him, stealing a soft peck. The only difference was that you didn’t dare to do it for real. You only dared when there was a layer between you two, something that blocked and divided it, reminding you of the invisible line between you and him.
Your face burned brightly, your brain malfunctioning because of what you had just done. Out of embarrassment and seeing Subaru’s eyes widen in surprise, you planned to turn and run away immediately so you wouldn’t have to face him or see his reaction.
But before you could move, Subaru’s hand reached out to catch yours as he stepped closer.
You froze, not knowing what to do, where to put your hands, or what to say.
You watched as Subaru’s delicate fingers touched your mask and slowly moved it aside, exposing your embarrassed face under the bright lights.
You couldn’t hide or run anymore. His eyes flickered with your reflection.
Your heart beat even louder than the fireworks in the sky.
His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, as if he were drinking in every detail of your expression. You saw his eyelashes flutter softly.
Even his cheeks were flushed now as his other hand reached up to tug a stray strand of hair away from your face.
Then he leaned closer.
You closed your eyes instinctively as you felt his soft lips press against yours.
It was like a dream.
No, even in your dreams, it had never felt like this.
You had never imagined your first kiss with him would be this romantic. Under the colorful fireworks, with the wind carrying soft wisteria petals around you both and with him looking so breathtaking.
But it was real.
You were sharing this moment with him.
You were so nervous you couldn’t think straight. His scent filled your lungs, and his soft lips pressed against yours so sweetly and tenderly.
When his eyes slowly opened and he pulled away just an inch, you opened yours as well, meeting his dreamy gaze.
You knew that you liked Subaru. No matter which version of him.
And Subaru?
He felt the same.
No matter which version of himself, he loved you in all of them.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Let’s say your relationship changed a lot after that day.
He no longer avoided you, and the two of you no longer kept your distance. You would spend time having tea together. And when night fell, you would sit by his side, gazing at the silver veil of rain with the moonlight blurred behind it.
He also honestly told you that the “other Subaru” was a persona formed after long years of suppressing his emotions and overworking himself until the stress overwhelmed him. It was also a side effect of his stigma, something he tried to hide most of the time.
The rumors had started because of that persona.
Even though most of the time he didn’t cause any trouble, Subaru still felt uneasy. The two sides of him didn’t seem to be on good terms, even though they tried to coexist. He kept to himself because he believed no one could accept that other part of him.
Because that Subaru was nothing like the proper, polite image he had crafted for himself.
But you found it endearing.
Because whoever he was, you knew he wasn’t someone who would harm you.
And you knew both versions of Subaru shared the same feelings for you.
So none of his hidden sides scared you. If anything, it only made you want to know him even more.
You were still his assistant, only now he had become more proactive in giving you tasks, as if he had been preparing you for something.
You didn’t think much of it. You assumed it was because he had grown more comfortable with you, and since he was responsible in his work, he expected you to be the same.
At least, that was what you thought.
Until the day one of Darkwick’s staff cats arrived with an envelope for you.
It was very unusual because you had never received this kind of letter from Darkwick before. Normally, invitations or urgent matters would be sent to your captain and vice-captain.
But the cat sat neatly in front of you, its tail wagging impatiently at your hesitation to take it.
Knowing it was for you, you finally took the envelope and opened it.
Reading through the letter, you realized it wasn’t an invitation or an urgent matter, but an announcement for you.
At least, it had your name on it.
The new captain of Hotarubi for next year would be entrusted to you.
This decision had already been discussed with your captain and vice-captain, and it had been approved by Darkwick itself.
Why didn’t you know anything about this?
Both Haku and Subaru hadn’t told you anything. You wondered when they had even discussed this matter.
You knew they would be fourth-years next year and wouldn’t be available on campus anymore.
But you had never imagined that you would be the next captain.
Holding the letter tightly in your hand, it wrinkled slightly. You couldn’t stop your heart from racing as it beat loudly in your ears.
You just wanted to rush and show Subaru this.
But what were you going to say?
Tell him something he already knew?
Still, you were so thrilled right now. You didn’t know what else to do or think besides sharing the news with him.
Your pace quickened as your shoes tapped against the ground with each step. Rushing through the halls, you didn’t even reply to the students who greeted you. They looked dumbfounded as you passed them in a hurry, as if you were being chased by a ghost.
You didn’t care.
The sound of rain continued falling from the rooftops. Wind and cold air brushed through your hair, softly caressing the side of your face as you bumped into someone when you turned a corner.
You looked up immediately.
“Sorry! I was in a hurry.”
To your surprise, it was Haku.
He let out a small chuckle once his gaze fell on the wrinkled paper in your hand.
“If you’re looking for Subaru, he’s at the garden near the common room.”
He didn’t even need to ask to know who you were searching for.
You gave him a firm nod.
“Thank you!”
Your feet picked up again as you rushed toward the common room. But when you slid the door open, the room was empty.
Only a small tea set rested on the table, as if someone had been in the middle of enjoying it before suddenly leaving.
You saw steam still drifting softly from the teapot, creating a thin ribbon in the air. Subaru must not have left long ago or he couldn’t be that far.
Your gaze shifted to the tall window overlooking the garden. Through the veil of rain, you could barely see anything.
You placed the letter on the table.
Right now, you only wanted to see him.
Nothing else really mattered.
You stepped outside into the heavy rain without hesitation. Raindrops soaked your hair, your skin, your uniform. Water drenched you instantly, but you didn’t care about the cold or how your hair stuck to your face.
You looked around before walking deeper into the garden. Wisteria petals dripped down along with the rain, sticking in your hair.
Finally, you spotted a large old wisteria tree.
It was one of the many large trees in the garden, its branches forming a curtain of purple petals that hung softly in the rain.
You stepped closer and lifted the curtain of flowers.
And there you finally saw your boyfriend standing beneath them.
He held an umbrella in his hand.
You wondered what he was doing here, but Subaru always seemed to like standing in the garden. You believed it was his way of relaxing.
You stepped closer quietly.
But when you accidentally stepped on a small branch, it snapped softly. Subaru heard it and turned slightly.
When his eyes met yours, they seemed to melt through the silver rain and falling petals.
His lips curved into a gentle smile the moment he saw you.
“Subaru,” you called.
He immediately rushed to you and lifted the umbrella over your head.
“Why are you out here without any cover?” His gentle hand softly wiped the cold raindrops from your cheek.
You gave him a bright smile.
“Did you and Haku recommend me as next year’s captain?” you asked immediately, ignoring his question.
He simply smiled as he tucked your damp hair behind your ear.
“So you got the letter,” he said quietly.
It was a quiet confirmation.
You caught his other hand in yours.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was surprised when the cat kept rubbing around my legs.”
You spoke with excitement as his hand continued to caress your face gently.
His thumb brushed softly beneath your eye, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
“I meant it as a surprise for you,” he replied softly, his voice blending with the rain.
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him.
He seemed surprised at first, but his arms soon wrapped around you as well, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. He didn’t seem to mind the dampness of your clothes.
“Let’s go inside and get you dry first,” he said.
But you held his hand again, stopping him.
He looked at you in confusion.
“I want to stay here a bit longer with you.”
He smiled at your answer.
You noticed the side of his shoulder was damp, he had been holding the umbrella only over you.
You stepped closer and gently pulled him nearer so the umbrella could cover both of you properly.
His hand lifted again, picking a soft petal from your hair.
You looked up at him.
If you could see yourself in a mirror, you would probably be embarrassed by how lovesick you looked right now.
You couldn’t help it.
He looked so dreamy under the rain and the curtain of flowers, like an angel in some faded watercolor painting.
If you blinked, he might disappear into the rain.
But he wouldn’t.
He was right here.
You saw a soft pink hue spread across his cheeks as you kept gazing at him.
He suddenly spoke, pulling you from your dreamy thoughts.
“It’s like the first time I met you.”
Your gaze flickered to him.
“You remember that?”
He nodded with a small laugh.
“Yes. I remember how you looked so lost in the hallway.”
Your face warmed slightly at the memory. He would never know the real reason you got lost was because you had been too busy staring at him in the garden and didn’t notice when your group left.
And you decided it was better that he never knew.
“You also had some petals in your hair back then,” he continued.
“Really?! Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” you asked.
He laughed softly.
“I thought it was cute.”
His words made your face heat up again.
You spoke quietly.
“I will miss you… once you become a fourth year or graduate.”
You had always been honest with Subaru ever since you started dating.
Because you understood him, his concerns and his anxieties.
“I promise I’ll visit you often,” he reassured gently.
The light glistened in his eyes, and all you could see was your reflection in his pale purple irises.
“Subaru,” you called softly.
“Yes?” he answered in an affectionate tone.
“Can you lean down a bit?”
He did.
Still holding the umbrella over you, he leaned closer.
You didn’t hesitate.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips softly against his.
He let out a small smile between the kiss before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss gently.
Soft petals scattered through the air, landing against the umbrella that shielded you both from the veil of rain.
Pairing: Subaru Kagami x Female Hotarubi!Reader
Tags: Mutual Feelings, Secret Crushes, Soft Romance, Kiss
Disclaimer:
Subaru Kagami Has Dissociative Identity Disorder
Both Subaru Identities Love Reader
Reader Is Down Bad For Subaru
Subaru Kagami Is Soft
Subaru Kagami Needs A Hug
Words Count: 20,656
Note:
I originally wrote this for Subaru's birthday, but I completely forgot to post it because it was a holiday where I live at the time. I left the story unfinished for a while because I wasn't satisfied with the ending.
But then I had my graduation recently, and it somehow gave me the inspiration to finally finish this fic.
Also, I just watched Kokuho in my country and the movie was absolutely 🤌🏻💋
Masterlist
In your mind, Subaru, when he's in love, it is very subtle at first because he is actually very, very, very good at hiding his feelings and keeping secrets. You would never know he is even interested in you, let alone that he likes you. Yeah, there is no way. It sounds so ridiculous.
He treats you the same as everyone else, no difference. He is very polite around you, a bit cautious and careful, but so what? He is like that with everybody. You're not that special. At least, that is what you think.
But you don't know, you would never know, you cannot know, how his heart slightly beats off rhythm ever since you stepped into his life.
I would say that for Subaru to like you, it is not hard but not easy either. He keeps to himself a lot, so in order for him to warm up to you, you need to be around him often. Like working alongside him, doing tasks similar to what Haku does. So maybe you're one of those juniors whom Haku trusts with small duties around Hotarubi when he is unavailable because of missions. He also knows what Subaru is like, so he is very strict when choosing someone to handle tasks with Subaru while he is away. He might look chill and laid-back, but his standards are high.
So it is such an honor for you to be chosen to work by Subaru's side. You need to be thoughtful and perceptive enough for this job. So yes, of course you are fit for the role.
As for Subaru, at first he has doubts that a new face could help him because he has grown used to shouldering everything alone. On top of that, most general students do not want to be around him because of rumors, so he keeps his distance from them most of the time. Haku suddenly dragging a newcomer along indeed catches him off guard.
He might not hand you many tasks at first, as he feels like he would only be bothering you. So you would have to confront him, saying that you are here to work with him, not to idle around, so he better give you something real to do or you will tell Haku about this. Subaru apologizes several times before finally giving you proper work. And to his surprise, you complete everything with great precision and speed. You are also a quick learner.
Of course you are. Otherwise, why would Haku allow you to assist him, right?
So you remain by his side, working with him little by little every day. Following him around, asking if he needs help with anything, always reminding him to get some rest and eat his meals. You even remember his schedule, like when he has lunch with Lyca.
It is not something he is used to at first; it overwhelms him a little. But gradually he becomes accustomed to your presence, to the point that if you are not there or if Haku happens to be around instead, he feels slightly strange. Like some piece of his life has been misplaced. So before he even realizes it, his eyes are always following your path, searching for you in the sea of people, in the dorms, across the campus, around the garden.
Even among those blurry silhouettes beneath the heavy rain and the gloomy sky of Hotarubi, his gaze always seeks you out. And there might be a day when you accidentally drop something, maybe your hair clip falls, or your bowtie slips loose. He picks it up without thinking, and suddenly he notices you laughing with your friends. The way you try to catch up with lessons in class. How you enjoy every meal during the day. How you pat those chunky cats around campus, or sprinkle candies for the anomalies scattered throughout the school.
And especially the way you defend him when someone gossips behind his back.
He sees all of it. At first, he feels guilty and ashamed. Self-doubt and insecurity creep over him at the realization that, despite those nasty rumors, you still stand by his side and place your faith in him.
He wonders if you feel that way because you look up to Haku, or if it is because of him, or perhaps because you simply enjoy the position of assistant. He does not know, and at first he does not want to know the answer. But slowly, curiosity grows stronger. He becomes more interested in how you see him and what you truly think about him.
You never seem to lose your composure around him. Always proper and polite, just like he is. Yet somehow he notices that straightforward part of you, and it is endearing to him. And the way you become more casual when speaking with Haku, laughing, smiling, joking freely.
He wants that too. He wants you to feel that comfortable around him as well, and he hopes that he could someday be just as at ease around you. But he cannot. He would not dare to. He only hopes you will not get yourself tangled up with someone like him. So he chooses to keep your relationship strictly professional. And he doubts you even see him as anything more than your House captain. He cannot even call the two of you friends either way.
But Subaru didn’t know that you had always looked up to him ever since you arrived at Hotarubi, and once you learned that Subaru was your captain, you had always wanted to be able to help him. It’s a bit embarrassing, but you were a huge fan of his back when he was still on stage, so you were very sad when he left so suddenly. Maybe fate is that twisted, it let you meet him here at Darkwick.
Somehow, the person you thought you would never be able to meet is now right in front of you, sitting beside you so closely that your fingers could brush, yet both of you keep a proper distance as if crossing that line would turn the world into a catastrophe.
All you dare to do is steal a few glances at him. And that’s it. You have no further intentions or thoughts about him. At least, you try to convince yourself of that because you don’t think you and he even belong to the same world, even when you stand this close to him.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
It all happens on one quiet night, maybe not that quiet, because the rain drizzling across the garden makes it harder to fall asleep. Even though you have grown used to that sound, and it has practically become your white noise by now, it suddenly becomes so hard to sleep that night. So you wake up, standing in the hall and looking out at the garden. The soft rain blurs the scenery, purple petals fall with the raindrops, scattered across the landscape. You can barely see the moonlight because of the rainy veil. But you spot a silhouette in the distance.
It’s not abnormal for someone to be in the garden at this hour. The thing you don’t like about Hotarubi is that you can’t just walk freely around without getting soaked or drenched. Umbrellas become a bit too much of a hassle at times, so most students rarely use one anyway. But you don’t like being soaked, so of course you still use one. And even when the students are used to getting caught in the rain, they would never just randomly stand under it for no reason like that.
You don’t think much about it as you grab the umbrella by your doorstep and make your way through the rainy veil. Your slippers splash against the wet puddles on the ground, and with each step, the rain seems to grow heavier. It blurs the view ahead, and with darkness falling around you like velvet, you can’t make out who it is even as you draw closer.
“Hello,” you call out through the rain. Your voice seems to echo, disturbing the velvet of the night laced between the sound of the rainfall. “Are you okay?”
The silhouette turns slightly to face you, and once you stop in front of him, you recognize him. Isn’t this your House captain? What on earth is he doing out in the rain in the middle of the night? Without an umbrella too!
“C-Captain! What are you doing here?” you ask with concern and worry in your tone as you lift your hand a little higher, shielding him with your umbrella and blocking the cold drift of rain, though he is already soaked by now.
Your eyes meet his, and for a moment you are stunned by his expression. His eyes seem hollow, like every trace of soul and light has been sucked away from them.
Subaru Kagami, the star Kabuki actor, of course he would have a very attractive face. He looks like a porcelain doll, as if one touch from you could shatter him into pieces. His skin is white as snow and looks even paler now, maybe because of the cold, wet rain, to the point that even his lips seem to lose their color. And the beauty mark right under his eye looks as if it invites people to plant a soft kiss upon it. He appears like a masterpiece sculpted by angels themselves, to the point that sometimes you don’t dare to look directly into his eyes, because his face is too distracting for you to focus on your work.
And also because you’re afraid that if you stare at him a bit too long, even if only for a second, he would know exactly what is going on in your head: how your heart beats off rhythm and how you feel about him. You know that Subaru has a habit of not getting too close to anyone. He is very polite and proper but a bit too cautious, and you think it is because of the rumors surrounding him. But at the same time, you feel like he is avoiding something.
It isn’t as simple as him not liking people being too close. He just seems unwilling to come into contact with anyone or anything that belongs to someone else. Even when you hand him documents, you are very careful about it. And since Haku gave you a bit of a heads-up about that habit of his, you have taken note and even started wearing gloves, just in case that would help Subaru feel more comfortable around you.
You just think he may have some obsession with being clean and tidy, or maybe some mental struggle, though you don’t really know much about him. But still, you are careful when it comes to contact with him.
You look at his face, his hair sticking to the side of it. On usual days he is always so well-groomed and tidy that you are not used to seeing this messy side of him. And even when water is dripping from the strands of his hair to his forehead and spreading across his porcelain-like face, it still looks velvety and silky. For other people, being drenched in rain would turn them into a mess, but somehow the rain only brings out Subaru’s soft features even more. As if the rain itself loves him, falling and dripping on him like gentle kisses placed upon his features.
Your eyes widen and flicker with surprise. You want to help him wipe away the streaming water, but you don’t dare to, and you won’t, because that is definitely not what he would want you to do. So your hand only grips the umbrella handle tighter as you speak again.
“What are you doing out here?” you ask hesitantly, feeling awkward like this. But letting your captain stand under the rain doesn’t seem right either.
But tonight, Subaru is strange. His eyes remain hollow, yet slowly the corner of his lips curves upward faintly. It’s the soft smile you usually see on his face. But because his gaze is so lifeless, it makes the smile somewhat eerie. It’s like looking at an old painting, worn and faded under the rain. He just seems unreal in your eyes.
He doesn’t answer you right away, letting the silence fall between you as his gaze lifts toward the dark, rainy sky again.
“It sounds pretty, don’t you think?” he finally says, not answering your question but drifting to something else entirely.
You are confused by his odd behavior, but you still follow his gaze. The only thing you see is pitch-black darkness and raindrops hitting the rooftop, along with the rustling of wind and leaves.
And he doesn’t say anything further. He simply becomes unusually quiet. Normally, Subaru isn’t much of a talker, but he would still try to make small conversation. Now, he just doesn’t seem to mind the fact that someone has caught him standing under the rain in the middle of the night. You see the rain soaking through his shirt. You really want to pull him inside quickly, afraid that he might catch a cold, but you don’t dare to touch him at all. You don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you.
But his odd behavior somehow makes you feel uneasy tonight.
“You should go inside, Captain,” you say quietly, trying to soften your voice because you don’t know what is on his mind and you don’t want to sound like you are nagging. “You might catch a cold…”
But he only lets out a soft chuckle at your words as he answers you, his gaze still fixed on the sky, and you can’t quite see his expression because of the shadows on his face.
He doesn’t seem to listen to anything you say as he suddenly asks,
“Why are you out here this late at night?”
And only now do you notice that Subaru, who is usually polite and always uses honorifics when speaking to you, no longer does so. You don’t question it much because he is older than you after all, but it is still odd because Subaru is usually very careful when it comes to speaking with others. You are unsure whether he truly wonders why you are here or if he just doesn’t want to go inside and is trying to avoid the subject.
“... I couldn’t sleep,” you answer honestly as he turns his face slightly toward you. “You can’t sleep either, Captain?”
You ask more quietly and gently, trying to ease whatever might be weighing on his mind.
And even that small movement makes you jump a little because it seems too stiff, like he is a puppet whose joints are being moved by someone else. You have to tiptoe a bit to shield him properly under the umbrella, and you feel a small patch of wetness and cold on the side of your shoulders as some rain drizzles onto your jacket.
Even though he doesn’t show much expression, somehow his presence alone is enough to scare you in a way. It feels like he isn’t himself, as if he were someone else entirely. Like something has possessed him somehow. But what do you know about Subaru anyway? Besides him being your captain and the fact that you help him with tasks, you have no idea who he truly is or what he hides beneath that cautious and proper exterior.
“Yes, I also couldn’t fall asleep.” His voice is soft, but it carries something unnatural within it. “It sings for me…”
He continues, and each word he says only makes you more confused.
“What?” you ask without thinking, though he doesn’t seem to mind your question.
“The rain, the wind, the leaves, and the flowers,” he says as his eyes wander across the garden before eventually settling on you.
“And you.”
You don’t quite understand his words as you look at him. You? Sang for him? Or did he mean something else about why you couldn’t sleep? You don’t know anymore as you look at the man standing before you. And only now do you realize how tall he actually is. You have grown used to seeing Subaru standing among other people, so he never seemed that tall compared to many of them. But now that only you are standing beside him and this close, you finally realize how his shadow can loom over you.
Subaru’s eyes quickly glance toward your shoulder as he notices the raindrops seeping through the fabric, and he suddenly leans down slightly.
“You should go back inside,” he says, his eyes narrowing a little. He seems displeased by how you rushed out here without enough layers to protect you from the cold, as if he isn’t the one standing soaked under the heavy rain. “It’s cold out here,” he adds, a bit more sincerely.
You are confused by how quickly his mood and subject have changed, making him hard to follow. But you still stand there in place while looking up at him.
“What about you, Captain?” you ask as you watch the raindrops slide along the side of his long, slender neck like crystals on a blank snowy canvas. “Shouldn’t you come inside too?”
Even though you are scared by his odd behavior, you still worry about him.
You don’t want him to collapse outside in this garden under the rain and have someone discover his corpse in the morning, especially when you are already standing right in front of him. But your words don’t seem to reach him as he doesn’t answer, just staring down at you coldly.
His look is so sinister that you don’t understand it at all. As if the one in front of you is some wicked void that has taken the shape of your sweet captain to lure you into its trap and devour you at any moment. And living in Darkwick, you doubt that such a thing would be impossible. But even though you don’t know much about Subaru, you can still tell that the man in front of you is indeed him, not some creature that has taken his appearance. Still, the way his presence feels makes it seem as if he could disappear at any moment, blurring and dissolving into the rainy veil.
You can’t think of any other option, so you reach your free hand out and softly tug on the sleeve of his shirt, now damp with rain, unsure how he will react to your action. Even the hand gripping the umbrella has a sweaty palm as you look up at him.
“Can you come back inside with me…” You pause for a moment as your voice comes out low and hesitant, a bit awkward as well as you wonder if you are crossing a line. “Please…” you add, thinking it might be better to say that as his eyes bore into your soul.
He doesn’t answer you just yet as his hand suddenly reaches out to grab the umbrella in your hand. His slender, long fingers curl around yours as well, making your eyes widen at the sudden action. You feel his skin against yours, the smooth palm covering your hand, wet and cold. It almost feels unrealistic for human skin. His hollow eyes remain on you, and the soft smile curves on his lips again as he speaks.
“Let me hold the umbrella then.”
You only nod as you slip your hand away, still stunned by his action. You try to keep your distance while the two of you walk back to the dorm, but the cold rain hitting your shoulder pulls you back to your scattered thoughts. Before you can process anything, you feel Subaru’s hand around your shoulder. Your attention shifts back to him as he pulls you a bit closer, not close enough to touch him, but close enough to be properly shielded under the umbrella.
You think he shouldn’t worry about your condition but more about himself, yet you still murmur a small thank you to him. Once you both step inside the hall, the puddles the two of you leave behind make quite a mess. You don’t think much about it as you quickly scramble to your room and grab a towel for him.
“You should dry yourself, Captain,” you say as you hand him the towel.
He takes it, his fingertip brushing yours softly. He still smiles at you, though he doesn’t seem to use it at all. You grow a bit worried at his slow movements while drying himself as water continues to drip from his clothes.
“Don’t call me that,” he suddenly says, something that doesn’t relate to what you were saying at all.
You look at him in confusion as Subaru steps a bit closer to you, leaning down so that his face comes nearer, making you almost take a step back as you straighten your posture.
“Subaru is fine,” he continues as his piercing gaze seems to crack open your skull. “Isn’t that what you always call me in your head?”
“W-what?” you ask as your voice trembles slightly, your hands clenching at your sides as he lets out a small laugh.
It echoes so uncannily in the small space between you that you wonder whether he has known about your little crush on him all along. Your heart beats so loudly it almost jumps out of your chest as your gaze flickers toward him.
But he doesn’t press the matter further. Instead, you see him drape the towel over his head, covering almost half of his face. The dim light from your room casts across the side of his face, making him look even more uncanny now.
“Can you help me, please?” Suddenly he uses honorifics again as he leans down to your level, gesturing for you to help him dry his hair with the towel placed on top.
You freeze in place when you hear his request. You hesitate, wondering why he asks you that or whether you should do it. But soon you lift your hand and slowly, softly help him dry his hair.
Your palm rests on the edge of the towel as you gently rub his hair dry. It’s the first time you have helped someone with this, so your movements are a bit clumsy and unsure. And because that person is Subaru, you just seem to want to be even more gentle with him. It’s not that you see him as fragile, but rather because… you like him. Who wouldn’t want to be gentle with the person they like? You don’t want to hurt him, so you are extra careful while drying his hair.
Until the water seeps into the fabric of the towel, until the drops stop falling from his hair. His eyes remain on your face the whole time, making you incredibly nervous under his gaze. You have to focus on what you are doing and avoid looking into his eyes so your hands won’t start shaking.
But his hand catches your wrist, so gently and softly, yet his grip is tight enough to startle you as you meet his gaze again.
“You’re being very nice to me,” he says. The words roll off his tongue casually, but you can hear another hint within them.
Is he… sulking?
But he told you to do that.
“I- I… you asked me to help you,” you try to argue as his smile fades.
And he looks at you so coldly that his gaze makes you shiver. It almost feels like the person in front of you isn’t him. You have never seen Subaru’s gaze look so cold, nor his thoughts so impossible to read. You swallow and remain quiet because those rumors begin to swirl in your mind as you wonder…
“You will do anything I ask you to?” he asks. His voice is still eerie, but there is a subtle hint of coldness within it.
The wind breezes through, the cold night air seeping beneath your skin, through the fabric of your clothes, laced with his voice as you almost tremble.
“You’re my captain…” you answer quietly. “I’d do what you need within my capabilities.” You don’t think much about your words because that is what you promised Haku when he chose you to help Subaru while he is unavailable.
Which means both of them entrusted you with this duty in some way. And you take your job seriously. You don’t want to let them down when they have placed such trust and faith in you. So of course you would try your best to do whatever Subaru needs within your ability. It wasn’t a lie.
But suddenly, the man in front of you lets out a laugh, a small giggle that sounds so eerie you can’t help but shiver. The way the floorboards creak beneath your feet only adds to the unsettling atmosphere. The towel still covers part of his face, making it hard for you to see his expression.
“Anything… anything…” he repeats in a murmur as you don’t know what to say. His grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers cold against your burning skin.
You try to slip away, but he doesn’t give you the space to do so as his gaze lands on your face again.
“You shouldn’t say that to anyone, especially not to a man,” he tells you, his eyes shifting slightly as he looks into yours, like you finally catch a faint glimmer of light returning within them. But it lasts only a brief second before they turn hollow again.
His words travel coldly into your ears as he doesn’t give you a chance to respond before continuing.
“It means that I could do anything I want to you.”
His face leans closer to yours as he says that, his forehead slightly bumping against yours. You can feel his breath on your skin brushing past the tip of your nose. You feel his scent filling your lungs, surrounding you. Cold water drips from his face down the nape of your neck, slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, making you shiver at the icy touch.
His hand slides up and gently caresses the side of your face. Even though you are scared of the man in front of you, you can’t help wanting to lean closer to his touch. Because he touches you so tenderly, so softly, as if you are some delicate flower in his hands. And the way his gaze flickers across your face, even though they remain hollow, you somehow still see a hint of softness behind his eyes.
He presses his forehead quietly against yours when he sees you don’t push him away. For a moment, you hear him exhale a soft breath of relief? Of satisfaction? You don’t know. But being in contact with you seems to satisfy him in some way.
You have never had any physical contact with Subaru before. You have always kept your distance. Even when handing him objects, there were always layers of gloves between the two of you.
This is the first time you have ever been this close to him. And he seems bolder with his touches than you ever imagined. You always viewed him as a proper person who kept to himself. You would never have imagined he would caress you with such affection.
His soft fingertip brushing against your cheek pulls you back from the thoughts running through your mind.
“Ca- Subaru…” you call for him, but he seems lost in his own world as his lips curve into a soft smile once more.
You feel heat rising from the back of your neck to your face, and you are sure you must look incredibly foolish in his eyes right now. Your mind practically malfunctions as you try to distract him.
“You’re soaked from the rain. You should go inside and dry yourself first,” you say a bit too quickly, stumbling over your words.
But he shakes his head slightly with a soft chuckle before leaning even closer. His voice drips like a whisper near your ear, making you shiver. You can feel his breath brushing against the tip of it.
“You shouldn’t invite anyone into your room like that.”
Your face grows even hotter at his words as you slip your wrist away from his grip, but he holds you firmly in place again. Your heart pounds loudly as your eyes meet his. His gaze is still hollow and unreadable.
For a moment that feels like eternity, he suddenly lets you go, stepping away from your space. He removes the towel from his head and hands it back to you. Your hand catches it instinctively.
“You should go back to sleep,” he says as he slowly turns and walks away.
Your gaze follows him, but you remain frozen in place. Your mind cannot comprehend what just happened as his silhouette gradually blends into the dark, endless hallway before disappearing from your sight.
His voice still seems to echo eerily in the air as your heart beats so loudly that you can’t even hear the rain anymore. The tip of your ear, the side of your face, the skin of your wrist, everywhere his touch lingers, everywhere you feel burning.
You stumble backward slightly until your back hits the wall behind you, and you slide down to the ground. Your heart beats so fast that you are afraid you might wake the whole dorm. You bury your face into the towel in your hands out of embarrassment.
WHAT IN THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
You wake up that morning remembering what happened last night. You barely got a wink of sleep after the encounter between you and Subaru, tossing and turning until almost sunrise before you were able to sleep a little. Your eyes must be red right now, with heavy eyebags from the lack of sleep.
You wonder if what happened last night was real or if it was all just some strange dream. So you pull yourself up and get ready for the day, trying to collect your breath and thoughts since you have to meet Subaru today anyway. It would be super awkward to mention last night, so you’re not sure how you are supposed to face him.
But to your surprise, Subaru behaves as if nothing happened. He still has that proper, polite smile, speaking with the same formality as usual and giving you the occasional soft smile. You almost bail your eyes out the whole time while listening to the tasks he gives you, spacing out a little. He doesn’t seem to remember what happened, or he is very good at pretending nothing happened. You can’t tell, because you can’t really read Subaru to begin with.
And you start questioning yourself, wondering if maybe everything you saw last night was just an illusion, a dream, or a hallucination because you dared to have a crush on your perfect, kind-hearted captain. So just like that, you stay quiet and never bring it up, simply playing the role of his assistant as always.
At least, things seem to flow normally until one night.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
You are staying up late reading documents and finishing your reports when you stand up and stretch, letting out a small yawn as you reach for some water. But it’s empty now, making you sigh to yourself.
Great. Now you have to go get some.
It’s pretty late and the night has fallen heavily. You’re not a fan of wandering around Darkwick at night, but making a quick trip to the common room isn’t that bad anyway. So you lift your heavy, tired steps to go get some water. It seems colder lately, so you grab your jacket before stepping out of your room.
You are greeted by a cold breeze that runs right through your skin, making you shiver. It hasn’t reached winter yet, but somehow the air always feels so cold at night in Hotarubi. So you walk through the dark hallway with the flashlight from your phone while checking WickHive. It’s just the same old stories as always, some scary ones, some gossip, some rumors. Hotarubi always has countless tales about spirits wandering around at night, scaring the hell out of most students. With the rainy nights adding to the creepy atmosphere, you understand why these stories spread so widely around campus.
To be honest, when you first arrived at Darkwick and lived in the dorm for the first time, you were a little scared. Most students in Hotarubi tend to keep to themselves. They rarely hang out at night, so the dorm always feels extremely quiet once evening falls, almost like no one lives here. Everyone tends to stay indoors. After all, the rain doesn’t really offer many opportunities for outdoor activities anyway. So there is only so much you can do.
But slowly you grow used to the atmosphere, and because you are too busy with your work and studies, you no longer pay much attention to the nights here. Though the sound of rain does grow on you after a while.
Once you arrive at the common room, you grab the jug and pour water into your bottle while looking around. It’s empty and clean because the students always tidy everything at the end of the day. A breeze drifts through the sliding door as you notice a hanten lying on the floor. It seems to disturb the tidiness of the room. So after you finish getting water, you crouch down and reach for the coat on the tatami floor. The fabric is soft, and a familiar scent fills your lungs.
Isn’t this… Subaru’s?
You wonder as you question why his jacket is here. He’s not the type to throw his belongings around randomly, and certainly not something that is part of his sleepwear.
Did he forget it here?
You don’t think much of it as you continue holding the jacket in your hands. Suddenly, you feel the urge to bury your face in it and inhale his scent, but you immediately curse yourself.
No, no, no, no!!! You are not that kind of creepy person. And you respect him far too much to do something like that.
But you don’t think clothes should be lying around on the floor like this, so you pick it up and fold it a bit neatly before taking it with you. Maybe you should give it back to him tomorrow… though it would be awkward if he asks how you knew it was his.
So you make your way back to your room. As you get closer, standing in the hallway and glancing diagonally toward the opposite corridor, you notice the silhouette of someone sitting under the soft light hanging from the ceiling. You wonder who would have the mind to sit out here at night.
Out of curiosity, your feet move as if they have a mind of their own, carrying you to the other side of the dorm. The closer you get, the more familiar that figure looks.
Isn’t that Subaru?
He is sitting on the engawa, with a traditional tea set placed neatly beside him. He must be enjoying some tea out here with the soft sound of rain. It isn’t something rare, most students do that here, but never this late at night. And they usually have company while enjoying the night together rather than sitting alone like this.
From a distance, you hear something that sounds like he is talking to someone. But you don’t see anyone else around, so you raise your eyebrows in confusion. Still, you step closer and notice that familiar floating doll sitting right next to him. He must be talking to it then, because as far as you know, only a few people on campus can communicate with that doll, and you don’t even know exactly what it is.
As if sensing your presence, the doll turns slightly to look at you before moving away from the spot, almost like it is running out of your sight.
Subaru seems confused by that as well, and he turns slightly before his eyes meet yours.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt you, Cap-” you start to say awkwardly, stopping midway when you see those same hollow eyes from a few nights ago staring back at you. Not the usual petal-like eyes your captain has, but the cold and eerie ones.
You see the way his lips curve slightly, stiff, yet soft at the same time and you freeze in place.
“It’s fine,” he answers, his voice blending with the soft sound of rain. “He was just accompanying me for some tea time,” he continues while keeping his gaze on you. “Would you like to join me?”
You could say no. Decline. Refuse. Then return to your room, to your bed, to your warm blanket. But for some reason you don’t. The way he speaks to you, the way he asks, it is strangely alluring. Like a spider slowly trapping you in its web. And before you realize it, you have already stepped closer.
As you kneel down, about to sit beside him, you notice that he is only wearing his yukata. The thin, soft fabric seems far too exposed under the cold air. You wonder if he doesn’t feel the cold at all, because his collar is slightly open, revealing his pale, delicate collarbone. You quickly look away out of awkwardness.
You gently drape the jacket in your hands over his shoulders before finally settling next to him.
“You could catch a cold…” you say, unsure of what else to add.
He lets out a soft smile as he pulls the jacket a little closer around himself.
“How kind of you,” he says in a low, quiet voice before beginning to pour you some tea.
His delicate, slender fingers hold the teapot while the cups clink softly. Your eyes focus on his movements. It’s not the first time you have had tea with him. He always prepares it for you and Haku during meetings, after all. But every time he does it, you find yourself wanting to watch more closely, as if everything he does fascinates you, even something as simple as breathing.
He sets the cup in front of you. Without thinking much, you pick it up and take a small sip. You’re not a fan of tea that is too bitter, and if tea tastes too strong, sometimes it means the person making it doesn’t have the right technique, at least, that’s what you learned from Subaru. But most tea he makes never tastes too bitter or strong. He always uses a type that helps with sleep.
As if he knows you can’t really drink most other kinds.
But maybe you’re imagining things, because he seems to struggle with sleep himself. Maybe it simply comes from his own preference.
Since then, you have mostly only drunk tea he makes, though you rarely drink tea anyway.
As if Subaru notices the way your eyebrows relax slightly, he speaks softly.
“I hope it suits your taste,” he says gently, his voice warmer than the tea cup in your hands. “It will help you sleep better.”
You’re not usually someone who has trouble falling asleep, though lately you haven’t been sleeping well. You look at the man in front of you and wonder who he really is. Is he truly Subaru? And why does he act so differently during the day? Is he trying to trick you somehow?
“Thank you. It tastes great,” you answer quietly. “But… I don’t really lose sleep that often…”
Maybe he does, though.
Raindrops fall softly from the rooftop as the wind drifts through. A heavy drop lands on a fragile petal that gently falls into the still surface of the tea in your cup.
Your gaze follows the purple petal resting quietly there.
Such a fragile thing, yet able to disturb the still surface.
His gaze also drops to the cup in your hands.
“What an unfortunate thing, isn’t it?” he suddenly says.
Your eyes flick back to him before you realize he is talking about the petal in your tea.
“…Why would it be?” you ask quietly.
He only smiles before shifting his gaze toward the rain-covered garden again, and you follow his line of sight.
Whenever you follow his gaze, it always feels like you’re staring into a void, an endless darkness blurred behind the rainy veil. Yet he watches as if there is a world of wonder hidden there.
“It disturbs the peace and perfection, don’t you think?” he answers while still looking toward the distant garden.
A soft breeze passes through the two of you, stirring his silky hair slightly and revealing more of the side of his face. You notice the beauty mark beneath his eye.
You have so many questions and so much confusion about him, yet you don’t know where or how to begin. So you remain quiet, lowering your gaze back to your cup.
“No matter how beautiful they are, something fragile like a petal will soon wither,” he continues.
“And no one will want to look at it anymore.”
You let his words sink in, wondering if he is simply talking about plants while more petals drift down through the soft wind.
“Well, I think they’re still beautiful regardless,” you reply while taking another sip from your cup, not minding the petal floating inside. “Imperfection is what adds to their charm.”
Because honestly, the first time you stepped into the Hotarubi garden, everything seemed beautiful to you, so beautiful that you were stunned for a moment. You had never seen such a spacious and lovely garden anywhere before, so of course you were thrilled to stay in a place like that.
But other than that, you never really noticed anything else here.
Because once you learned that Subaru was here, nothing else seemed as beautiful as him.
You remember the first day you saw him, walking through the hallway with the group of first-year students while the staff introduced the place. You noticed a figure standing in the garden under soft wisteria flowers, beneath an umbrella shielding him from the rain.
You saw someone who looked as if he was loved by the gods themselves, loved by the flowers, the rain, and the scenery around him. Everything else suddenly seemed dull and faded the moment you saw him. The noise, the petals, the rain, everything became background scenery that only highlighted his presence more and more.
His beauty made you think that every flower in that garden should feel ashamed.
Even when he wasn’t shining like a colorful, glorious blossom, he somehow still became the most striking flower in the garden.
You were so stunned to see Subaru that closely that by the time you realized it, the group of students had already moved on, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. As a result, you got lost while trying to find the common room until Subaru noticed and offered to take you there.
Subaru’s eyes fall back on you slightly when he hears your words.
“Is that so…” he murmurs softly.
Yes, it is so.
Because your eyes have always been captured by him, and you don’t really care about anything else. No matter how beautiful other things are, they still cannot compare to what you see in him.
Whether the flowers wither or not, it is simply the natural cycle of life.
And to you, nothing in this world is perfect. Even a crack, a dot, or a splash can become something distinctive in someone. A highlight that brings out everything more. And those who don’t realize how much charm they hold must not truly understand the effect they have on others.
Imperfection is part of the nature of the world, and it is not something to be ashamed of. Instead, it is something each person carries.
You let out a soft breath, the gentle scent of tea lingering in your lungs. The man beside you remains silent for a moment.
“Do you think a petal could disturb any moment in life?” you ask, wanting to understand him a little better, how he thinks and how he views the world.
He lets out a soft chuckle that tickles your ears and makes your heart beat a little faster as you take another sip of tea.
He doesn’t answer your question, leaving you wondering if he finds your words naive. You don’t really know.
But you feel exposed every time you speak to him, as if he can see everything you feel, even the deepest emotions hidden at the bottom of your heart, making it hard for you to face him properly.
Then he lifts his gaze to the dark night sky, as if waiting for something. He exhales softly while you sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye.
You feel like a thief.
Looking directly at him feels like beholding a treasure that God has hidden away, something no mortal eyes have the right to see. Yet you, an ordinary person, are allowed to witness this sight.
The corner of his lips lifts gently. His long eyelashes flutter slightly. His slender neck stretches upward as he tilts his gaze toward the rain.
And you notice a small beauty mark on his collarbone before quickly looking away again.
You see his delicate fingers take the cup from his side as he takes a small sip, so you follow him, also taking a small sip from your cup. The atmosphere is peaceful, as the stillness of the air just makes the night seem quieter despite the sound of rain.
But suddenly a strong gust of wind breezes up and catches you off guard. No warning, no heads-up at all. Just out of nowhere, the rain seems heavier, making the soft leaves rustle as petals scatter everywhere, covering the ground, and some blow into the hall as you lift your arm to block in front of your face, almost dropping the cup of tea in your hand before a cold hand catches it for you, wrapping his palm firmly around your hand as he keeps your cup from spilling.
When the wind finally stops, you pull your hand down and see that Subaru is right next to you now. He lets out a small smile as you wonder what is so funny. Was it because the wind caught your hair and left it so disheveled? He helps you take the cup away, placing it softly on the tray as you lift your hand, trying to smooth down your hair while wondering if you look like an idiot or silly in his eyes.
Embarrassed by the thought, you plan to turn away, but Subaru reaches out for you first. His hand gently smooths the hair on your head down. His delicate touch feels so soft as his fingers almost thread into your hair. Then he picks something out. Between his fingertips, you see a soft petal pressed gently against his pale skin.
Your face still burns as you glance away slightly.
“Do I look stupid?”
You ask, and he only lets out more laughter.
It rumbles through the rain to your ears and heart as you just want to bury yourself in the ground.
But then he speaks up. “No, it suits you,” he says as he lets the petal go. The wind picks up again, slightly blowing the soft petal away from his hand into the rainy night as it disappears behind the blurry veil.
You notice that on Subaru's hair there are also a few small petals resting neatly upon it. His hair is slightly disheveled too. But he still looks beautiful. Like a page that got flipped in an artist’s sketchbook. It might make the paint smudge a little, but the colors seep even deeper between the pages, creating such a vivid scene as you see the wisteria petals pressed against his light brown hair. It creates a contrast that brings out his features, yet also suits him well. If anything, flowers just seem to add even more to his beauty, blurred behind the veil of rain as he softly smiles at a few petals falling into the palm of his hand.
And in that moment of daze, you quietly speak up.
“It suits you too.” And you can feel the burning sensation creeping down to your neck.
His eyes flicker back to you as you quickly clear your throat to break the awkwardness and avoid the topic any further. You are afraid that if you stay longer, he might be able to read your mind.
“Thank you for the tea. I’ll return to my room now,” you say to him, a bit too politely, as his eyes remain on you.
And to break the silence, you add, “You should rest soon too… it’s already late.”
You stand up, about to leave. About to run away from his stillness and piercing gaze. But when you turn away, you hear a quiet voice behind you.
“Good night, Wisteria.”
It catches you off guard for a moment as you turn back slightly, but his gaze is already back on the rainy night, so you only murmur a good night in return.
You then head back to your room, almost running and scrambling inside as you worry your heart might beat too loudly, and that if you stayed one more moment he would hear everything. You slide the door closed behind you.
You flop down onto your blanket and silently scream into the pillow.
He’s definitely not your captain. Or is he?
You don’t know anymore. He doesn’t seem like a stranger to you, but he definitely didn’t behave like your captain.
Does Subaru have some kind of personality identity disorder? You wonder. You don’t know anymore. You’re too tired to think as your eyelids grow heavy.
He was right. The tea does help with sleep. As seconds pass, you already fall deep into slumber.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
It was a normal day as you ran around doing tasks. With heavy boxes in your arms, you hurried down the hall. Of course, unable to see the path ahead, you almost bumped into someone, but you managed to stop in time, nearly falling over as you held the boxes tightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” you quickly said as you planned to continue walking away, but your eyes met a familiar pair of eyes.
“C-Captain.” You spoke up, almost biting your tongue, as it had been a couple of days since you last saw Subaru.
He had been on a mission lately, so you hadn’t really seen him on campus these past few days. His eyes widened, seeming surprised to see you too, before they quickly dropped to the heavy boxes in your arms.
“Sorry for running in the hall. I was in a hurry,” you tried to explain, feeling embarrassed for almost bumping into him.
Normally, he would awkwardly apologize to you too, even when he did nothing wrong, and then offer to help. But today something felt odd about him, as if he didn’t quite look you in the eyes. He averted his gaze slightly before speaking so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.
“I will help you with that.” He lifted the boxes from your hands with ease, and you didn’t even have time to stop him before he continued, “Where do you need them to be?”
So you answered him. “The storage room. It’s for next week’s festival.” Then he let out a small smile as he turned and walked away.
Noticing you were still standing in place, he turned slightly. “Are you not coming?” he asked as you shook your head, then nodded, then shook it again.
“Y-yes, I am.” And you quickly followed him until you were walking side by side down the hallway.
“Is it okay? I heard you just came back from a long mission,” you spoke up as you felt a bit uneasy letting your captain do your work when you were supposed to be here to help him, not the other way around, as you looked up at him.
“It’s fine,” he said as he continued to look forward. His tone sounded concerned and worried. “I’m sorry for the overflow of workload…” he spoke so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.
“I’m here to help you, Captain,” you answered him almost immediately, sounding a bit defensive as you cleared your throat. “Sorry… I mean, this is my job too. I don’t find it overwhelming at all.”
He let out a soft smile before continuing. “That’s good to hear.” He paused for a moment as the light hit the side of his face just right, making him look like an angel. “But you should get some rest sometimes too.”
It sounded casual, with no deeper intention behind it, so you didn’t really think much of it. But you spoke up anyway.
“You too, Captain.” You hesitated for a moment as his face seemed indifferent. “Did you… sleep well lately?”
You saw the way his hands gripped the boxes tighter. His shoulders stiffened as he was clearly caught off guard by your sudden question. He didn’t answer right away, and his gaze stayed straight ahead.
“Yeah, I sleep well…” he answered. There was no hint of confidence behind it, making you feel a bit skeptical.
He might not really have been sleeping well. Does that mean the “Subaru” you met at night was him sleepwalking? Can sleepwalking people wander around and talk so clearly like that? You don’t know anymore. You have a lot of questions in your mind, but you don’t know whether you should ask him. And… you might not want to know the truth.
Because why on earth would he behave that way toward you but act like nothing happened the next day? Because he’s embarrassed? Awkward? Or did he find it amusing?
You don’t know. You really don’t. He makes you so confused, but at the same time you can’t blame him. You don’t even know if he understands what is going on with himself anyway.
And as if he could sense the sudden shift in your mood, his gaze shifted to you in worry, his voice quiet with concern.
“Are you not sleeping well lately?” he asked, and you could sense a faint hint of care in it. But it was so subtle you wondered if you were just imagining things.
You hesitated for a moment, but then decided to answer honestly. “You could say so…” You chose your words carefully. “I wake up in the middle of the night a lot.”
“Maybe some tea could help you fall asleep better?” he said, though it sounded more like a question, a suggestion, or an offer.
You weren’t sure. But it reminded you of what happened the other night, when you sat beneath the roof, staring at the rainy night while sharing some tea with him.
“Maybe…” you murmured. “Do you often drink tea before you sleep?” you asked again.
You wouldn’t say you’re the talkative type. You usually only talk while working because you need to communicate and exchange information with him. Other than that, Subaru is usually very quiet too, so the two of you tend not to talk much outside of work and rarely share personal things. Which sometimes makes small conversations awkward. But today, you didn’t feel that way. Somehow you felt more relaxed asking him certain questions.
“Ah, that… sometimes I do,” he answered quietly, and you noticed the subtle stutter in his words.
You wondered what made him so awkward about the question, so you added another one.
“With Saburo?”
You asked it casually, but he suddenly stopped walking, and you stopped too as you looked at him.
For a brief moment, you saw the light in his eyes drain away, but it was only a fleeting second, too quick to tell whether it was real or just your imagination.
“I’d drink with Saburo… but he can’t really drink… so technically I’m drinking alone,” he answered your question with a subtle smile before continuing to walk ahead, and you followed him again. Somehow his voice sounded lonelier than before, though you couldn’t quite explain why.
This time his pace seemed quicker, as if he wanted to reach the storage room as fast as possible while you continued walking beside him.
“Can I join you then?” you asked impulsively, even as you wanted to clap a hand over your mouth.
His eyes widened at your question as you started cursing inside your head. Oh God. If he said no, you’d definitely drown yourself in the lake. And if he said yes? You might die from hyperventilating.
He seemed stunned and surprised for a moment, stopping again with wide eyes. But soon he collected himself and looked at you.
He seemed stunned and surprised for a moment, stopping again with wide eyes. But soon he collected himself and looked at you.
“O-of course you can join me,” he answered, and for a moment you thought you sensed a subtle hint of excitement in his tone. But Subaru usually didn’t show much emotion through his words, so you weren’t really sure.
The two of you continued walking as you got closer to the storage room.
“Then if you need someone to drink with, you can text me, Captain,” you said, and he let out a small laugh.
As if he were truly happy. His laughter was so bright you almost felt like covering your eyes and kneeling in front of him. You watched the strands of his hair move softly as his laugh rumbled gently in his chest, and the way the light seemed to kiss the features of his face somehow made you jealous. You wished you were that soft light that got to touch his face too.
Suddenly, a wind picked up, scattering the petals outside as they flew chaotically everywhere. It disheveled the strands of Subaru’s hair as he closed his eyes slightly at the sensation. The wind felt fresh and carried the floral and rainy scent of the garden as those wisteria petals blew into the hallway, lightly covering the floorboards.
You blinked until the wind finally died down, lifting your gaze again. Seeing those soft petals resting so neatly on his silky hair, and the way he looked slightly dazed by the sudden wind, made your hand reach out before your mind could think. You helped him pick the petal off.
Even Subaru was surprised by your action, his eyes widening. Only then did you realize what you had done.
Oh fuck. His hair was so soft, just like you imagined. You cursed desperately in your mind as you felt the heat creep from the back of your neck up to your face. You didn’t know what to say, the words were stuck in your throat.
You saw clearly the pink hue slowly spreading across Subaru’s face. It seeped into the pale skin of his cheeks, making him look like a soft cherry blossom petal. His cheeks turned such a bright pink that you couldn’t help finding him adorable.
But it was so awkward, and you were so embarrassed that you quickly took the boxes from his hands.
“T-that- I-I will take it from here! Thank you for your help, Captain.” You suddenly spoke a bit too loudly. “Have a nice day.”
Then you turned and walked away.
No, you ran away. You didn’t even look back to see how he reacted. He didn’t seem to have recovered or processed anything yet either way, so you took the opportunity to rush off, escaping that embarrassing atmosphere as you cursed yourself for acting so impulsively.
How dare you? How dare you touch him?! How dare you touch Subaru?
And his hair, damn, his hair felt like a soft cloud, but no, no, no, no.
What have you done?!
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Days simply flowed by as usual until one night when you returned to Darkwick a bit late. You had an R&R permit to visit home for a short while and tried to get back as soon as you could, or else Haku would be buried in paperwork along with Subaru.
With a heavy sigh, you stretched after the long day and walked down the hallway toward your room. As you passed by the common room, you noticed soft light spilling outside. Strange, normally no one stayed in the common room this late at night. Out of curiosity, you peeked through the crack of the sliding door and saw Haku inside with that familiar doll.
Although you didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, there were a few things you needed to discuss with him. So you slid the door open wide, startling Haku a bit. His eyebrows lifted, but once he saw you, the tension eased.
“Oh hey, you came back so late,” he said casually as you stepped into the room and sat down opposite him.
“Yeah, I thought it would be quick, but it took longer than I expected,” you answered, tiredness clear in your tone. You nearly melted onto the table in front of you, burying your face against it as you let out an exhausted sigh.
He chuckled at the sight of your fatigue as you rested your head on the table. The only reason you could be so relaxed around Haku was that he carried a laid-back atmosphere, yet he always gave advice whenever you needed help. And yes, of course you admired and respected him in certain ways. You viewed him somewhat like an older brother.
So maybe that was why you could loosen up around him a bit.
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said.
“Easier said than done,” you murmured quietly.
“Subaru said you haven’t been sleeping well lately?”
His sudden question made your mind go completely clear.
If you had a tail, Haku would literally see it shoot straight up the moment you heard Subaru’s name. He chuckled slightly, startled by your reaction. Of course, he wouldn’t know the reason. You had been very careful. Even if someone noticed anything, they would probably just assume you admired Subaru’s face and most students on campus did that because he was indeed very beautiful.
As for Haku… tsk. This man always acted so unbothered, but you knew he was sharper than he let on. That was why you had been extremely careful around the two of them, to the point that your relationship with Subaru was strictly professional and work-related.
That was all.
But hearing that Haku mentioned Subaru talking about you somehow made you feel a little happy.
“He told you that?” you asked, lifting your gaze toward the man sitting across from you.
“Yeah. He mentioned a few things, saying he might have pushed too much work onto you.” He leaned back, stretching with his hands behind his neck.
“Didn’t he say the same things about you?” you raised your eyebrows and threw the question back at him. “He always thinks he overwhelms us.”
Haku let out a small smile as he explained, “He’s like that, but he’s the one overwhelming himself.”
Haku’s comment made you fall quiet for a moment. Normally, what would they do to relax or entertain themselves? Especially when Darkwick was so strict about R&R permits. You drifted off into your own thoughts until Haku called your name. It sounded blurry in the background until he flicked your forehead, making you groan as you rubbed the spot.
“Ouch!! That hurts.”
He let out a mischievous laugh as you continued rubbing the sting on your skin.
“Because you were so lost in your own world, princess,” he said between laughs.
You rolled your eyes at his words, but before you could talk back, the door suddenly slid open again, aggressively. It startled you so much that you almost jumped from your seat as both you and Haku turned toward the doorway.
Subaru was standing there with a tray of tea in his hands. His eyes looked unusually cold, his expression unreadable, and somehow a chill ran down your spine. You stiffly sat up straight the moment you noticed him, unable to stop the nervousness rising within you as your palms grew sweaty.
“Captain, why are you here so late?” you asked as Subaru stepped into the room.
“Ah, Subaru and I planned to have some tea. Since you’re here, why don’t you join us?” Haku said casually, as if the decision had already been made. Declining would feel rude, so your gaze shifted to Subaru’s face.
“Well… if you two don’t mind.”
You spoke carefully as Subaru gave a soft smile before settling into his seat and placing the tray onto the table.
“I don’t mind. You asked to join the other day too,” he said quietly and gently. Yet somehow it sounded slightly bitter or sour compared to his usual tone, which scared you a little.
For a moment, you had thought the one who opened the door so aggressively was the other “Subaru,” not your captain.
You sat properly in your place the entire time the three of you shared tea. Subaru had also brought some sweet snacks for you to try. The three of you talked late into the night, with Saburo sitting beside you.
And that night, you were able to sleep very well too.
Was Subaru some kind of sedative for you?
You didn’t know. But his kindness somehow lulled you into a peaceful sleep, and you stopped thinking about it any further.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Though the very next night, when you were in your room, the wind suddenly picked up and blew the papers on your table everywhere. You rushed to close the window, but a loud thunderclap struck as lightning spread across the sky. The sudden flash made you close your eyes, if only for a brief second.
When you opened them again, right outside your window, a porcelain-pale familiar face was there.
You almost screamed out loud as he appeared out of nowhere.
It was Subaru. Once again, he was standing in the rain without any umbrella. The rain drenched his silky hair. You couldn’t make out his expression clearly as half of his face was buried in the dark.
You called out, “Subaru?” so quietly and uncertainly as the man stood there.
As if he wasn’t real. As if he were just a doll, a puppet that could only move when someone controlled him.
Slowly, you saw him step closer to your side. The light pouring from your window cast over his delicate face as raindrops fell from the tips of his hair onto his smooth skin, traveling and kissing each feature they passed.
You wondered how you could tell it was him just by the silhouette. But then again, who else would suddenly appear in the middle of the night, standing in the rain like that? It would scare you even more if it were someone, or something else.
You panicked when you saw his damp hair and the water streaming down his face. Rushing to grab a towel, you covered his head.
“W-why are you in the rain again?!” You almost wanted to lecture him, but then again, what right did you have? And you wouldn’t dare to anyway.
Subaru gazed up at you as if he were enjoying your caring hands helping him dry the cold dampness from his hair, his face, his skin. His eyes never left yours, making you slightly nervous. Your hands tried to be as gentle as possible as you ruffled through his soft hair with the fabric.
“Did you enjoy the tea I brewed?”
His question came so suddenly that you were caught off guard.
“Yes…” Though it wasn’t exactly him, was it? Or was it your captain? Was it Subaru?
Which was which?
You could tell they were the same person, but at the same time they felt like different people. Did your captain never remember what Subaru did? Because he always seemed so normal and casual around you when morning came.
Which made you wonder… who exactly was he?
The cautious, kind-hearted, soft-spoken captain.
Or the eerily cold and somehow hard-to-read Subaru standing in front of you now.
Which one was the real him?
“Who… are you, exactly?” you asked hesitantly, almost murmuring as the sound of rain blurred your voice.
But Subaru caught it.
His lips curved into a smile. A soft one at first, but it slowly grew deeper, making you wonder what he held beneath that mask.
“I am whoever you want me to be,” he said quietly, his voice like a soft melody reaching your ears.
But somehow it made your shoulders shiver.
Your hands stopped as you pulled away slightly from his hair to look at his face more clearly. The light flickered, yet somehow his eyes reflected none of it, not even the faintest glow.
You placed your hands on the edge of the window, hesitating for a moment, unsure who exactly stood in front of you.
But his hand reached out, resting on the window frame as well. His fingertips hovered softly against your skin. They were so cold and smooth that you almost wanted to tell him to come inside.
But you weren’t sure whether you should or whether he would listen.
“Do you want me to be that goody-two-shoes captain you so adore?” His question made your pupils dilate as your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.
As if it weren’t some secret you had buried deep in your heart, but an open page in a book he had read countless times.
“Or do you want me to be that Kabuki star you admire so much?” he continued, his low voice prickling your skin.
“Or… are you afraid of me?” he added.
The question carried a trace of sadness, but also a subtle warning beneath it.
You thought carefully about what he asked.
Yes, you liked Subaru. At least, that was what you thought. But in reality, what did you even know about him? He never shared much with anyone. You certainly didn’t seem important or special in his life either.
But this Subaru… the one standing in front of you now…
He made you feel seen. Exposed. Known.
As if he knew exactly what was inside your mind.
But maybe he was just having a fleeting moment of boredom, and you happened to pass by. Just another insignificant, meaningless detail in his life.
Was Subaru that kind of person?
And were you afraid of him?
At first, maybe his strange behavior startled you a bit. But he had never hurt you, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so.
So why should you be afraid?
You stayed quiet for a moment before answering.
“No. I’m not.”
Your eyes flickered across his face, trying to read any expression, but you found nothing. You wondered if he was skeptical of your answer.
“I just want… to know you better.”
Not as a mask. Not as a student. Not as a captain.
You just wanted to know Subaru. What was on his mind. What his smile would look like when he was truly happy.
“He could be a nasty person you don’t know…” his voice drifted through the cold air again, and you let the words sink in.
Subaru, a nasty person?
You had never really imagined that. And you wondered why he viewed himself that way.
Feeling his fingertip against yours, you hesitantly tugged your finger slightly against his.
He didn’t pull away. He only let out a soft smile.
“What do you consider nasty, then?” you asked the man in front of you as his fingers lifted slightly, teasing your fingertips. The sensation somehow tickled, tickling its way straight into your heart.
“This man…” he answered slowly. “He’s extremely jealous.”
“And jealousy,” he continued, “is such an ugly feeling, isn’t it?”
His question wasn’t really asking for an answer. He didn’t give you time to process it.
“You don’t know what he has in mind every time he sees you laughing with other people,” his voice sounded distant and dazed.
“Or how he feels about you.”
He slid his hand to hold yours.
So lightly, almost hovering, as if you were something delicate he was afraid of breaking. His thumb brushed featherlight across the back of your hand.
“You’d be disgusted… hoping he would stay away from you.”
It sounded like a warning. His voice was firm now, and his eyes narrowed sharply as if they could pierce your soul.
“…I will decide that myself.”
You didn’t take long to answer.
But Subaru only let out a small, eerie laugh. His shoulders shook slightly as he laughed, uncanny and almost manic, as it blended with the sound of the night rain.
He lifted his gaze back to you.
“I was created because that guy couldn’t accept or face who he truly is.” His voice was now filled with disdain and hatred as he pulled your hand into his.
“He is a coward. A pathetic loser who can’t even understand himself.”
Each word came out harshly, and you were surprised by how aggressive he sounded.
How could his voice carry such hatred and disgust when he spoke about your captain? As if he weren’t part of the same person, but some tumor he wanted to cut out.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the way he spoke.
“So, what do you feel now?” he asked. “Do you still think he’s such an angelic prince who will help you write your fairytale?”
His grip on your hand tightened until it hurt.
You tried to pull away slightly, but Subaru didn’t let you.
Your gaze flickered toward his face as he looked almost mad.
“Those rumors aren’t completely fabricated,” he reminded you, forcing your mind to stay on his words. “There’s a reason people say those things about me.”
You trembled slightly when he suddenly loosened his grip.
Before you could even process anything, he slowly let go and stepped away from you.
The light pouring from the window could no longer reach him as his figure was swallowed once more by the dark, silver veil of rain.
“I hope you sleep well tonight… again.”
And before you could call out to him, he had already turned and walked away.
His silhouette blended into the night as he moved through the rain, as if wandering without knowing where to go.
Like a lost soul drifting through the world.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
The next morning, when you arrived at the meeting, Subaru was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, other students said they had been calling him all morning, but he didn’t answer his phone or his door.
It seemed he hadn’t left his room the entire morning.
You wondered what had happened to him as you noticed Saburo in the corner. It was the doll that your captain and vice-captain had brought back from a mission. Ever since then, it had been wandering around campus as if it had a mind of its own.
You didn’t think much of it at first, but the doll kept floating around you in circles while you were working, as if it had something to say or show you. So you decided you should check it out a bit. As soon as you stood up, the doll dashed outside the room, and you followed it immediately.
Haku was occupied with some missions, so most of the work here was on your shoulders. Normally, he would be the one to call Subaru, but since he wasn’t available, no one really dared to barge into Subaru’s room to check on him.
You saw Saburo lead you down the hall, turning at corridors until you realized where it was trying to guide you. When you finally stopped in front of Subaru’s door, you looked at the doll as it continued to float around you.
“Do you want me to check on him?” you asked.
Saburo floated up and down as if approving what you said.
You were unsure what to do or what you should or shouldn’t do. You sat in a straight seiza position in front of his door, as if preparing for some kind of ceremony. Your heart beat loudly. You had never come this close to his room, let alone thought about stepping inside it.
“Captain,” you called quietly, but there was no answer after a moment.
The door remained closed as you called again. “You haven’t left your room since morning. Everybody is worried.”
The silence continued, and you began to feel uneasy as well.
“Subaru…” you called softly after a moment of hesitation. “Are you okay?”
Through the layers of the door, you heard a very small sound. If you hadn’t listened closely, you wouldn’t have caught it at all. But it was definitely Subaru. Maybe he was trying to answer you but couldn’t.
“Are you feeling unwell, Subaru?” you asked again, feeling even more uneasy.
Of course he would be. He had been standing in the heavy rain last night. You weren’t even sure if he had returned to his dorm immediately or continued soaking himself in the cold rain all night. You felt a bit guilty, maybe if you had insisted he go back to his room, he would have.
No. Who did you think you were?
Still, you couldn’t just leave him like this as you placed your hands on the sliding door.
“Excuse me for my rudeness,” you said before sliding the door open slightly. It creaked softly as light poured inside.
But you still couldn’t see anything clearly. It was so dark that you could only make out vague silhouettes in the shadows.
So you stepped inside and slid the door partly closed behind you.
His room was dark because no lights were on. Even with a little light slipping through the edges of the curtains, it still wasn’t enough to see properly.
You tried to make sense of the room as you carefully approached step by step. When you got closer to where he lay, you could hear his heavy, uneven breathing and the small uncomfortable whines slipping from him.
Reaching your hand toward the nearby table, you found a small lamp and turned it on. Soft, dim light spread through the space, allowing you to see him clearly.
His cheeks were flushed. Sweat had formed on his forehead, his hair slightly damp and sticking to the side of his face. His pale skin was now tinted with a deep pink hue. The collar of his yukata had slipped open too far as he struggled to breathe.
You removed the gloves from your hands, feeling slightly ashamed to touch him without his permission. But you didn’t know what else to do.
The back of your hand pressed gently against his forehead.
It was burning hot.
He had a very high fever.
It wasn’t unusual for someone to catch a cold after standing in the rain, but maybe because ghouls were stronger than normal humans, they tended to neglect their health a little, didn’t they?
You panicked at his condition and immediately rushed out to grab some essentials, medicine, a basin, a few small towels, water, and even some porridge for him to eat.
You instructed the other students to continue their tasks and informed Haku about Subaru’s condition, saying you would take care of the captain until Haku returned.
When you came back to the room, you noticed Saburo floating inside as well.
Subaru didn’t seem conscious enough to speak. You knelt beside his futon, dipping a towel into the basin and soaking it with fresh water. Wringing it out, you carefully pushed his hair aside and wiped away the sweat on his skin, from his forehead, to his face, and even his neck.
He let out a small whine, seeming to feel slightly more comfortable as the coolness eased the burning heat of his skin.
You gently turned his head to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck. Once you finished, you pulled the blanket neatly over him again.
“Subaru,” you called softly, unsure if he was conscious enough to eat anything or take medicine.
You had already texted the ghouls from Mortkranken, but none of them were available at the moment. And you weren’t even sure if Subaru would feel comfortable with just anyone touching him. What you had already done felt like a huge invasion of his space.
You would apologize later once his fever went down.
Luckily, Subaru slowly opened his heavy eyelids. They were still clouded and hazy from the fever, but he could see you sitting in front of him.
He quietly called your name.
You instinctively pulled your hands away a little.
“Do you think you can sit up to eat something?” you asked.
He seemed unable to fully comprehend the question, but he tried. His lips parted slowly.
“Yes…”
His answer was so weak you had to lean closer to hear it.
You carefully helped him sit up and adjusted the pillow behind him so he could lean more comfortably against the wall. He looked dazed, still unable to process things properly.
You doubted he could even hold a spoon right now.
You helped him drink some water, though even that dripped down the corner of his lips. You wiped the excess away with a tissue.
He coughed softly before trying to speak.
“Sorry…” The words came out with difficulty between heavy breaths. “For bothering you…”
You didn’t give him the chance to say more as you picked up the bowl of porridge from the tray.
“You should talk less and rest more.”
It came out a bit harsher than you intended but how could it not?
How could he neglect himself like this? How could that other Subaru let him become this sick? It was his body too, wasn’t it? As if he didn’t care about himself at all.
And it made you angry.
Subaru seemed surprised by your sudden firmness. He stayed quiet for a moment, perhaps ashamed, exposed and vulnerable under your gaze. Maybe he didn’t like being pitied.
But you weren’t pitying him.
You were honestly just angry.
And he could probably feel that if he reached out and touched you. But he didn’t.
He simply sat there quietly, watching you as you prepared to feed him with the spoon. His already flushed face deepened in color under the dim light as he spoke again.
“I- I can do that myself.”
But the trembling of his hands betrayed him.
“I’m here to help you,” you said quietly but firmly, meeting his gaze. “Let me help you.”
His petal-like eyes shimmered slightly through the cloudy haze of fever before he finally nodded.
You fed him slowly and carefully.
He couldn’t eat much because of his sore throat, but he still tried because you said he needed to take medicine afterward. So he obediently opened his mouth for each spoonful.
You wiped his mouth gently with tissue, and he didn’t stop you from doing anything.
But you could feel the faint tremble running through him.
Every small touch seemed to make his heart race even more.
You wondered if this was what that other “Subaru” meant, how Subaru truly thought about you and felt about you.
But you had no interest in taking advantage of someone who was sick. So you ignored the thought and focused on taking care of him.
Once he finished half the bowl of porridge, you placed it back on the tray and set the medicine in his palm along with a glass of water.
“Take your medicine. I’ll be right back.”
You spoke softly, almost as if speaking to a child. His dazed eyes stayed on you until you left the room with the tray.
When you returned, he had already settled back into his futon and taken his medicine. His breathing seemed more even now.
You knelt beside him again, soaking the towel in the basin before wringing it out. Your hand reached out to brush away the stray strands of hair from his forehead so it was more exposed.
Subaru’s eyes never left you.
And somehow it felt like an eternity had passed since you last saw the light in them.
You draped the damp towel across his forehead, the coolness easing his mind. Your fingertips brushed his skin lightly as you pulled your hand away.
Suddenly, his hand caught your wrist softly.
Your gaze shifted toward him.
“Do you need anything?” you asked.
He tried to shake his head but couldn’t.
“Stay with me… for a bit longer.”
His voice was so low, soft, and weak that your heart melted instantly. You couldn’t refuse.
You placed your hand gently on the blanket over his chest, patting it softly.
“I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay here until you feel better.”
You tried to reassure him.
His words had caught you off guard because for a moment you weren’t sure which Subaru had said them or whether he had finally decided to be honest with himself.
But it didn’t matter.
Whichever Subaru he was, you would still take care of him.
And he seemed relieved when he heard your answer.
His eyelids slowly closed again. His breathing became softer and steadier as the dim light brushed along the side of his face. His hair shimmered faintly under the warm glow as you gently patted him.
Until he finally fell asleep.
He slept for the rest of the day.
Haku returned later that evening and told you to get some rest while he took over. You wanted to stay longer, but you could feel the exhaustion settling deep into your bones.
You had hardly left Subaru’s room at all, worried he might wake up and not see you there.
So you felt relieved when Haku returned. He seemed to know what to do far better than you.
Still, he praised you and rubbed your head for taking care of everything while he was away.
Yet somehow, you still felt like you had done nothing at all.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
The very next day, Subaru had already recovered from his cold, his fever had cooled down. He felt better. So ghoul abilities are really different from humans. Most people with such a bad fever would take two or three days to completely recover. But he seemed as if he had never been sick. Once again, he returned to his routine and daily tasks. His face even grew more lively after that.
Though he personally came to say thank you, now so deeply while he knelt on the floor, he even gifted you some expensive tea and snacks to show his appreciation. You still felt like he was trying to ignore and avoid your gaze, and even more so, keeping his distance from you.
You didn’t press the matter either way, as you felt like you were in no right place to do so. So the two of you kept that awkward, professional relationship for a while, to the point that even the students around you could feel the tension and discomfort. They did not want to exchange too many words or tasks with the two of you, as they just seemed to want to run away, avoiding the heavy atmosphere.
As you thought your stiff relationship would continue like that forever, on one night when you were asleep in your room, comfortable under your blanket on your futon, you heard the soft creak of a floorboard, and it woke you up.
Someone must be walking down the hall, but it was so late now. You sat up from your futon as you looked at your door, only for lightning to strike at that moment and startle you a bit. It had been raining heavily lately in Hotarubi, which made the usual rain even worse.
But what startled you the most was that you could clearly see the silhouette, the shadow reflected outside your door, when the lightning struck. Like a ghost haunting your dream. If it were anyone else, they would be screaming, terrified, and wake up the whole building.
But because this was Darkwick, and you might have had a hint of who that was, you didn’t get scared at all. Lifting your blanket, you stood up, unlocked your door, and slid it open immediately, only to face Subaru right there. The familiar pale skin. His expression was still unreadable, with those hollow eyes. Fortunately, today he wasn’t soaked in the rain. He was very dry and seemed neat and clean. The only thing was that you somehow could smell the alcohol on him.
“Did you drink?” you asked, but the man didn’t answer you for a long time.
“Only a bit with Haku,” he answered quietly, his gaze flickering toward you.
You didn’t know what else to say as your gaze flickered back to him. He was dressed thinly again, and you wondered if he had learned anything from the last time he got sick.
“You shouldn’t stay out so late…” Unsure of what to say, you just spoke whatever came first to your mind.
“I shouldn’t.” He repeated your words as if he were reminding himself before suddenly stepping forward.
You were caught off guard and stepped back a little, keeping your distance from him.
“Subaru-”
You called him, but he suddenly reached for your hand. Catching your wrist in his grip, it grew so tight that you almost freaked out.
“I’m cold… very cold…” he spoke so quietly, laced with sadness and loneliness.
And you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad at that. You didn’t pull your hand from his grip, but you didn’t let him step any closer either.
“I wonder, are you afraid of me now?” His sudden question made you confused.
Why was he so persistent about whether you were scared of him or not?
“Do you want me to?” you asked him, but he didn’t answer.
You couldn’t see his expression as his face blended with the shadows. Suddenly, he pushed you down to the ground before you could even process it. Your eyes widened as your other hand pressed against his chest, pushing him away but even then, his other hand caught yours as he pinned your arms to either side of your head.
You never thought he would do that. No matter how strange this Subaru was, you had never considered him someone who would behave so rudely and improperly. Still shocked by his actions, you saw Subaru lean down, his face so close to yours that his breath grazed your skin. Even those silky-soft strands of his hair fell down slightly.
His delicate face was so close to you, yet you still couldn’t see him clearly. It was like an illusion, like he wasn’t real, as always. And maybe he indeed wasn’t real. Because Subaru would definitely never do this to anyone.
“You should be.” He tilted his head slightly until his voice was right next to your ear.
Warm breath brushed the tip of your ear as his quiet, eerily soft voice traveled through you. Your spine chilled as you tilted your face away from the sensation. But he seemed to chase after you, like a beast that wrapped its prey inside its claws and teeth.
His breath was laced with a hint of alcohol, and you thought he must have been drunk, that’s why he did this. Impulsiveness, completely out of his character. You tried not to panic as you looked at him.
“Did you have that much faith in this coward?” he asked as he referred to “Subaru.”
A mocking, disdainful tone followed as he let out a small laugh, echoing in the air, as if he were laughing at himself, because it was indeed himself.
“He’s not a coward,” you corrected his words a bit, and the man lifted his head to meet your gaze once again. “And you’re not one either.”
“Is that so?” he asked, maybe even unsure of what you were saying.
“Yes. Do you think a coward would be able to handle those tasks he disdains so much?” you asked him, and his grip grew tighter as your words slipped out.
You ignored the pain as you continued.
“Wouldn’t you understand yourself the most?”
His eyebrows twisted, and his flickering gaze fell onto your face as if you had stirred something inside him. And he didn’t like that feeling, because that seemed to give the “other” him more consciousness back, which meant his control over himself was weakening.
“Subaru.” You called to pull him away from his thoughts. “I like you.”
You had never really wanted to confess to him in this kind of moment, nor had you ever planned to tell him about your feelings. Because you didn’t want to risk breaking whatever fragile line existed between the two of you. The only connection you had with him was as an assistant. Without it, there would be nothing between you. No different from strangers.
And you didn’t want to imagine how he would politely, awkwardly, and guiltily decline you. He would definitely feel bad even though it wasn’t his fault. It was just who Subaru was, he always thought that everything wrong in this world was his fault and that he must take responsibility for everything. And you didn’t want any of that. You didn’t want him to blame himself for being unable to return your feelings.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said, crashing whatever delusional imagination you had about his perfect mask.
But you didn’t feel bad or ashamed when he said that, because it was true. You didn’t know Subaru, at least not in a way where you could understand him.
“I know that,” you spoke up, almost arguing back to him. “And I also know…” you continued, “that you will never hurt me.”
His grip loosened, and you took that opportunity to slip your hands away from his. You sat up a bit and pushed him down to the ground this time. He was stunned by your actions, just as shocked as you had been when he pushed you down. But he didn’t push you away at all. If anything, he seemed unusually calm about it, as if what you did didn’t bother him at all.
“I don’t care what the rumors say.” You leaned down a bit to whisper to him. “I will believe what you have to tell me yourself.” It sounded more like a challenge than you had expected as his gaze stayed on you.
And you had nothing else to tell him. Seeing how inappropriate your position was, you got off him. But Subaru reached out for you once again as his arms wrapped around you, keeping you still on his body. Your shoulders stiffened at his touch. His hand slid up to your head so gently as his fingers threaded through your hair, softly smoothing it. You felt his warm breath against your ear as he inhaled, as if trying to bury your scent deep in his lungs.
You felt your face burning hot as you tried to move away. But then his voice softly and weakly slipped out beside your ear.
“Please, let me stay like this for a bit.”
It reminded you of that day when you took care of him. He had also used that weak tone to ask you to stay, like a child who needed someone by his side. It made you unable to say no to him.
So you let him be. Let his hand softly press against your hair, and how he wrapped his arm around you so tightly.
After a while, you felt his breath slowly even out, and his hand also stopped, dropping slightly to your side. You lifted your head up from his chest and could see his face a bit clearer now.
He had fallen asleep.
He disrupted your sleep, and now he had fallen asleep so peacefully, so soundly, as if he hadn’t just created a mess in your head and your heart.
But because your mother raised you so well, you couldn’t find the heart to let him sleep on the floor like this. Trying to get him onto your futon, you finally draped a blanket over his sleeping body. He didn’t move an inch when you dragged him across the floor. He just passed out like that, probably because of the alcohol, you weren’t sure.
But you were glad that you had an extra futon so you could sleep on it. Still, opening your eyes and being able to see the side of his face, how his chest rose and fell so peacefully, and his breath softly near your ear, made you fall asleep a bit easier.
The very next morning, when sunlight poured through the window, you turned slightly under the covers before you suddenly panicked and sat up straight, looking around your room.
He was no longer there.
It was just you in the empty room. Even the blanket and futon were folded so neatly in the corner. And on your desk, you saw a small note written in such delicate handwriting.
“I’m sorry.”
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
And ever since that night, you have been unable to meet Subaru. You still work as his assistant, but most of your tasks were handed out by Haku. Suddenly he had more work, it was to deliver whatever Subaru had for you. And the poor vice-captain just seemed to become busier.
But he didn’t say anything, as he noticed some awkward friction between you and Subaru. He believed it was something the two of you should handle between yourselves.
So he just acted like everything was normal, and so did you, and maybe so did Subaru. You weren’t even able to talk to or meet him again until the Star Festival.
It was the only day that it would not be raining in Hotarubi, and you could finally see the sunshine through the air properly. But you couldn’t enjoy it much because you were one of the many staff members helping with the event. Assisting Haku around the stalls was one of your many tasks.
And since your House captain had the honor of being chosen as one of the Cowherds along with other ghouls, more work fell on Haku and you, as both of you seemed tangled in turmoil, trying to make sense and rhythm out of your tasks.
It was early that morning as you rushed through the hall, making your way to the common room because you had some papers you needed to check one last time with Haku. But you were unable to find him anywhere. Since he was so busy, he was practically running everywhere around Hotarubi, and you almost breathed fire out of frustration.
The last group of students who saw him said he had headed to the common room, so he had better be here, or you would definitely go insane. You already had your hakama on but didn’t even have time to do your hair properly because you were so busy trying to find your vice-captain.
But when you slid the common room door open so aggressively, ready to shout out, the words fell back into your throat as your eyes met Subaru.
Two pairs of widened eyes met each other in awkwardness as you cleared your throat.
You acted casual as you explained, “I’m here to find Haku.”
Subaru only gave you a small nod as he seemed to be in the middle of getting ready. You looked at his dazzling Cowherd outfit, and he looked like a little angelic prince right now. This felt a bit unfair, didn’t it? Why was he so pretty? And why were his eyelashes so long?
He was sitting in front of a mirror as you planned to leave, but Subaru spoke up first.
“He said he would be here to hand me some papers. I’m… waiting for him too,” he explained softly.
You sighed heavily in your mind. You really couldn’t run away, could you? So you stepped inside and stiffly sat down opposite him, sneaking a glance at him as you tried not to stare too much. He looked so handsome today that you couldn’t help but steal another glance.
Fuck, stop it, will you.
And his gaze seemed to flicker toward you too. He looked at you so openly while you tried to ignore his stare. Why was he suddenly so obvious about looking at you? It stressed you out a bit as your palms grew sweaty.
He seemed to take in your appearance for a moment before quietly speaking up.
“You haven’t done your hair?”
It felt like a casual question as your gaze returned to him for a brief moment before you answered awkwardly.
“Ah, yeah… I didn’t really have time to do it…” You subconsciously reached your hand up to smooth your hair as you wondered whether it was messy and whether you looked like an idiot in his eyes.
Silence fell once again before Subaru suddenly spoke again.
“Do you… want me to help with that?”
Your eyes flickered up to his face as you asked in surprise.
“You know how to?”
He nodded quietly as he spoke, a bit awkward while explaining.
“I used to… do the wigs for my roles on stage…” His voice was laced with nostalgia, and his eyes looked somewhat sad, as if he had recalled memories from when he performed on stage.
You knew it was a sensitive topic for him, as most of the time no one ever mentioned it. So instead of answering him directly, you simply stood up and moved to his side, sitting down beside him.
You could feel his shoulders stiffen slightly when you suddenly moved closer. But still, he looked at you with anticipation in his eyes.
“Then… I will be in your care,” you spoke quietly.
The corner of his lips curved softly into a smile as he set the mirror on the table, angling it slightly toward you while he moved behind you.
His slender, delicate fingers carefully threaded through your hair, gathering and wrapping it softly and neatly behind you. His fingertips gently tucked the extra strands behind your ears. When you lifted your gaze to the mirror, your eyes met his through the reflection. Out of embarrassment, you quickly averted your gaze.
He picked up the comb and began to brush your hair carefully and gently.
You felt his hands moving through your hair, as if he were touching something fragile and delicate. His hands moved quickly but with great care. You couldn’t see exactly what he was doing behind you, but you trusted him.
When he finally finished, he tilted the mirror slightly so you could see yourself better.
“Thank you…” You were too stunned to say anything else.
He must have been a magician, no, more like a fairy. His hands worked like magic. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you doubted you would be able to do your hair this well even if you had the time.
A soft smile appeared on his lips as he answered you.
“You’re welcome.”
But before you could say anything else, you saw him take out a small accessory from the long sleeve of his costume.
It was a hair clip, a tsumami kanzashi, with white and pink flowers made from delicate fabric. You could even see a small bunny charm attached to it.
He carefully clipped it to the side of your hair, as if he had specifically brought it for you, as if it belonged there.
“It’s very beautiful…” you murmured, which made you wonder whether you deserved it and why he had placed it on you.
As if he could sense your doubt, he explained quietly, “It was an old piece I used to use with my stage outfit.”
His fingers gently tugged a stray strand of hair away from your face.
“It suits you.”
His words were laced with such affection and care that your face burned. You didn’t dare to look at him or even at the mirror, afraid you might look foolish.
And his eyes were looking at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful person in his life, as if his whole world orbited around you.
Subaru would never look at you like that. You knew that.
So… what made him different today?
But the sliding sound of the door pulled both of your attention toward the entrance as Haku stepped into the room awkwardly.
“Sorry, did I interrupt you two?”
You immediately answered.
“No, we were waiting for you.”
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
So you all departed after that to move on with your work. It was a tough day, packed with people and stalls left and right. You had to run back and forth between each stall to check on them, see if the students needed anything, and control the crowd when it became a bit overloaded around certain booths.
Both you and Haku couldn’t even have lunch, as you were running around all day. Occasionally, Haku would update you about his side of the work, and you would do the same. Being too busy gave you no space to even think about anything else.
When night finally fell, you still couldn’t breathe easily, as it seemed like even more people had arrived. Some students commented that it was because of the lantern ceremony. Everybody was shifting toward the lake, which left the stalls a bit less crowded.
But when Haku texted you saying he needed some more support by the lake, you sighed heavily and rushed there, only to find Haku standing with some other students around him.
“Hey, what do you need me for?” you asked, but the man had already handed you a mask.
It mimicked the shape of a fox’s face. You took it from his hand, raising your eyebrows skeptically.
“We need one more person to ring the bell by the lake,” he explained, and you noticed he also had a mask resting on the side of his face.
“Put this on when you head to the east and ring the bell there,” he continued, and you only gave him a nod.
He seemed in a hurry as he left again with some other staff members. You then headed to the east side of the lake, where you indeed saw a pole with a bell attached to it. People were packed everywhere as you carefully moved through them to reach the pole.
As you managed to get there, someone moved around and bumped into you, making you stumble and almost fall forward. But a pair of hands caught you immediately as you lifted your head.
“S-sorry.”
Only to see Subaru and the other Cowherds. That vice-captain from Jabberwock who stood so tall behind him, and that wolf boy from Obscuary. They must have finished their mission if they were here now.
“Are you okay?”
Subaru’s voice pulled you back to reality as you nodded your head.
“I’m fine…” You looked around a bit, still awkward, before asking them, “Are you here to see the ceremony?”
“Yes, it’s the first time they’re able to see one,” he answered, and you noticed the curious eyes of the others.
“Oh, then I hope you guys enjoy it,” you said casually. You thought Subaru would leave with them.
He said something to them as they all moved toward the lake, while Subaru remained where he was.
“You’re not coming with them?” you asked as he shook his head slightly.
“You’re about to ring the bell, right?”
He asked you back as you nodded.
“I’d like to view it from here,” he said quietly, and you had nothing against it.
Stepping closer to the pole, you looked at the watch on your wrist, waiting patiently with him by your side until it was time.
You saw some students place lanterns onto the cold, still surface of the lake. One, then two, and slowly it became tons and thousands of lanterns. Before the ceremony, there was a short moment for prayer. Subaru stood by your side as he clasped his hands together, closing his eyes and lowering his head, as the rest of the students did the same.
You also clasped your hands together and lowered your head, wishing blessings upon the path for both the unfortunate and fortunate spirits.
Slowly, the wind picked up as your hand gripped the rope beneath the old bell. You pulled it softly, and as soon as the ringing sound echoed through the air from every side of the lake.
Fireworks burst into the sky, blooming in bright colors against the velvet darkness. They shimmered and glistened everywhere their light touched. Slowly, the warm glow from the lanterns floating on the lake began to rise into the air.
Gradually, they all drifted upward toward the endless horizon, creating a bright halo across the night sky.
This wasn’t the first time you had seen a lantern ceremony. But it was the first time you had seen it this clearly. Last year, you hadn’t found the right spot to watch it properly.
Your eyes sneaked a glance to your side to look at Subaru’s face. The bright light cast over his delicate features, making him shine like an angelic prince. His beautiful costume shimmered under the glow, and you found yourself unable to look away.
In that moment, you felt like he looked far more beautiful than the ceremony itself.
And as if he could sense your gaze, his head turned toward you, meeting your eyes. You were glad you had the mask on, or you didn’t know what kind of expression you would have shown with your cheeks burning so violently.
A gust of wind suddenly picked up, carrying familiar, soft wisteria petals everywhere. You heard some students cheer at the gentle breeze as you closed your eyes slightly against the wind.
And suddenly, Subaru, who had still been looking at you, broke into a small laugh.
It was laced with happiness and affection, and you wondered what had made him so happy. But he looked even more beautiful with laughter on his lips.
He suddenly spoke under the colorful lights.
“Hakama really suits you,” he said, and then continued, “You look very beautiful.”
And that twisted something inside your chest, making your heart race and pound loudly in your ears. Every other sound seemed to fade away. All you could hear was his voice echoing and the beating of your heart.
He called you beautiful. But did he know he looked so heavenly right now?
It felt like receiving a blessing from an angel.
You couldn’t help it.
The impulse took over. The atmosphere pushed you forward.
You stood on your tiptoes and pressed your mask against his lips.
As if you were kissing him, stealing a soft peck. The only difference was that you didn’t dare to do it for real. You only dared when there was a layer between you two, something that blocked and divided it, reminding you of the invisible line between you and him.
Your face burned brightly, your brain malfunctioning because of what you had just done. Out of embarrassment and seeing Subaru’s eyes widen in surprise, you planned to turn and run away immediately so you wouldn’t have to face him or see his reaction.
But before you could move, Subaru’s hand reached out to catch yours as he stepped closer.
You froze, not knowing what to do, where to put your hands, or what to say.
You watched as Subaru’s delicate fingers touched your mask and slowly moved it aside, exposing your embarrassed face under the bright lights.
You couldn’t hide or run anymore. His eyes flickered with your reflection.
Your heart beat even louder than the fireworks in the sky.
His gaze lingered on your face for a moment, as if he were drinking in every detail of your expression. You saw his eyelashes flutter softly.
Even his cheeks were flushed now as his other hand reached up to tug a stray strand of hair away from your face.
Then he leaned closer.
You closed your eyes instinctively as you felt his soft lips press against yours.
It was like a dream.
No, even in your dreams, it had never felt like this.
You had never imagined your first kiss with him would be this romantic. Under the colorful fireworks, with the wind carrying soft wisteria petals around you both and with him looking so breathtaking.
But it was real.
You were sharing this moment with him.
You were so nervous you couldn’t think straight. His scent filled your lungs, and his soft lips pressed against yours so sweetly and tenderly.
When his eyes slowly opened and he pulled away just an inch, you opened yours as well, meeting his dreamy gaze.
You knew that you liked Subaru. No matter which version of him.
And Subaru?
He felt the same.
No matter which version of himself, he loved you in all of them.
* ⚘* ⚘* ⚘
Let’s say your relationship changed a lot after that day.
He no longer avoided you, and the two of you no longer kept your distance. You would spend time having tea together. And when night fell, you would sit by his side, gazing at the silver veil of rain with the moonlight blurred behind it.
He also honestly told you that the “other Subaru” was a persona formed after long years of suppressing his emotions and overworking himself until the stress overwhelmed him. It was also a side effect of his stigma, something he tried to hide most of the time.
The rumors had started because of that persona.
Even though most of the time he didn’t cause any trouble, Subaru still felt uneasy. The two sides of him didn’t seem to be on good terms, even though they tried to coexist. He kept to himself because he believed no one could accept that other part of him.
Because that Subaru was nothing like the proper, polite image he had crafted for himself.
But you found it endearing.
Because whoever he was, you knew he wasn’t someone who would harm you.
And you knew both versions of Subaru shared the same feelings for you.
So none of his hidden sides scared you. If anything, it only made you want to know him even more.
You were still his assistant, only now he had become more proactive in giving you tasks, as if he had been preparing you for something.
You didn’t think much of it. You assumed it was because he had grown more comfortable with you, and since he was responsible in his work, he expected you to be the same.
At least, that was what you thought.
Until the day one of Darkwick’s staff cats arrived with an envelope for you.
It was very unusual because you had never received this kind of letter from Darkwick before. Normally, invitations or urgent matters would be sent to your captain and vice-captain.
But the cat sat neatly in front of you, its tail wagging impatiently at your hesitation to take it.
Knowing it was for you, you finally took the envelope and opened it.
Reading through the letter, you realized it wasn’t an invitation or an urgent matter, but an announcement for you.
At least, it had your name on it.
The new captain of Hotarubi for next year would be entrusted to you.
This decision had already been discussed with your captain and vice-captain, and it had been approved by Darkwick itself.
Why didn’t you know anything about this?
Both Haku and Subaru hadn’t told you anything. You wondered when they had even discussed this matter.
You knew they would be fourth-years next year and wouldn’t be available on campus anymore.
But you had never imagined that you would be the next captain.
Holding the letter tightly in your hand, it wrinkled slightly. You couldn’t stop your heart from racing as it beat loudly in your ears.
You just wanted to rush and show Subaru this.
But what were you going to say?
Tell him something he already knew?
Still, you were so thrilled right now. You didn’t know what else to do or think besides sharing the news with him.
Your pace quickened as your shoes tapped against the ground with each step. Rushing through the halls, you didn’t even reply to the students who greeted you. They looked dumbfounded as you passed them in a hurry, as if you were being chased by a ghost.
You didn’t care.
The sound of rain continued falling from the rooftops. Wind and cold air brushed through your hair, softly caressing the side of your face as you bumped into someone when you turned a corner.
You looked up immediately.
“Sorry! I was in a hurry.”
To your surprise, it was Haku.
He let out a small chuckle once his gaze fell on the wrinkled paper in your hand.
“If you’re looking for Subaru, he’s at the garden near the common room.”
He didn’t even need to ask to know who you were searching for.
You gave him a firm nod.
“Thank you!”
Your feet picked up again as you rushed toward the common room. But when you slid the door open, the room was empty.
Only a small tea set rested on the table, as if someone had been in the middle of enjoying it before suddenly leaving.
You saw steam still drifting softly from the teapot, creating a thin ribbon in the air. Subaru must not have left long ago or he couldn’t be that far.
Your gaze shifted to the tall window overlooking the garden. Through the veil of rain, you could barely see anything.
You placed the letter on the table.
Right now, you only wanted to see him.
Nothing else really mattered.
You stepped outside into the heavy rain without hesitation. Raindrops soaked your hair, your skin, your uniform. Water drenched you instantly, but you didn’t care about the cold or how your hair stuck to your face.
You looked around before walking deeper into the garden. Wisteria petals dripped down along with the rain, sticking in your hair.
Finally, you spotted a large old wisteria tree.
It was one of the many large trees in the garden, its branches forming a curtain of purple petals that hung softly in the rain.
You stepped closer and lifted the curtain of flowers.
And there you finally saw your boyfriend standing beneath them.
He held an umbrella in his hand.
You wondered what he was doing here, but Subaru always seemed to like standing in the garden. You believed it was his way of relaxing.
You stepped closer quietly.
But when you accidentally stepped on a small branch, it snapped softly. Subaru heard it and turned slightly.
When his eyes met yours, they seemed to melt through the silver rain and falling petals.
His lips curved into a gentle smile the moment he saw you.
“Subaru,” you called.
He immediately rushed to you and lifted the umbrella over your head.
“Why are you out here without any cover?” His gentle hand softly wiped the cold raindrops from your cheek.
You gave him a bright smile.
“Did you and Haku recommend me as next year’s captain?” you asked immediately, ignoring his question.
He simply smiled as he tucked your damp hair behind your ear.
“So you got the letter,” he said quietly.
It was a quiet confirmation.
You caught his other hand in yours.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was surprised when the cat kept rubbing around my legs.”
You spoke with excitement as his hand continued to caress your face gently.
His thumb brushed softly beneath your eye, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
“I meant it as a surprise for you,” he replied softly, his voice blending with the rain.
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him.
He seemed surprised at first, but his arms soon wrapped around you as well, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. He didn’t seem to mind the dampness of your clothes.
“Let’s go inside and get you dry first,” he said.
But you held his hand again, stopping him.
He looked at you in confusion.
“I want to stay here a bit longer with you.”
He smiled at your answer.
You noticed the side of his shoulder was damp, he had been holding the umbrella only over you.
You stepped closer and gently pulled him nearer so the umbrella could cover both of you properly.
His hand lifted again, picking a soft petal from your hair.
You looked up at him.
If you could see yourself in a mirror, you would probably be embarrassed by how lovesick you looked right now.
You couldn’t help it.
He looked so dreamy under the rain and the curtain of flowers, like an angel in some faded watercolor painting.
If you blinked, he might disappear into the rain.
But he wouldn’t.
He was right here.
You saw a soft pink hue spread across his cheeks as you kept gazing at him.
He suddenly spoke, pulling you from your dreamy thoughts.
“It’s like the first time I met you.”
Your gaze flickered to him.
“You remember that?”
He nodded with a small laugh.
“Yes. I remember how you looked so lost in the hallway.”
Your face warmed slightly at the memory. He would never know the real reason you got lost was because you had been too busy staring at him in the garden and didn’t notice when your group left.
And you decided it was better that he never knew.
“You also had some petals in your hair back then,” he continued.
“Really?! Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” you asked.
He laughed softly.
“I thought it was cute.”
His words made your face heat up again.
You spoke quietly.
“I will miss you… once you become a fourth year or graduate.”
You had always been honest with Subaru ever since you started dating.
Because you understood him, his concerns and his anxieties.
“I promise I’ll visit you often,” he reassured gently.
The light glistened in his eyes, and all you could see was your reflection in his pale purple irises.
“Subaru,” you called softly.
“Yes?” he answered in an affectionate tone.
“Can you lean down a bit?”
He did.
Still holding the umbrella over you, he leaned closer.
You didn’t hesitate.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips softly against his.
He let out a small smile between the kiss before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss gently.
Soft petals scattered through the air, landing against the umbrella that shielded you both from the veil of rain.
Blinking, the cleaner immediately pauses; looks up in order to give way to an axis tilt. And you immediately groan; become annoyed since you know him better than anyone. Obviously, the cluelessness that’s currently resting impassively on Tamsy’s face can only mean one thing: prolonged torture is about to take place within the confines of his room.
Momentarily, you begin to wonder about your life choices, but it’s not like the action will yield any fruit. By and large, you’re dating a sadist, so it’s better not to think too deeply about this decision— especially since you don’t want it to change.
Sinking further into the chair at his desk, you pout; elicit a chuckle from the man in question. And as you cross your arms, you discard all of your white flags, knowing that you’ll probably regret it in due time.
“Rough? In what way?” Scoffing, you briefly swat at the air; busy your eyes with a random spot on the wall.
“You know what way,” you quietly murmur, feeling rather irritable. But before you can continue, your heart immediately stops; freezes as something taut begins to wrap around your ankle.
It’s unmistakable. Currently, a long piece of thread is dancing along the sensitive parts of your skin, and it’s the same string that is attached to Tamsy’s lifeline. Tokushin. Clearly, you’ve been outmatched.
Not that you really mind.
Immediately, you swallow; start to feel heat pool up between your thighs. A soft whine almost breaks through, but you’re quick to contest its appearance; fast at forcing it back down.
“Do I?” Tamsy murmurs. Right on cue, the fibers continue to work their way around your other leg, coalescing your want into nothing but pure need. Tamsy is also currently making his way over to you from across the room, meaning that the race has just begun.
“I… I think you do.” A wavering concession; a muted compromise. At this point, a whisper is all you can muster up, since the permafrost that exists between you and Tamsy always advances like clockwork. He pries, and you melt. You show teeth, and he bites; eclipses the disobedience; overshadows the dissent. It’s a game you like to play, but if there’s anything you’ve learned over the past year, it’s that Tamsy is a winner. He plans for the future; knows how to work with a shallow opening. And truth be told, you like that about him; enjoy being pushed just as much as you like pushing. With him, all steps forward are met with a step backwards. Eventually though, you run out of places to hide.
Frankly speaking, you’re counting on that.
A shiver passes through your spine, and now, his focus is peaked. Your legs begin to get pulled apart.
“It’s always good to be sure though,” Tamsy murmurs, thumbing over your cheek. Belatedly, his fingers ghost over your lips, and that gesture forms a crack, one that transmutes into a weak spot. Without even realising it, you’ve inadvertently started to lean into his touch, and a knowing smile documents your lack of composure. “Don’t you think?”
But right now, you can’t. Not while he’s looking at you like this and touching you like that; showering you with an endless supply of attention. It’s too much. But simultaneously, it’s not enough. So you inch closer; break away from the script as you acknowledge your instincts and try to grab hold his free hand. However, lack shortly crowds all of your senses.
Keening, you whimper; hear him kiss his teeth at the overindulgence. Scrutiny. His eyes narrow at the blatant lack of respect.
Suddenly, Tokushin begins to gather up your wrists, and they unexpectedly become bound. Now, they’re tied behind your back.
Tracing along your inner thigh, Tamsy squeezes; digs crescents into the plushest parts of your flesh. This time, you heel, adhering to the unspoken command as you squirm under his grip.
“Looks like you don’t.” Tamsy exhales, but placidity is far from the fore. He’s disheartened at best; disappointed at worst. “So I’ll make it easy for you… okay?”
Closing the gap once more, he painstakingly takes his time; unhurriedly brushes his nose against yours. The pause is neverending, so your mind finally shatters, and you can feel him grin as the shards dissipate into the void.
“Beg for it. And maybe, just maybe… I’ll give you what you want.”
Warnings: Yandere! Tamsy x fem! Reader, manga spoilers, violence, reader gets hurt, description of blood, gaslighting, near-death experience, Tamsy is an obsessive piece of shit in this
Your mask filter hummed faintly as it worked overtime.
Crouching behind a large refrigerator, you slowly peaked up from your hiding spot to check if things were safe. When you didn’t sense any danger, you stood up fully, clutching your notebook. It didn’t contain any relevant notes yet, but it’d all happened very quickly, so you weren’t gonna stress it. Not everyone was as diligent as Tomme.
A few meters ahead, the corpse of the trash beast was still twitching.
It had been massive, twenty times the height of a person, its body made of fused garbage and jagged rebar, a crooked mouth of shattered glass still grinding weakly against itself. Black sludge leaked from the wounds Tamsy had inflicted upon it.
Tamsy stood beside it, relaxed, like he’d just finished stretching instead of killing something that could’ve crushed a truck. His distaff glowed faintly where he held it, the light slowly dimming as whatever power he’d used faded out.
You tried not to stare.
“You can stop looking like that,” Tamsy said through his mask, flicking something sticky off his sleeve. “It’s dead.”
“I’m not scared.” You said petulantly, annoyed he’d caught you.
“I didn’t say that.” He added on. “I know you’re very brave.”
If it had come from anyone else, it would have sounded blatantly sarcastic. And maybe, just a little, it did. But this was Tamsy. Tamsy was usually so nice, so you told yourself the faint edge of sarcasm had to be in your imagination.
You looked away quickly, pretending to check the horizon instead. The polluted fog blurred everything past a few dozen meters, turning the wasteland into shifting silhouettes.
“I was just making sure there weren’t more,” you muttered.
“Mhm.”
He nudged the beast’s head with the tip of his boot. One of the glass teeth cracked with a dull crunch.
“You supporters worry too much.”
You were glad you were here, and not one of the other supporters. Follo especially would’ve taken very heavy offense to a comment like that. It implied the worry was unfounded, as if it was unnatural to worry when faced with a sharp, sludge-drooling behemoth that wanted to kill you. Instead of saying all that, you just let out a simple: “That thing was huge.”
“And now it’s not a problem.” Tamsy stretched his arms over his head lazily. “See? Easy job. Just like Semiu said.”
Easy.
Right.
You adjusted the strap of your mask, suddenly very aware that you were the one here who hadn’t actually done anything useful. The mission had been simple: escort Tamsy into the zone, observe, and write down anything that was even remotely interesting. You’d written some small stuff down, but the fight had been done too quickly for you to find anything really worth commenting about.
Tamsy lifted his foot off the trash beast corpse, and turned to walk your way, vital instrument lazily swinging side to side in his grip.
That said… Why was the beast still twitching? Was the core still int-
The windmill flank of the trash beast suddenly screeched as it whipped around in a final effort to kill tamsy, flinging a slab of debris outward. Tamsy dodged it, and hit the trash beast with his distaff, the damn thing finally getting flung around and decomposing like it should’ve done to begin with.
The debris, however, was still heading your way.
Your brain reacted before the rest of you did.
No problem. This part you’d practiced. Supporters weren’t frontline fighters, but you still had to survive long enough to observe and give actual support. If one thing had been drilled into you, it’d been on how to dodge trash like this. Your boots landed down on solid ground, a good way’s off from where the projectile had landed, meaning things were gonna be just fine-
Your balance vanished instantly.
“Wha-!”
With an immediate shift in trajectory, you went down hard, suddenly face to face with a very large pile of sharp and rough trash..
Your leg twisted underneath you as you fell, pain exploding up to your thigh as something tore open against the jagged metal. Your arm slammed against a rusted pipe with a sickening crack that echoed through your mask.
For a moment all you could hear was the roaring in your ears.
Everything went white with noise. Your ears roared so loudly it drowned out the polluted wind, the distant creak of shifting scrap- everything, though you were pretty sure you’d let out a cry loud enough to alert any trash beast in a hundred mile region.
It was one of your worst habits, one that the other cleaners hadn’t managed to train out of you yet. Whenever you got hurt, you cried out like you wanted everyone in a wide radius to hear you, which wasn’t an ideal quality in a career where being sneaky and getting hurt often were part of the job.
When your vision finally steadied and you were no longer screeching out of instinct, you raised your head to assuage the damage.
That… that was a lot of blood.
Somewhere nearby, footsteps crunched across rubble.
“Oh dear, you’ve tripped?” Tamsy covered his lower face with his sleeve, in shock at the state of your leg. You couldn’t bring up the energy to snap at him, knowing he didn’t mean it like that, and also you were a bit too focused on the fact that part of your femur was sticking out of your skin. “For a supporter, you sure are clumsy.”
Shame burned inside your stomach, and you couldn’t lift your head up far enough to make eye-contact with the giver. “Yeah, haha, my foot must’ve… must’ve caught on something.”
You huffed out and shakily sat up and grabbed at the top-part of your leg, trying to squeeze your upper leg so it would stop bleeding so profusely. There were protocols for this, but they seemed to elude you at the moment. Calling for back-up was the best option, right? But it was just you and Tamsy here, and he was way more experienced than you, and he’d yet to even touch his choker. Was there a reason… not to?
Were you missing something?
“I should… call back-up, right?” What you should’ve done in the first place was accept Gris’ offer to come along back at the base. He’d have you bandaged and in a car within mere minutes. But you’d been prideful, telling him Semiu had specifically said the job was supposed to be an easy one, one that only needed a single giver and a lil back-up just in case. Tamsy had even specifically asked for you! “That’s what… I should do.”
“Are you asking me?” Tamsy said softly, sitting next to you. “What do you think?”
You tried to focus. No problem, of course, you’d been trained for this.
You tried to recount the moment. You’d dodged, your foot had caught on something, and then you’d gone down hard, straight into a heap of broken concrete and twisted pipes. In a strange stroke of luck, it was only your leg that had broken so badly. Still, the pounding in your skull and the nausea curling in your stomach made it pretty clear you’d hit your head too.
A trash beast had been killed. You had been sent to observe.
“My head feels weird,” you murmured, reaching for your notebook to record the observation. Your fingers fumbled for the pen, your grip unsteady as if the thing had suddenly become too heavy to hold. You tried to write, aware of Tamsy watching while you struggled to form the word concussion.
He came closer and his hand slipped around yours, steadying it. Through the blur in your vision, you watched as he guided your hand across the page, helping you finish the letters.
When the last squiggly ‘n’ was written, you smiled at the notebook, before smiling at him as well. “Thank you for your help.”
His eyes crinkled over his mask. “It’s my pleasure.”
A few more moments passed.
As if realizing you needed to complete the next part of your internal mission, you clumsily raised your hand to try and touch your choker to reach Semiu. Tamsy grabbed your hand and lowered it again, gently. You looked at him, confused.
His eyes crinkled, still smiling.
“Tamsy?” You said softly.
“Yes?” He replied, cheerily.
“Why aren’t we calling for back-up?” Your gaze dropped to your ruined leg. A wave of panic twisted through your stomach as you noticed the bone jutting through the skin again. God. Once the haze wore off and you weren’t half-dissociated anymore, that was going to hurt like hell. “I’m hurt.”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Oh dear… did you hit your head that hard?”
Before you could react, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He nuzzled his forehead gently against yours, making sure the mask didn’t get in the way.
“You must be in a lot of pain.” He said breathlessly.
“Huh?” You officially lost it. What was going on? Why was he acting this strange? Was he twirling around the subject, or were you really that concussed? You struggled a little to get out of his embrace, but to him, it probably felt like you were settling into his embrace. You could do little but let out another. “...huh?”
Tamsy pulled away from your face and your eyes widened as you saw blood on his mask. Was your head bleeding? That did make things way worse. Why wasn’t he panicking like you were?
“Tamsy? Why aren’t we calling back-up?” You asked again.
“You just asked me that.” He replied. “Are you dizzy? Why don’t you lie down for a bit.”
“You aren’t answering me.”
The wind dragged through the polluted zone again, pushing gray dust over the broken concrete around you. Somewhere behind Tamsy, the corpse of the trash beast shifted as pieces of it settled, metal clinking softly against itself.
Tamsy tilted his head a little, like he was considering something amusing.
“Oh,” he said lightly. “Didn’t I?”
“No.” Your voice came out weaker than you meant it to. “You didn’t.”
Your head swam. The world kept tilting slightly to the left, like gravity was having a disagreement with itself. You tried to focus on his face, on the familiar curve of his eyes above the mask.
Something about the red smeared across the fabric kept pulling your attention.
“Tamsy,” you tried again, slower this time, like maybe clarity would come if you spoke carefully. “There are protocols. If a supporter is injured during…during a giver operation, we…”
His gloved fingers brushed your wrist where he still held your hand down, his grip gentle but firm enough that you couldn’t lift it.
“We call back-up. That is protocol, yes.” He nuzzled your forehead again. “Good job remembering that.”
You swallowed.
“That’s…my job.”
“Mhm.” He pat your head, and it made you feel even dizzier for a few moments. “And you are so good at it, aren’t you?”
Another pause stretched between you.
Your leg throbbed violently now, the shock starting to thin out. Every pulse of your heart sent another hot wave of pain up your body. You squeezed your thigh again instinctively, though your grip had gone weaker with only one hand, the other still firmly held by Tamsy.
“Tamsy,” you said again, more urgently this time. “I’m bleeding a lot.”
“I noticed.”
“So we should call-”
“You’re very observant today.”
Your stomach twisted.
You blinked at him.
“What?”
Tamsy leaned back slightly. His posture was casual. Like you were huddled together watching a movie during a break instead of in the middle of a polluted zone with your bones sticking out.
His eyes crinkled again.
“You wrote it down and everything,” he said, nodding toward the notebook in your lap. “Concussion. Good job.”
Your gaze drifted to the page automatically.
Your chest tightened.
“Yeah,” you said slowly. “Because I think I have one.”
“Probably.”
“Which is… bad.”
“For you, yes.”
Your brain tried to follow that sentence and stumbled.
“…for me?”
“Mm.”
Another gust of wind rolled across the wasteland, carrying the sour stink of rot and chemicals. Your mask filter buzzed harder for a second.
Your thoughts felt sticky. Like they were moving through syrup.
“Tamsy,” you whispered, suddenly very tired and very very scared, “can you please call Semiu?”
His eyes softened.
“Oh, dear.” he said quietly.
There was almost something blissfully fond in the sound.
“You still think we’re doing that?”
Your stomach dropped. Your breath quickened a little. You stopped trying to put pressure on your thigh and instead tried to push yourself upright, planting one shaky hand against the ground. Your arm trembled violently, matching your breathing.
The strength simply… wasn’t there.
Your elbow buckled before you could lift yourself even an inch, and you sagged back against him.
You swallowed hard and tried again, slower this time, willing your muscles to listen. Tamsy tilted his head the other way now, studying your face like he was watching something incredibly fun.
“I did tell you,” he said.
A thin, helpless panic fluttered in your chest, beating faster and faster as the realization crept in that you weren’t able to get out of this. “Tell me what?”
“That you should lie down.”
Your vision swam again.
“I can’t lie down,” you muttered. “My leg…”
“You’re already halfway there.”
It took your brain a few seconds to process that.
You looked down.
At some point during your struggle, you had slid sideways against the broken concrete. Your body wasn’t upright anymore. Tamsy’s arm was loosely around your shoulders, keeping you propped up into the embrace.
You didn’t remember sinking down so much.
Panic fluttered weakly in your chest.
“Tamsy,” you said again, voice trembling now, your hands desperately clinging at your leg to keep pressure on it. The pool beneath you was growing. “You have to help me. Why aren’t you helping me?”
He looked at you for a long moment.
Then his eyes crinkled again in that same pleasant smile.
“You just asked me that.”
Were you going insane? Why was he acting this way?! Tears welled in your eyes and your lips wobbled as you tried to repeat your question again and again, still unsure why Tamsy was acting so crazy. Your bloodied hands couldn’t reach your choker, nor put enough pressure on your leg. He was just sitting there… watching!
You were going to bleed out.
With pure fear in your eyes, you stared up at Tamsy, knowing there was nothing you could do but bleed out into his arms if he didn’t allow you to call help. Even if help was called, you were quickly losing consciousness. They wouldn’t be here in time. You’d die. You were going to die.
A distant engine cut through the wind.
Both of you turned toward the sound automatically.
At first it was just a low mechanical growl somewhere beyond the gray fog, vibrating through the piles of scrap and broken concrete. Then headlights pushed through the smog, two harsh beams cutting across the polluted landscape.
A truck.
Your brain lagged behind the obvious conclusion.
“…what?”
The vehicle rolled closer, tires grinding over rubble until it stopped a short distance away. The side door slammed open.
“Afternoon,” a familiar voice called out. “Cavalry’s arrived.”
Gris jumped down from the truck, already moving fast. His boots crunched across the debris as he crossed the distance between you.
Your brain stuttered.
“…Gris?”
He crouched immediately, eyes sweeping over your injuries with efficiency.
“Well, damn,” he muttered. “You really outdid yourself this time, huh?”
Gloved hands were suddenly everywhere: checking your leg, your arm, your pulse. Gris worked quickly, movements precise and practiced. He’d already brought a medkit.
“Your arm is broken. Head is bleeding,” he said aloud, half to himself. “Leg’s a mess too. Femur stickin’ out like it’s trying to escape-”
You blinked at him.
“How…?”
Gris looked up briefly.
“How what?”
“How are you here?”
Gris frowned slightly, like the question was odd.
“Tamsy called it in.”
Your gaze snapped toward the giver beside you.
Tamsy was still sitting exactly where he’d been, posture relaxed, hands resting loosely around you to keep you upright, looking like an angel keeping you company in your dire time.
His eyes crinkled cheerfully when he noticed you looking.
“…you did?” you croaked.
“Of course,” he said affectionately. “It’s very important to me you make it out of here safe.”
Gris snorted.
“No flirting with my patients, Tamsy,” he said while wrapping a band around your thigh. “But good lookin’ out for her. Any later and she might’ve bled out. Couldn’t you have stopped the bleeding yourself, though?”
Tamsy shook his head. “My control over my vital instruments is not that delicate. I was worried I’d hurt her more if I tried to do something like that.”
Your brain still tried to reconcile everything with the last several minutes of conversation, not truly grasping the conversation the two men were having about you.
“But..” Your voice came out weak. “You…”
“Hold still,” Gris said, tightening the makeshift tourniquet. “This’ll suck.”
It did.
Stars burst behind your eyes as he secured the pressure band. You screeched wildly, for a moment completely out of control with the amount of pain coursing through your body.
“You’re lucky he called when he did,” Gris continued matter-of-factly, like you’d not just metaphorically ruptured an ear drum. He was probably used to it. You did have a penchant for getting hurt, though never before like this. “We’ll get you to Eisha in no time.”
You stared at Tamsy.
He tilted his head at you, still smiling with his eyes.
“What a relief, isn’t it,” he said.
Your thoughts slid uselessly against each other.
Had he…?
But you’d asked him.
Multiple times.
Why hadn’t he just said-
Your head throbbed violently and the question dissolved before you could finish it.
“Alright,” Gris said after a moment. “Let’s get you in the truck before you start passing out on me.”
The ride back was bumpy.
You were half-propped against the side bench of the transport, Gris driving while Tamsy was keeping your leg raised, checking the bandages every few minutes while the engine rumbled beneath the floor of the car.
Your leg had been stabilized as best as possible. Your arm was splinted tight against your side and some impromptu stitching had made sure your head hadn’t bled more than it already had. The total pain had settled into a deep, throbbing burn that pulsed with every movement of the truck.
Your notebook still sat loosely in your lap.
You stared at the word concussion for a long time.
“…Tamsy,” you murmured eventually.
“Hm?”
He was sitting beside you, one elbow braced against the wall of the truck like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“You didn’t tell me you called backup.”
“I didn’t?”
You turned your head slowly toward him.
“No.”
“Huh.”
He sounded mildly surprised.
Gris snorted from behind the wheel.
“You’re concussed,” he said. “Memory’s gonna be a little scrambled.”
Maybe.
That had to be it.
“Oh… I’m sorry.” You said, feeling ready to cry by the relief of it all. You’d been scared to death, sure you’d die on a pile of polluted garbage. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further, so you looked away, trying to ignore how Tamsy’s gaze had been zeroed in on your face the second you got emotional.
Tamsy pat your good leg comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it.”
You exhaled weakly and leaned your head back against the metal wall.
Something tugged at your skin.
Your eyes drifted downward.
For a second your brain didn’t quite register what you were seeing.
A thin strand of blue yarn wrapped around your ankle.
Tamsy’s hand rested loosely nearby.
And very casually, like he’d been doing it the whole time, he was slowly pulling the thread free.
A little more blue yarn slipped out from your ankle, disappearing into his sleeves.
That Sounds Like A Challenge (Activities of Daily Life Series Pt 2.5 Blame Haku)
A Day In The Life (Pt 1) | Stupid Ghouls Stupid Prizes (Pt 2) | Is That A Challenge? (Pt 2.5) | That Sounds Like A Challenge (Pt 2.5) | Actions Meet Consequences (Pt 3)
Bam, back with another profile! Lore drop, I originally started working on Argenti back in like June, but then I kept getting distracted by different characters, so technically speaking, this took three months to write, whoops. Anyway, here you go! (꜆꜄ ˃ ³ ˂)꜆꜄꜆
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
CONTENT WARNINGS INCLUDE: Dark content (dead dove), cisfem!Reader, the general stuff that comes with yandere content (obsessiveness, delusional thoughts, imprisonment...), forced non-schmexual touching, blood (and injury but not to reader), gaslighting, dissociation, manipulation,
NONCON, overstim, fingering, penetration, mild manhandling, brief oral in reader's direction, praise, brief bondage, and a space cowboy mention in horny context.
Disclaimers can be found in my pinned post. The template is heavily inspired by @/cinnamonest!
S-FW
˗ˏˋ ★ 1. General look: How are they like? How do they behave around the darling? Are there any warning signs?
Eccentric. ”Eccentric” is the one word you would use to describe the ethereal sight of the Knight of Beauty with a flaming red mane and pristine, white armour. For one reason or another, people seem to be either drawn to him or prefer to keep as far away from him as possible, no in between. His demeanour certainly evokes curiosity in the crowd around him.
The man doesn’t linger in one place too long — such is the nature of the quest he has set off on — and so, if you happen to stumble upon him, your first encounter is going to be a fleeting one. By coincidence, the two of you may happen to be in the same place at the same time: For example, you might have boarded the same vehicle, or maybe you’re stuck at a queue next to each other. With his profession, the possibilities are truly endless. For you to cross paths with him alone is a miracle worth singing praises to the Aeons for.
The meeting might even take place in the Astral Express if you’re a passenger. Perhaps you’re a voyager, finally returning to your home planet after a long trek amongst the stars. Plain, ordinary people, adventurers, hermits, outcasts; all are welcome on the journey of the Trailblaze, no matter what sort of a life they have led. The standard crew of the Express mirrors the very same fact: The quiet, dark-haired man has his roots in the Xianzhou Luofu, the lady of the train, Himeko, used to be a scientist, and the halovian with pale blue hair has… a vaguely familiar face. However, incidentally, you don’t happen to be the only extra passenger that has decided to board the vehicle.
On the wine-coloured bench that extends from one end of the train car to the other, this man has chosen to sit right next to you. It’s not an understatement, either: Quite literally, his thigh is inches away from grazing against yours. It’s like in that one shitpost your friend sent you the other day: ”Do we have to sit like this?”
He’s all smiles, all excitement, as if he’s unable to entirely acknowledge the social weight of the situation. He sits quietly with his hands set neatly in his lap, his eyes directed at the other side of the carriage, positioned as if he was posing for a portrait. He’s acting like he’s having the time of his life — which he might very well be, judging from his earlier conversations you overheard him having with the other people on the Express — but above all, the picture you’re getting is that he’s quite fond of your presence, for whatever reason.
The tea was spilled to you by the girl with a camera, March 7th, that he’s called Argenti, and he’s an emissary of sorts: He has taken on the duty of upholding the path of Beauty’s noble name and wanders the space alone without much of a route planned out. Unlike him, you have a specific destination in mind, but it just so happens that the two of you have chosen the same occasion for your inter-astral trip. For the very limited time he has known you, you could never imagine someone taking such a blatant liking to you so fast, yet the way he behaves conveys just that. Not even a few hours into your journey on the train, he has glued himself to your side like he was your long-lost childhood friend.
His presence is on the fence of being overbearing, but somehow, he hasn’t managed to cross that line quite yet. He’s very close to doing so, however, especially since the things he has been rambling about have ranged from complimenting the house plants to praising the Aeon of Beauty with plentiful words to acclaiming the apparently riveting shape of your fingers. None of the other people on the Express seem to have quite caught on to what he’s all about either, despite having been acquainted with him before, but then again, his intentions seem to be on the pure end. There’s not an ounce of hostility radiating off of him, to a degree you would consider to be nearly concerning. You don’t think he has ever even killed a mosquito in his life.
Despite the bit of unease you feel in his vicinity, you can’t deny that his presence has managed to pique your interest as well. There’s something incredibly alluring about him, in a way — you can say for certain that you’ve never seen anybody like him, both regarding his appearance and the manner he carries himself in. Thus, swallowing your prejudices, you decide to strike up a conversation with him.
The way his eyes light up is a sight. You think he might have been expecting you to open the discussion out of courtesy, but after your initiation, it’s like the flood gates had been opened.
Immediately, you come to find out that he’s an excellent conversationalist. He needs but a few mere seconds to turn what you thought would be mildly awkward smalltalk to a captivating exchange of views. Whatever surface-level topic you may have chosen for the chat quickly expands towards broader, more abstract subjects, continuing on and on until you get sidetracked and go on yet another tangent. He doesn’t even appear to be particularly knowledgeable about the things you two talk about, yet he engages in the conversation like it was the most intriguing thing he has ever heard. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone that was willing to listen to you for so long with such blatant enthusiasm in his words.
You’re left with a very pleasant impression of him after he finally excuses himself for a bit. He even makes sure to plant a kiss on the back of your hand in a knightly manner, nearly making your heart flutter out of your chest. You feel like the main lead in a sappy soap opera, almost: Not many people have had the privilege of meeting someone like him, you’re certain.
It’s not just a one-time thing, either. With how you’re enclosed in a relatively small space together, you’re bound to be seeing his face multiple times a day, but the second, the third, the fourth, and every single time you bump into him is just as pleasant as the last.
It just clicks between the two of you. In just a few days’ time, you’re spending your time playing board games with him, you’re taking care of the dishes together, you’re showing him pictures of your pet back at home. You enjoy yourself in his presence: With how attentive and kind he is, you really wonder how anyone could not like him after getting past the quirky nature of his exterior. It’s difficult not to get completely enamoured with the manner he shares the stories from his adventures with.
He’s his usual, blithe self for the vast majority of interactions you have. There’s nothing in his behaviour, neither outwardly or even inwardly, that could indicate what is about to eventually take place. Each time you pass him by in the hallway, you feel nothing but joy. What first appeared to be a person you wouldn’t survive spending the next few weeks in the same vehicle with quickly forms into someone you would call a friend. Whatever, feelings might be brewing inside of him aren’t ones of obsession or possession, either: Not at the beginning, anyway.
As sentimental of a person as he is, surprisingly, he doesn’t fall immediately. The mitigating factor with him largely comes down to that very trait itself: He’s very tuned with his own emotions. Compared to someone who isn’t as open, though he has his peculiarities, he’s fairly level-headed. That’s not to say that he isn’t attracted to you from the moment he sees you, and the sort of allure he feels isn’t just the everyday ”Ahh, hmm, that is beautiful” kind of a notion. It’s his life purpose to bring happiness and beauty to the world, and attraction is undeniably a part of that. He’s not unfamiliar with being the target of people’s affections, either: While he himself is not entirely aware of the effect he has on people, he’s certainly not completely oblivious to it. He senses something akin to that from you, too, but he isn’t quite certain whether it is to be perceived as anything deeper than the cordial sort. And, perhaps surprisingly, he isn’t initially too saddened by it.
If it weren’t for the circumstances you have been essentially locked in — being in the middle of nowhere in space and all — the feeling that smolders in his chest could have taken an entirely different course compared to what ends up being. The Astral Express doesn’t stop just anywhere in the cosmos, and so, the distances between the destinations are long. Therefore, you’re basically forced to linger in his general presence for a few weeks at minimum, all the way until the next station. The sort of a ”bubble” you are in forms into the damning factor that ultimately causes him to build past what is normal and wander into obsessive territory.
It starts very slowly — so much so that you can’t pinpoint the moment, or even the day when the scale tips in favour of the deluded side of his impulses. What was once innocent fancy towards you gradually grows into what could be called love, then infatuation, then need. In the span of a few weeks, he goes from zero to one hundred with no bumps in between.
Though the time frame is relatively short compared to what the more patient sort of yanderes might prefer, the fact that you’re so closely involved with him nearly 24/7 is what makes the difference. It’s comparable to how people on summer camps and such get emotionally intimate with each other in merely a few days’ time: Though the period of time isn’t long in itself, the hours spent with him pile up quickly — much quicker than in normal circumstances with someone like Jing Yuan, for example.
At some point down the line, you start to notice very subtle differences in the way he acts. The change is so faint that it’s difficult to determine what exactly has altered, even. It’s the sort of a shift where you might just think that the person stubbed their toe when they woke up, and there’s nothing more to it. However, if you hold eye contact with him for longer than usual, you may be able to catch a glimpse of the strange flicker in his irises. Unlike his mundane, slightly air-headed self, he’s clearly paying closer attention to you. Not in the sense that he wasn’t already keen on observing you — you’re a sight to behold, naturally — but he seems to be scrutinizing the details with much more intent than before. For example, when you’re engaged in a conversation with him, his eyes might wander off from your eyes the second your hand comes up to your head to gesture along with the story you’re telling. It’s not a curious ”oh, there it goes” sort of a look, it’s more that momentarily, he appears almost alarmed by the movement.
He’s plagued by all sorts of thoughts when he goes to bed at night. He recognizes the attraction factor — he’s not unfamiliar with the feeling of crushing on someone, or falling in love, even — but he can’t quite wrap his head around what the jittery, almost compulsive emotion rising up in his throat is. He tries to reason with himself, he does his best to comprehend what it is about you that makes him feel so... neurotic, but the roller coaster you have indirectly forced him into doesn’t let up the tiniest bit. It doesn’t help that he has to see you every single day going about your business, as carefree as can be, all the while he’s dreadfully counting seconds to when you’re going to hop off the train, never to be seen by him again. For one reason or another, the latter is the idea he can’t quite stomach.
What ultimately causes everything to finally fall apart is when he starts associating you with the Beauty itself. Not just the adjective, but the path. Suddenly, it all becomes clear to him: You, you are the one all of it is about. All of you, your looks, your spirit, your kindness, all of it conveys nothing but the sacred Beauty he has sworn to protect for all his knighthood. The realization doesn’t happen in a snap, either: It’s just that he has been hanging onto the steep edge of the slippery slope for far too long.
The difficult thing about evading your fate with him is that all his eccentricities overshadow what could be seen as red flags when you’re with him. When your radars get bombarded with so many strange stimuli at once, it would be a demanding task to fish out the qualities that are actual warnings for what is to come. Essentially, you let a lot slide with him for the sole reasoning that his intentions seem innocent. Further down the road, it’s clear that not only is the man hauntingly skilled at concealing his darker side, but though you realize it much too late, it was always evident that ”dark” is the wrong word for it entirely. Though morally dubious, he can’t be described as evil. He’s nothing but noble, nothing but candid: You yourself just never happened to ask the right questions.
˗ˏˋ ★ 2. Securing: How will they abduct their darling? When, where and how?
In Argenti’s mind, the next logical step in his journey of conquering you is, well, securing you. Once he has decided that you are precisely what he wants, what he needs, what the Beauty requires, he doesn’t require much time to come up with the idea of abducting you. At that point, the ethics of such a thing don’t really ring the alarm bells in his head anymore. Any mental gymnastics he might have to do to justify the actions don’t demand much brainpower from him, and so, the route is settled.
It has to do with your perceived vulnerability. Initially, kidnapping you doesn’t even cross his mind (and not that he would refer to it with that word, anyway), but when he sees the dangers you’re subjected to in your life, he really can’t help but have the overwhelming urge to bring you to safety. Yes, you’re in danger. Everything around you, even down to the kitchen knife you’re using to chop down some vegetables, is a hazard he has to protect you from. It’s his duty as a knight!
He does, however, understand that if he were to start fussing over you in the express, his behaviour could attract some unwanted attention from his fellow crew members. Not that he would find anything to be wrong with his own actions, necessarily, but he does understand the potential negative reaction that could come his way, so he refrains from going overboard for the time being. Still, he can’t get over the voice in his head yelling at him to shield you from the tiniest perils. Going down the same train of thought, he realizes that not a long time from now, you’ll be leaving his sight potentially forever, and that’s when his fire really gets fueled up.
For him to be able to even entertain the thought of snatching you away — regarding both his state of mind and the actual planning and execution of the abduction — the time frame has to be very specific. The only point where he can actually seize you is in the narrow window between after you step out of the Express and before you board your next vehicle, and that’s precisely where he decides he should strike.
While he does have a somewhat solid course of events in mind, it can’t exactly be called fool-proof. There are a lot of moving parts, lots of risks that he has to take, but in the end, the odds are very much in his favour. If there’s one positive thing about being him, it’s that people tend to trust him very easily. None can actually be blamed for that — I mean, just look at him — but it does come particularly handy when he actually has to get things done, both in the good and the bad.
A day prior to your departure, he suddenly informs the rest of the Express that he’s going to be hopping off at the same stop as you. The excuse is quite plausible, given that he’s a traveller, and having his plans change without much of a warning isn’t exactly unheard of in his profession. You don’t think much of it, either: On the contrary, you’re mostly pleased that you’ll get to have him for a little longer before the two of you part ways for what might be the rest of your lives. Obviously, you’ve already shared your number, your social medias, all of those, but even then, with how far away he might get, there’s no guarantee of you getting to see him again. Though the atmosphere is a little melancholic due to the approaching goodbye, his presence is keeping you in a relatively good mood.
Then, when the next morning rolls around, you gather your luggage and unboard the train with him on your side. With the arrival message already sent to the people that are expecting you back, you bid farewell to him with a light hug on the side. Doing his very best to curb the sheer euphoria that the touch makes him feel, he sighs out an adieu after you.
Without a single adverse thought plaguing your pretty little head, you make your way to where you are to board the local public transport. The time of day isn’t exactly the busiest one, and there aren’t many people around as you walk past the myriad of platforms in search of the correct one. Checking your ticket, you come to find that the one that’s supposed to be yours lies at the very far end of the row. Not wanting to miss your ride, you hasten your pace.
As is on many planets, the traffic on your home one is largely automated, and so, there’s no chauffeur to welcome you at the entrance to the vehicle. Instead, as you’ve done many times before, you hop on the little pod that is to take you all the way to your home.
However, just as you’re about to close the car door behind you, something lodges in between.
There’s a moment of confusion. For a good few seconds, your brain is scrambling around, trying to find a logical explanation for why he has boarded the vehicle with you. However, any and all conceivable answers you come up with for your question each outrule themselves as soon as they pop up. There’s a terrible, twisting feeling in your gut.
Before you can even open your mouth to mumble out a confused greeting, he has shut the gates behind himself and sat down beside you, much akin to the way he did at your very first encounter. The car nudges into motion.
He doesn’t utter a thing. Unlike a few weeks prior, back when you were sitting at the cosy seats of the express with him on your side, you silently beg for him to say something, anything to explain what’s going on. Yet, he remains quiet.
You whisper out a “Hi” in a thin voice. Uncharacteristically, he merely responds to your words with a smile and a tense nod.
You don’t dare tear yoru eyes away from him as you reach into your back pocket to fish out your phone. However, just as you pull the device out, he snatches it right out of your grip.
Your heart sinks into your stomach. Even though you swear it’s him, even though you could put your life on the line that it’s still the Knight of Beauty who calls himself Argenti, his actions aren’t the same as of the person you know. With a surge of adrenaline, every last inch of your body is screaming at you, telling you that if you want to prevent what is about to happen to you, you need to get out of the car that very second. With haste, you reach for the door on the opposite side of the pod.
The handle doesn’t budge. Slowly, with a violent shiver raking down your back, you turn back around to face him. Even though the smile is the same, the warm glint in his green eyes hasn't changed, something about his demeanour has fundamentally, irrevocably shifted.
You never make it to your home. After the investigation on your disappearance launches, one could look at the surveillance camera tapes and see that you boarded the pod with an unknown man and then vanished without a trace during the journey. Recognizing people off of the video alone is a task that requires effort, and with no leads to go on, it’s going to be a while before they will be able to track the place where you were last seen, and by then, you will have long since departed from the planet.
˗ˏˋ ★ 3. Life: What is it like to live with them? How do they treat the darling?
When you wake up to the mean truth of your new life, the first few days are, of course, going to be him trying to keep you from launching yourself through the front wall of your temporary place of stay. He expected as much: Big changes cause people to act a little out of line, but it’s nothing he doesn’t know how to handle. Yes, he knows, it’s all strange and unfamiliar, and you must be so frightened since he just stole you away like that, but you know what, it’s all going to be alright! You’ll just need plenty of time to adjust, is all, and he has thoroughly prepared for that.
Needless to say, the first couple of days up to the entire week are rough on you. A betrayal of the sort he conducted is not only mentally incredibly damaging, even more so than a sudden, unexpected kidnapping from an unknown person might be, but the toll it takes on your body is immense. You go from laconic to spitting hate at him to apathetic to crying your eyes out. You ask him for your phone, whether or not your family knows, if the Express knows, where you are, where you’re going… He can hardly keep up with your questions, but despite your words being nearly incomprehensible, he answers them all with a calm, soothing voice, all while holding your hand.
Yet, with him, you’re going to have to enter the unpredictable sort of everyday life with him much too quickly. Because of logistic factors, he can’t afford to stay at one place for too long. Thus, even if he has to present them to you while you kick and scream at him, you fall into his routines way, way faster than you would like to.
The most prominent thing about living with him is that technically speaking, Argenti is a wanderer, meaning that when the day turns to night, he doesn’t have an actual home to return to. He does insist that he has a house somewhere in an entirely different corner of the cosmos, but with his occupation, having a fixed place of stay would be quite inconvenient. So, considering the mentioned circumstances, the two of you tend to stay in all kinds of accommodations ranging from encampments to higher-end hotels, depending entirely on your location at that time.
The consequence is, naturally, that you don’t actually get to own much. He has taken you far, far away from your home, and so, you don’t exactly have any of your personal belongings from your time in freedom with you. Of course, he allows you to have a handful of your own stuff, given that you’re able to transport them from place to place without much difficulty. That being said, the most you’ll get to ”own” are little trinkets such as jewellery and something like a sketchbook, for example.
He doesn’t allow you to have a phone for fairly obvious reasons (though he insists that it’s for your safety and nothing more), but he does let you use his every now and then. Contacting anyone is obviously off-limits — he’s going to have his eyes boring into you the entire time you’re using the device — but if you’re into games or reading online books, for instance, he doesn’t mind allowing you to indulge in those.
Activity-wise, your options are limited by the lack of a regular place of stay, but if he can help it, he puts a lot of effort into making having hobbies possible for you. Though he isn’t the stalking type of a yandere, he has more than a rough idea of what you’re into, and if your preferred pastimes are available wherever you are currently, you can be sure that he’s going to take you there. Art galleries, libraries, activity centres, botanical gardens, you name it. The handy thing about changing locations every week is that he doesn’t really have to worry about anyone recognizing your face, and so, as long as there aren’t many people around, you have a lot of freedom when it comes to spending your leisure time. That, and given you don’t try to run to the first person you see and start yapping about how he kidnapped you. Gosh.
Moreover, with someone like him, it’s needless to say that when it comes to basic necessities like food, warmth, sleep, and so on, you won’t ever have to fear him taking them away from you. He’s even more particular about them than you would like: No skipping meals or getting dehydrated with him, and certainly no staying up too late (or if you do, you’re going to have to wake up later). Beauty, in his eyes, includes taking care of oneself, and he would be a hypocrite if that didn’t extend to you.
He isn’t a health freak, by any means, but he does have a habit of taking care of you indirectly via not allowing certain things even if you were to explicitly ask for them: If you have a sweet tooth and poor self control, for example, he takes on a sort of a parental role, almost. You know, consuming too much sweets is detrimental for your health. It’s the same with things such as exercise, too: He doesn’t just let you rot in bed all day, no matter if that’s what you want. You’re going to have to walk around with him, whether you like it or not, he tells you almost like scolding a kid. He’s not being annoying with you on purpose, of course! He does it because he loves you. Really!
Then again, a routine in the sense of the word both is and isn’t something you get to enjoy with him, depending on the perspective. Meal times and such don’t usually alter that much, but on the other hand, you come to see quite quickly that he rarely has a plan for the day, and even if he did, things almost never turn out the way you had expected them to. He has a certain streak of impulsivity to him, albeit very minor. If your safety isn’t compromised by it, he might take on all sorts of side quests, being a knight first and foremost and all. You are, naturally, dragged along the entire time, and your opinion on the matter doesn’t weigh as much to him as one would think it would. Leaving you alone anywhere is certainly out of the question, so his hands are tied.
But, at the end of the day, you always have a bed to sleep in, albeit the quality of it alters. Overall, he treats you with what can only be called utmost respect. If you ignore everything... morally questionable in the ”relationship”, being with him is nothing short of a dream-come-true. Occasionally, you simply have to wonder whether or not he’s actually evil in the sense of the word at all.
˗ˏˋ ★ 4. Rules: What kind of rules do they enforce? How lenient are they? How do they keep their darling in check?
He doesn’t set out any rules for you. Literally, there are no restrictions for you on his end. If you inquire with him about it, he’s going to give you a questioning look and tell you that he doesn’t quite understand what you’re talking about.
The reality conflicts with the previous statement, however. Essentially, no, he doesn’t utilize any preventative measures when it comes to keeping you from doing stupid things, but stopping you while you’re doing them is a different case entirely.
He won’t let you touch certain stuff, for example. Not that there’s a lot to prod overall since the two of you change location every few days and can’t carry that much stuff with you, but things like his polearm are in your reach most of the time. He obviously won’t let you handle a weapon of all things — not without his surveillance, anyway — so the second you’re trying to pick up the lance, he’s by your side, gently grasping the weapon like a disapproving parent and twisting the thing out of your grasp.
He gets a tiny bit paranoid about your well-being in general, so in an ideal situation, you wouldn’t really be touching anything at all when he’s not around to see it. So, there are plenty of unspoken rules regarding that: No knives or other sharp items, no fire, no electronics, and most certainly no going anywhere without him merged to your side. Note that you’re still allowed to do all of the mentioned things, but you’re going to have to tolerate him breathing down your neck the entire time.
For the first few weeks or so after your abduction, whenever you go out, he makes sure to tie a ribbon around your and his wrist, connecting your hand to his. ”It is the one condition for the jaunt”, he says in a somewhat joking manner as you make an effort to rip the thing off of you, but the knot doesn’t as much as budge. He even leaves you an abundant amount of leeway to keep your distance from him if you would like — a couple of meters or so — but if you desire to leave your place of stay for even a short trip, the physical connection is what you’re going to have to tolerate. Though, he gets much more lenient the more time goes by (and as his confidence grows on the fact that he can and will catch you if you were to make a run for it), and truthfully speaking, when you get used to it, the ribbon isn’t actually that bad. It just gets a little irritating when you have to yank him in a certain direction if he gets distracted by the charm of whatever object he has found that time.
He’s really, truly kind of a chill yandere to have in this regard. He won’t restrict you in any bizarre or manipulative ways, and he won’t try to get into your head more than absolutely necessary. He trusts that you’re intelligent enough not to try to do anything stupid under his watch, and what’s best, you can still be stupid all you want — as long as he’s there to witness it and stop you if need be.
Lastly, as a bit of a sidenote: Try to swear at him, see what happens. Seriously, try it. The moment the first curse word leaves your mouth, his mouth falls open, gasping out loud, and he places his trembling hand over his chest, clutching his pearls like he’s going into cardiac arrest. You don’t even get to utter the rest of your sentence due to how genuinely shocked he appears. The most vulgar words you ever hear from the man are, like, ”goodness gracious” and ”oh, Idrila”, and he visibly shudders when he hears you call something ”stupid” or ”dumb”. It’s not necessarily a rule because he can’t exactly stop you from speaking your mind — even if that includes a few unholy phrases — but considering his reaction, it’s for the best that you watch your tongue.
˗ˏˋ ★ 5. Consequences: What kind of punishments will the darling face? How do they punish different offences?
In case anybody were to ever ask about it from him, he would swear up and down that he would never punish you. After all, what exactly would there be to punish? You could never do anything that would warrant him to even as little as raise his voice when he reprimands you, in his eyes. He can’t even begin to think of such cruel and savage acts as physical discipline!
It doesn’t mean that he won’t indirectly apply consequences on you, though — albeit, in his defence, they’re on the mild end of the spectrum. It’s little things like going out less when you’ve been difficult for him to deal with, or not getting you as many things to entertain yourself with, though the latter is a consequence of him not being able to leave you alone for long.
The things you can be subjected to his ”consequences” for are kind of big compared to what other yanderes might consider punishable. He doesn’t actually mind your escape attempts that much as he perhaps should: With the lifestyle he has the two of you lead, you’re bound to have lots and lots of windows for a potential getaway attempt. What kind of a man would he be to blame you for taking those? Obviously, he understands that you yearn for certain parts of your old life, but then again, you’re much safer with him. That being said, if he catches you with a lockpick or a similar, damning sort of evidence, his reaction isn’t much more intense than having found a large bug hiding in the corner of the room. With a few, lax words of scolding, he simply takes the item away, gives you a pat on the head, and takes the thing somewhere you can’t find it.
Secondly, trying to throw hands at him isn’t that big of a deal to him either, but it’s within limits. While he doesn’t take kindly to you trying to beat the rose petals out of him like a human piñata, as a knight, he can take a considerable amount of blows. He’s sort of similar to Phainon in the sense that in his mind, he thinks that you’re just blowing off some steam, and soon you’re going to be back to your usual, sweet self. Though, be aware if your behaviour is especially volatile, he might not leave you alone for a bit, even if you were to want a minute to cool down by yourself.
It’s a challenge for him to leave you alone in general, sort of. So, essentially, it could be considered a punishment to have to be in his suffocating presence more when you’ve done things that he deems disagreeable. You have gotten the image that it’s more him monitoring you than actually forcing you to be with him for that much: In favour of making sure that you don’t continue your shenanigans, he keeps a watchful eye on you. It gets a bit unnerving quite fast, but even if you are to point it out, he shrugs the whole thing off with the same, dumb smile on his face as always.
Heavily parallel to what comes to you planning an escape, the punishment he graciously bestows upon you for actually (almost) succeeding in fleeing from him isn’t that harsh of a storm to weather. Considering that you have plenty of possibilities for it as mentioned before, you’re bound to get it right at least a few times.
A very peculiar quality in him is that if you pull on his heartstrings for a long enough time, he might actually, in the sense of the phrase, let you escape. Though, be aware that it’s never for a long time: Although he sees the way your eyes light up when he gestures his arm towards the open door, he himself knows that he won’t be able to keep his own instincts at bay for too long. In a mere few minutes or after an hour at most, depending on what your current surroundings are, he’s going to be right on your tail, dragging a flailing and sniffling you back to him with a litany of apologies spilling out of his mouth.
The act isn’t sadistic by any means, and he doesn’t mean it to be. In his mind, while he reasons it with himself in the aftermath to be giving you a breather from his presence, it’s actually a split-second decision on his end. As much as he can take, he’s really adverse to seeing you in any kind of distress, and if getting you in a better mood means allowing you to have an adrenaline trip on the idea of suddenly getting your freedom back, so be it. For the first few times, you fall for the false hope of actually making it out of his clutches — you cook up hasty plans on the spot on how you’re going to make it back to your home planet, how you’re going to get his ass arrested, how you’re going to be united with your old friends, and so on — but after becoming all-too-familiar with the pattern of him dragging you right back, you can’t be bothered with the same cycle anymore. On those occasions, he obviously doesn’t have the right to punish you (other than being very adamant on holding you while you sleep that night) since he quite literally opened the gates to your liberty himself.
Intentional, wittier fleeing attempts aren’t that much worse, frankly speaking. You manage to slip away when he sleeps? No big deal, he probably woke up less than five minutes after you slipped away, anyway, and he’s already tailing you. When he has you back, the most you get as a punishment is a few locked doors and him tightly stuck to your side. The pros far outweigh the cons on this one.
However, there is one thing that he doesn’t let slide, and it’s severely trying to hurt him in any form. Just your physical strength isn’t sufficient to cause him grave enough harm — even something as graphic as a bloody nose doesn’t really upset him beyond the initial shock. We’re talking about truly grim injuries; the kind he would maybe have to fear for his life for.
Maybe you’ve fashioned yourself a make-shift weapon of some kind, or perhaps you’ve successfully stolen one of the kitchen knives for later use. You’re smart enough to understand that without a tool of some sort, there’s no way you’re going to catch him off-guard and so, with your limited options, you have come up with a macabre plan.
The intention isn’t to kill — you’re not sure if you could live with yourself after having done something like that — but with how narrow of a space your options have driven you inside of, you feel like you have exhausted all other alternatives. Gathering all your courage, you put the course of events into action.
He’s sleeping on the couch with his hair sprawled over the pillow and his hands resting over his stomach, serene and undisturbed. With how his armour is discarded somewhere in the room, the window of opportunity that has been presented to you is near perfect. Ignoring how droplets of cold sweat run down the back of your neck, you dip your fingers under your waistband to search for the blade hidden between the folds of your clothing.
Clutching the weapon with both of your hands, you sneak closer to the man, watching your step, holding your breath. Your eyes are fixed at his closed lashes, anticipating the moment he might open them and find out about what you’re about to do, but both to your relief and the overwhelming anxiety growing inside of you, he seems to be fast asleep. Silently observing the steady rise and fall of his chest, you inch closer to him, slowly lifting your hands to prepare for the act you’re about to conduct. You fix your grip once, twice, thrice, making sure that the handle isn’t going to slip.
You swallow down a thorny lump in your throat. Taking in the sight of his tranquil, resting form, you take a moment to prepare yourself for defying the core of human nature. Then, as you stop in front of him, you inhale a single gulp of air, raise the knife over your head, and plunge it down at his chest.
So much happens in the span of a single second that the perceptions that register in your brain are hardly enough to construct a proper picture of the moment. Just as the blade is about to pierce his waistcoat, his body twitches, his eyes shoot open, and his hands fly to yours to catch the weapon. In his drowsy state, the dodge is imperfect, however, and one of his hands lands misses its target and latches around the razor-sharp edge instead. Bright red blood sprouts from the gash that tears across the entire length of his palm.
Your breathing has gone so erratic that your head is getting light. With wide eyes, you stare back at his own which are directed at the doom lingering less than an inch above his chest. The expression on his face is difficult to decipher: There’s disbelief, there’s shock — those are given — but behind the initial stun, there’s an emotion you can’t quite find a suitable word for.
Then, his gaze moves on to yours. He looks at you with his lips ajar, seemingly ignoring the stabbing pain he’s undoubtedly experiencing. A near-silent gasp is all that leaves his mouth.
With speed and precision you’re quite not used to, he catches both of your wrists with the hand wrapped around the blade, staining the ends of your sleeves with his blood. The warm liquid seeps into the fabric and dyes your skin in bright red, painting you in the macabre colours of your own intentions.
Slowly, he pushes himself up from the couch. Your eyes dart all over the room, searching for any possible escape route, but to no avail. It’s like time has settled still: For a while, nothing seems to move: Not you, not him, the air, the atmosphere. Not until your darting gaze travels up his chest, his neck, and finally, his face.
You don’t recall ever seeing the countenance on his face before. Standing straight right in front of you, he looks down at you with a scowl. The usual, pleasant smile you’re used to is long gone, and his brows have flattened into a disdainful and outright cold expression. There’s not a single hint of the tender and caring person to be found behind the apathetic, needle-sharp glare directed at you.
He then closes his eyes. You see the way his shoulders heave along with the deep breath he takes in. Simultaneously, the grip around your wrists suddenly tightens, and you’re forced to let go of your weapon. The thing drops on the floor unceremoniously, clinking against the tiles a few times and painting the ground in red speckles before landing by your feet.
Wordlessly, he takes hold of your arm with his uninjured hand and heads towards the bathroom. In your shaky state, you nearly fall over, tripping over your own legs. Yet, mustering up what must be the last few bits of his patience, he pauses his steps to allow you to find your balance again before dragging you along.
He sits you down on the edge of the tub. Letting go of you, he allows your hands to fall to your sides where the blood on your sleeves defiles the pure white porcelain.
By the time he turns the tap on, you’re hardly even aware of your own surroundings. Through a foggy lens, you watch him bring his injured palm under the running water. The stream quickly turns carmine as he washes the wound down without as much as wincing at the feeling. You can see the distinct line the knife has left on his skin, the flesh that has been cut open.
You fall into a state of disconnect as the minutes pass by. Silently, you stare at a single spot at his feet, your eyes glossing over. Though you listen to and comprehend what he’s doing, none of it really registers in your brain. He cleans the gash, pats his hand down with a cotton ball, scrubs the stains out of the cuffs of his shirt. Intuitively, you’re aware of how the dizzying, inescapable scent of iron lingers in the air, yet it all is much too far out of your reach. An empty, whirring hum inside your head blocks it all out.
It’s only when he finishes wrapping gauze around his hand that you’re shaken out of your trance. Making his way back over to the tub, he pauses to stand directly in front of you. Unable to quite think straight, you simply stare at the sight of his chest; right where your blade was supposed to pierce through.
Wordlessly, he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He pulls you into an awkward embrace, urging your head to rest against his heart as he often likes to do. Only this time, the action doesn’t carry the same warmth it usually does.
Afterwards, he gets you out of your bloodied clothes before seeing you over to the bedroom. In his stand-offish state of mind, he simply locks the door behind him and leaves you to your own devices for the time being. He doesn’t think you’re capable of causing further harm that day: The soulless look in your eyes is enough to convince him of that.
In the darkness of the bedroom, you lie on your back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Just before the slumber overtakes you, you can hear the tap turning on again.
Though, intuitively speaking, it should be the other way around, the one that suffers more mental damage from the ordeal is you, not him. So, resorting to trying to wound him physically is not something you find yourself doing after the first and only time — not in a very long while, anyway. It doesn’t matter how adamant you are in wanting your autonomy back, the way he behaves, what his body language conveys in the moment instills an undeniable sense of guilt in you. It’s a beyond horrifying mix of emotions you thought you would never feel with him, and even when all the signs of the event taking place have been scrubbed off and stitched together, you can’t shake the unnerving sight of him staring down at you without a single ounce of sympathy on his face.
He himself isn’t really all that different in the following days, though that’s only the surface-level impression. If you observe closely, you can see the subtle difference in the way he acts, how he makes sure to put everything sharp out of your reach, how he double-checks the locks, and so on. He doesn’t treat you any worse than he would in normal circumstances, though: Overnight, he has gone back to the kindness and gentleness you’re used to, carrying on like you never did anything bad, but the bandage around his hand tells a different story.
˗ˏˋ ★ 6. Emotions I: How do they show love? How do they attempt to make the darling love them?
Oh my, oh my-my-my, there are a lot of ways he expresses his love to you with; so many that you can hardly even process all the affection you’re being showered with. He’s a hopeless romantic through and through, and so, you can expect nothing less than being drowned in all he can offer you.
First and foremost, the vigilant instinct is off the charts with him. It’s a certain streak in his personality: He has an overbearing urge to convey to you that you’re being protected, that you’re safe with him. This manifests in things like him lingering in your personal space a little (a lot) more than you would like, or him fixing your hair or your clothes for a bit too many times to be comfortable. Whenever you’re on the move, his arm is always, always slotted around your shoulders like a vice. Then again, though he means it as a sort of a grounding gesture, the message that gets across is more along the lines of ”you’re not going anywhere”. Moreover, he’s also very insistent on little things like never having you walk on the inner edge of the sidewalk, nor does he allow you to hop off even small ledges without him holding your hand, and the list goes on.
Furthermore, hand-holding is a must with him. The longest distance he allows you to wander off from him is more often than not the length of your and his arm added together. After you get past the ribbon phase, you come to find that the alternative is not any better — it’s even worse, practically speaking. Though, if you’re really insistent on not having your hands linked at nearly all times, as the forgiving soul he is, he could maybe allow you to walk around on your own every once in a while, depending on whether or not you’ll be able to properly rebuke his opinion on the matter. With him, it’s best if you have even a little knack for argumentation.
Physical closeness is an important factor to him on the whole. He’s not daft when it comes to knowing the perks of it by no means: He understands the amount of power touch holds when it comes to sharing affection, and he most certainly knows how to utilize it to the max. Still, though he may sometimes cross the line, he’s actually very skilled in walking the narrow border between enough and too much regarding having his hands on you. Nevertheless, he requires his daily hugs, of course, and if you’re not resisting him with your teeth and nails, he does slip in a few kisses here and there. If he gets the image that it all makes you extremely anxious, he tones it down a little, but you’re never going to completely get rid of the physical side, no matter how you fight back. And, if you’re not that resistant, he may just pull you in for a good old, sappy make-out session on the daily.
Fleeting brushes are massively his thing, too. Whenever he passes you by, he makes sure to rest the palm of his hand on the small of your back for a moment, and each time he comes up to you to say something, he can’t help but tuck your hair behind your ear or caress the crown of your head. He does it all with a terribly loving smile on his face, conveying nothing but pure admiration for you — even when you would almost rather have him completely livid at you.
Then, of course, he hardly ever lets you sleep without him touching you in some shape or form. He isn’t actually the type to completely suffocate you in his sleep like someone like, say, Mydei tends to do, but he does prefer to have his arms on you. The position is chiefly negotiable, and he defers to whatever works the best for you, given that your requests aren’t too ludicrous.
Though, if your quality of sleep is suffering from him holding you through the night, or if you’re showing genuine signs of distress when his fingertips dance along your bare shoulder, he isn’t opposed to letting you rest alone. It’s a heart-wrenching thing for him to allow, and he makes it known by dropping you the most lachrymose snippet of a verse that has ever reached your ears, but, whatever makes you sleep at night — literally. You’re lucky that his caring inclination overrides his self-interested one.
Being in bed with you in the innocent sense is a very intimate experience to him. Sleeping next to one another is the ultimate display of vulnerability, and so, the last thing he wants is for you to get so uncomfortable with the idea of it that you’ll never allow him to hold you while you rest. That being said, he often settles for small acts of physical love such as gently caressing your arm or playing with your hair while your back is turned to him. When you’re already half asleep, you sometimes get awakened by the feeling of something softly, nearly imperceptibly tugging on your locks. If you allow him to, or rather, if you don’t explicitly tell him not to, he also likes to draw patterns on your back in the kind of fashion where you have to wonder if he’s tracing an actual shape or if the tip of his finger is just travelling wherever.
On the other end of the spectrum, as is presumable, he has got quite a way with words. It’s like the man is an ever-open book of poems that just never stops giving, even when you would like it to. You have been woken up more than once by him showering you in all of the verbal love he could possibly muster up at a moment’s notice — your personal alarm clock, if you will. He compares you to the ethereal beauty of the universe, even going as far as likening you to Idrila herself (though within limits) yet the words that come out of his mouth are so sophisticated that you’re not sure if you even understand him entirely.
It also manifests as little compliments here and there. Maybe your hair looks particularly nice, or perhaps he’s just admiring the way you’re immersed in your pastime of choice; he’s going to let his thoughts be known. His praise is so genuine that it rarely fails to elicit at least a little reaction from you, ranging from a mild warmth on your cheeks to having to stick your head under icy cold water. You never know in advance what it is that’s going to come out of his mouth.
Additionally, on the whole, he’s all for the most cliché, most soul-cringing, most unbelievably sappy stuff that even most romance authors are scared to write about. Whatever you might have thought when you still didn’t quite know him thoroughly could never have even scratched the surface of the things he’s willing to do for your love — or to attempt to get it from you, anyway.
You best be sure that he gets you to dance with him every once in a while. You don’t have to be well-versed by any means — you could have three and a half legs for all he cares — he’s still going to have you waltz with him, and it’s non-negotiable. Occasionally, when he’s feeling particularly lovey-dovey, he gets the gramophone out and puts some three-beat tunes on, walks up to you and kneels in front of you with his hand extended out like you were a couple in one of those overly mawkish Penaconian romance films. The gesture is exaggeratedly amorous that you don’t know whether to cringe or trigger spontaneous self-combustion right then and there, but needless to say, there’s no escaping him on this one. And, if you have the right attitude for it, dancing with him is among the more pleasant moments you could have with him.
Obviously, he buys you a bouquet of roses whenever you’re out. Obviously. Similarly, love letters are to his liking, and you get a lot of them. From small notes to what feels like full-blown literary analyses, you’re not safe from his verbal talents even in text form. Since you’re hardly ever petty enough to simply throw them in the bin, both in fear of managing to crack through his overly saccharine performance and him going out of his way to write more in the lost pieces’ place, the papers quickly build up. Time to pick up origami-folding.
There are lots of smaller things that typify his cheesy tendencies as well. He plants kisses on the back of your hand whenever he’s able, he sometimes insists on princess-carrying you to bed when you’re already half-asleep on the couch, he tucks your hair behind your ears, that sort of thing. It all comes across as very gentlemanly and chivalrous, true to his nature.
Finally, please, let him rub your feet. Not even in any strange sense, either; literally, just please, let him rub your feet. Or, if there’s really that big of a threshold for you to allow him to do that, he’s alright with just the calves. Aren’t you tired from all the walking you had to do that day? He knows how much your legs must be aching from the exertion, and massaging them could help you sleep. ”No”? Alright, alright, then, what about your hands? Give him your palm, and he’s going to trace the lines and dips with the tip of his finger, tickling the nerve-endings with a touch so feather-light that a weaker person would pass out from the mere thought of it. He’s into certain acts of service like that; ones that inherently pedestalize you in a sense. And, if you don’t shy away from the contact, he might just spend the next hour pressing the pad of his thumb into the arch of your foot with the most loving expression on his face.
˗ˏˋ ★ 7. Emotions II: How do they deal with the darling’s emotions? How are outbursts handled? How do they attempt to comfort the darling?
Considering his nature, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he has a bit of a mother goose inside of him. He falls into the category of caring yanderes: He could never even entertain the thought of neglecting your mental well-being in the sense of being rude or denying certain necessities from you.
Every day, even multiple times in one, he asks you how you’re feeling, if there’s anything he can do to brighten your mood, if there’s something in particular that has been causing you distress. Of course, the answer he’s looking for isn’t the ”Let me go” that your first response always is, but after he gets past that, he’s actually very attentive when it comes to looking after your feelings. He wants to, no, he needs to know it all: From your deepest fears to the tiniest things that might have made you happy that day, please, tell him all of it. He holds your hand through it all, no matter what kind of things he gets to or has to listen to.
Of course, if the free venting sessions aren’t enough of an outlet for you, which they most likely are not, from day one, he’s prepared to weather your emotional outbursts in their rawest form. Whether your expression of choice is screaming at him until your vocal cords barely function anymore or crying your eyes out for the better part of the day, he’s ready to take it all.
The former is a bit counter-intuitive from the perspective of effectiveness in the sense that yelling at him hardly gets any reaction from him. Where certain other yanderes have a much lower tolerance for you raising your voice at them, he takes it all with a sympathetic expression on his features. That, and he responds to all of your screeching with very eloquent and calm words, to the point that you have an overwhelming urge to lunge at him and slap his brain into the next galaxy over. He’s so infuriatingly calm and seemingly concerned about you that you simply have to wonder if it’s all a part of his master-plan to provoke you into spiritual degradation. Even if you’re throwing pieces of furniture at him, he’s still genuinely trying to figure out what has made you angry. You simply can’t win.
It somehow doesn’t appear to register in his brain that you’re actually, like... mad mad. Yes, he can see that your distress — that much is obvious — but for you to be so livid? He doesn’t quite understand why you having to be with him is so afflicting to you. Not in the sense that he would consider himself to be some blessing from the Aeons or anything — he’s a humble man — but he treats you with utmost care to the best of his ability, so what could it be that you’re so terribly perturbed over? With that thought, he spirals into the same line of thoughts he’s usually contemplating: How can he, within the limited circumstances, make you feel better? Of course, removing the said limits themselves isn’t in the equation, and so, the two of you keep spinning around in circles regarding the matter.
Then, on the other hand, he’s very reactive to tears, both in the good and in the bad. Unlike with anger, he’s absolutely stellar at dealing with the more sorrowful emotions you might have. With him, you notice quite early on, that crying gets a response out of him that you couldn’t ever hope to get with red-hot rage. The second the thinnest sheen of glimmer appears at your waterline, he’s already rushing to you with his hands out, ready to gather you up in his arms.
If it’s something relatively minor and not a full-on breakdown that’s going on with you, his attitude towards the matter is more on the lighter side. Especially if it’s something he can fix in the moment, he tends to scoop you for a tight hug, give you a sigh and a sympathetic smile, and assure you that ”whatever it is will all be gone soon”. It’s not that he doesn’t take your woes seriously — he very much does — but sometimes, the best remedy to problems like that is a few encouraging words and the promise of it getting better. He takes the role of the pillar you may rest against and lean on for support, sort of, and you best believe that he takes the duty very seriously.
More often than not, though, what’s eating away at you isn’t solvable with just some surface-level consolation, and to his horror, he realizes that he might not be able to cure this one. It causes him to experience a gut-twisting sense of inadequacy: He’s unable to repair what he swore to you he would always take care of, and as the realization dawns on him, the smile fades from his features. The aforementioned mother goose is very much present here, because after the initial shock, the unstoppable flood of ”what’s wrong”s starts.
He urges you to sit down with audible desperation in his voice, begging you to please pour your heart out to him in whatever pace you’re the most comfortable with, though his tone conveys an underlying sense of hurry regarding the matter. He does have a bit of a habit to push to get an answer out of you, but then again, in his mind, there’s not much else he can do. Though, if you would rather have him hold you for a bit before you’re ready to talk, he’s most certainly not opposed to it. It’s a ”only a firm no is a real no, and everything else is a yes”-situation, sort of: As you don’t push him away with all your might, he reads the situation as you wanting that contact from him. By that point, you’re much too burned-out to resist him further, and he goes through with all the physical comfort you would ever want. Cautiously, as if you were made of glass, he pushes the side of your head against his chest and weaves his fingers in your hair in an awkward, half-lying position he holds you up in. He couldn’t care less of the way his joints burn at the strain, though: With you in his arms, he can hardly feel any pain at all.
Truthfully speaking, your tears shake him in a sense. Hugging you more of a comfort to him than it most likely is to you. Sure, he repeats reassuring things like ”It is going to be alright, I will make it all alright” and ”You are safe, you are safe right here”, but they’re as much for him as they are for you. As he holds you, he can’t help but thank the Aeons with every inch of his being for having been granted the blessing of getting to care for you.
Then again, for the cunning sort of darlings, if you’re looking to get something out of him in the messy, emotional way, a prime way to do so is to get the tears flowing. As much as he’s aware of it himself, it’s ridiculously easy to get under his skin with a sob or two. In times like that, you have him wrapped around your finger to an extent you could never even begin to understand, so if there’s something he hasn’t agreed on under normal circumstances, you might have a better shot at getting it when his resolve has been wavered a bit. Though, be aware that your performance is going to have to be on the more convincing end since the man isn’t actually as air-headed as he seems.
˗ˏˋ ★ 8. Thing to exploit: What are the darling’s best chances at escaping? Are there things the darling can use to their advantage? How can the darling make things easier for themselves?
If there’s one good thing about being Argenti’s darling, it’s that considering all the other alternatives you could end up with, he really isn’t that difficult of a yandere to escape from. Of course, it’s still a challenge to overcome in its own right, but if you put your mind into it, it’s very much doable and within reason.
The main problems you’re going to run into when trying to flee from him are the fact that more often than not, you’re in the middle of nowhere with literally no direction to escape in unless you would like to end up in space, and also the fact that you’re basically conjoined. He’s very particular about not letting you out of his sight for more time than is absolutely necessary, and the latter is the main way he exercises his power over you. So, even if you were to successfully pull a fast one on him, the chase would be over in a heartbeat.
Still, there are bound to be small openings of time where you could technically orchestrate an escape. Namely, when he’s asleep. He doesn’t really let you out of his sight other than when he rests (rest assured that if he didn’t require sleep, you would have to bear his yapping around the clock), and even then you’re still glued to him the overwhelming majority of time, but if you were to manage to slip out of bed, unlock the door, and make your way out, you would have regained your freedom. Hence, lockpicks and such are valuable utensils with him since a forceful breakout isn’t something that really works. He sleeps ridiculously lightly, though, so you’ll need a considerable amount of luck and soundless steps to pull it off.
Of course, something like poisoning him is on the table, too. He places a considerable amount of trust in you in your day-to-day life, and thus, slipping something in his food wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Acquiring a suitable substance for the task is an entirely different problem, however, which is something to regard. Injuring him — or rather, trying to injure him — is another risky sort of a deal since the man’s reflexes are on another level entirely, and he appears to have some sort of a sixth sense when it comes to that, but if you give zero fucks about having to try it multiple times, you’re bound to succeed at some point. If not, then it might not be the route for you.
In relation to the faith he places in you, it’s one of the handiest tools the darling can utilize with him. Though he’s half aware of it himself, he’s extremely easy to manipulate if you know where to press. He’s delusional in the sense that he wants to believe the best of you, no matter the situation, so if you’re skilled enough in conjuring up plausible enough excuses, he’s quite likely to cave in. Tying to the same point, if you keep up good behaviour for a long enough period of time, he may start forgetting to lock the windows or such. At the start of your captivity, he’s pretty meticulous about making sure there are no escape routes available for you, but lull him into a false sense of trust for long enough, and the case might become entirely different.
Moreover, with him, there aren’t many people that would, or even could offer their hand out to help you, for obvious reasons. The tricky thing about being his darling is that while there are people searching for you, he changes scenery so often that in case different star systems don’t start working together on the rescue efforts, whatever little aid the authorities can provide doesn’t make much of a difference. There are bound to be lots and lots of inter-astral disappearance cases, and unfortunately, you’re not exactly that special among them, legally speaking. The last reliable sighting of you was Aeons-know-how-many light years away from your current location, and with the details the ones tracking you have, it’s safe to say that help from outside sources isn’t coming in a long time.
Though, there is one person that you get to see every once in a while that could technically be the key to your autonomy: Boothill.
You’re not quite sure what the relationship between the two of you is — they’re both clearly from the quirky end of the personality spectrum — but if you’re brave enough to ask him for help, he just might assist you in getting out of your little predicament. He is, however, a tough nut to crack in the sense that he himself has a difficult time grasping what the issue at hand is since Argenti doesn’t show any external signs of remorse regarding the situation. As clever as he is, with certain things, he’s a bit… daft. That, plus as much as he would like to aid you, he has his own missions to take care of, and besides, the Knight of Beauty apparently holds a special place in his heart. He may very well decide that the redhead’s business is not his to delve into, and that would be that. There aren’t really any negative consequences to seeking out his help, but prepare yourself for the disappointment of his answer being ”Sounds like a you problem, laugh-my-bootycheeks-off” and a half-assed pat on the back.
Though, if you do get him to lend you a hand, Boothill is a very viable solution. Like Argenti does, he travels from place to place as his occupation, so he can take you far away quite quickly. Still, be aware that he himself might harbour some more selfish motivations for doing so: Snatching up a darling hanging out in the open might just be his style.
When it comes to general things to make your life easier with Argenti, the most obvious thing is just to... be nice. Be nice to him, talk kindly to him, let him touch you, allow him to entertain his romantic fantasies. It doesn’t get much easier than that, especially since the behaviour he desires of you is mostly passive. Essentially, you just need to let him do his thing, and he will be as content as can be. If you really want to amp it up, you can start initiating the interactions more, and the guy is going to melt into a puddle on the floor. It is, however, not required to achieve the best life you could have with him; he’s flexible like that.
˗ˏˋ ★ 9. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes? What unique qualities do they possess?
The first thing that sets Argenti apart from most of his peers is that he doesn’t attempt to conceal his emotions around you at all. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he laughs openly, he says what’s on his mind, and most distinctively, he sheds tears in front of you.
It doesn’t have to be any special occasion for him to cry in front of you. All kinds of things have him tearing up: cute animals, courageous deeds of others, beautiful scenery, and most importantly, of course, you in any possible context. You could be in the middle of stuffing your mouth with food, and he would still rest his gaze on you with his eyes glistening like you were the most ethereal sight he has ever stumbled upon — and frankly, you are just that to him.
Then, of course, he does sometimes cry out of grief, anger or frustration, too. If you’ve done something particularly heinous (according to his standards, anyway), he might shed a few tears while he reprimands you. It’s never anything overblown — the emotions he expresses are genuine — but it still never fails to make you halt your sentence midway. He’s quick to gracefully dry his eyes on the back of his glove, of course, and the situation at hand continues like nothing ever happened, yet finally being on the receiving end of vulnerability between the two of you does leave a strange feeling in your chest.
Secondly, there’s one thing about him that’s not quite visible to just everyone’s eyes. Namely, if one hasn’t known the man for that long, they would think that he has next to nothing going on in his brain. It’s like he constantly has the latest episode of the HSR universe’s equivalent of Temptation Island on a loop in his mind, and just about everything else aside from Idrila and you seems to hold very little value in his thoughts.
It’s not the entirety of the case, however: You come to see quite quickly in to your captivity that he’s actually exceedingly intelligent in certain areas. For instance, a lot of the time, you have a feeling that he isn’t telling you everything that’s on his mind though it might first seem like he does. The shifts in his ever-smiley expression are very subtle, to the point where you have to consciously look for them in order to understand him.
As an example, his responses to your questions are occasionally a tad bit too witty not to have a hidden meaning behind them. One time, after the cycle of almost allowing you to escape has once again renewed itself, you might express your doubts towards him, you might tell him that ”he’s giving you hope on purpose” with tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. However, instead of immediately frantically denying the claim as you assume him to, he tilts his head to the side with a peculiar glint in his eye. ”Perhaps you should consider not attempting to flee at all, then”, he says in a tone that’s much too cheerful compared to what his words are implying. Of course, he knows you know, and after admiring your bewildered expression for a moment, he finishes the statement by bringing his index finger to his lips and mouthing out a ”shh”, all while giving you a bit of a cheeky smile. You find the gesture beyond unnerving. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if he truly is as delusional as he lets you believe.
Finally, it’s a relatively minor detail, but given that he’s able not to, he prefers not to wear his armour around you. In his mind, it has something to do with chivalric behaviour, almost: With you around, he isn’t necessarily on Idrila duty (although it’s basically a 24-hour job), and to make that line distinct, he prefers to lay his weapons down for the time being. That, and it’s admittedly much easier to embrace you when there’s not a thick plate of metal in between the two of you.
He gets into a sort of a leisure mode with you. Aside from getting rid of the armour, he might tie his hair up, for instance. There’s a clear difference in his demeanour, too: Though he’s still very much his usual, flamboyant self, his energy levels seem to drop a little. The chatterbox side of him is cast aside in favour of allowing the two of you to linger in silence. In general, such moments are a welcome change to you since he can get quite passionate with his words, but then again, there’s something vaguely unsettling about witnessing him behaving almost... normally.
NS-FW
˗ˏˋ ★ 10. General look: How does their sexuality manifest? What does sex mean to them? How horny are they?
First and foremost, Argenti views sex as he does many other things: something beautiful. It’s an activity where two lovers get together to appreciate each other in the carnal way — to him, anyway. As they say, he doesn’t fuck; he makes love.
He isn’t really a major step in any direction when it comes to the topic of libido. The matters of the sexual realm of things in general don’t concern him that much, to be fair: There’s nothing taboo about sex to him, but at the same time, he’s the polite sort of reserved respecting the matter. That’s not to say that he doesn’t indulge in whatever sexual cravings he has every now and then, but he does so in a demure, deferential way. Plus, the crude kind of sex talk is certainly not his thing. Don’t use the word “dick” around him.
He is, however, open to discuss the matter, but it has to be done in very light terms. Referring to any organs as curse words will kill the conversation, and anything too violent is going to have him questioning the other party’s intentions. His view of sex is, in that way, very limited to the idea of what ”loving” and ”caring” is. Some would likely consider him a bit of an oddball for the opinions he holds in the matter.
That, and he doesn’t think of certain things as sexual that would widely be deemed so. Bare skin doesn’t in itself get his downstairs going, unlike some others who would have to excuse themselves at the sight of your unclothed ankle, and so, he could very well see you walking around the room with your shirt off and he wouldn’t think much about it (other than the fact that you’re ethereal, of course). Though, a lot of things do excite him: A specific sort of banter, banalities relating to the theme, fleeting touches, that sort of thing. He himself needs to be warmed up to the idea, almost.
Your presence changes the dynamic a little, however, as you might have guessed. He still remains as respectful as ever towards you: He doesn’t comment on anything, doesn’t really touch anywhere he isn’t supposed to, and he can hold eye contact even if you’re wearing a low-cut top. Yet, when he goes to bed at night, he would be lying to himself if he said that certain kinds of thoughts weren’t rushing through his mind. It’s not as much about the specific scenarios that keep him awake but the overall feeling you have him facing. It’s a tingling sensation in his fingertips, yearning for the experience of conquering you in all of your glory, down to your insides.
˗ˏˋ ★ 11. Limit: How long does it take for them to have the darling? What is the first time like? Do they care about the darling’s willingness?
It’s likely that from the very first second you spent in his captivity, you’ve assumed that he would be building all the touches and caresses up to the unspeakable. If you were to ask him about it (bonus points if you’re sniffling during), the answer you would get would be him nearly fainting from the idea before then reassuring you that he would never do something so horrible to you, but alas, the actions don’t match the words with him.
If there’s some credit to be given to him, it’s that out of the wide spectrum of yanderes, he’s holding the prize of giving you the most time to get ready for the act. In a way, he really does care about the fact that you’re unwilling to get with him, but only up to a point. Namely, when the delulu side of his brain starts making up excuses for why it all is necessary, much like how he reasoned the kidnapping part in itself, it’s pretty much over for you.
At first, it’s “never in a million years”, then it grows into “what if”, before eventually ending up at “when”. The justification is an odd mix of arguments that could be refuted with common sense, but as is with the rest of his thoughts of dubious nature, he doesn’t really spare energy on considering trivial factors like that. The points supporting his own point of view are enough: It’s going to feel good, it’s the greatest act of worship he could ever bestow upon you, and it’s what lovers do. That’s about it, and any and all complaints will be overridden by the aforementioned claims.
It starts with lingering looks on your body. You might be talking about whatever — maybe you’re expressing your distaste at something, maybe it’s just some tired back-and-forth, or it could be discussing what to have for dinner that evening — but for a moment, you’re pretty certain that his eyes flick downward from yours. Having been caught off-guard by the unusual gesture, the sentence you were in the middle of dies down unfinished, and only then does he realize how obvious he was being about his antics. He quickly brushes it off, asking you what the problem might be and to please continue with whatever you were saying, but there’s a mean sense of dread bubbling up in your stomach regarding the thing, no matter how tiny.
Then, it grows into touches. You don’t recall ever having him rest his hands at such a risqué area before, but there they are, holding you by your hips, a little too close to the territory you’re frightened about him invading. You quickly swat his hands away, jumping away from him like a trapped animal, yet he doesn’t quite seem to grasp the weight of the gesture he just performed. Instead, he simply smiles back at you, tilting his head to the side as if to inquire about your high-strung reaction.
He knows what he’s doing, of course, up to a degree. In his mind, the strategy is getting you used to the idea of having his hands on you, to being the target of the physical sort of love he wants to shower you in. It’s a slow process, and that much he’s willing to grant you for the sake of your sanity. Still eventually, it’s all going to build up to what you have been fearing the most.
One night, after having been allowed to bathe yourself, you come back to your shared bedroom to find him sitting on the foot of the bed with his hair tied up and his black dress shirt unbuttoned. He has lit a couple of candles on the nightstand which now illuminate the room in a warm hue. The sheets, you notice, have been arranged in an unusual way, almost like they’re creating a space in the middle of the bed.
His eyes are fixated on your form, your short nightdress, the little droplets that still cover your bare legs, your damp hair. You don’t know what exactly it is about the way he looks at you, but immediately, you know better than to freeze in place. Without missing a beat, you lunge back towards the bathroom door.
But oh, his reflexes are to be reckoned with. Before your hand can even brush the handle, his own is already wrapped around your arm, pulling you back towards your impending fate. He speaks out a few reassuring words, telling you that ”you need not be afraid”, but his serene voice does nothing but instill deep, unadulterated terror inside of you. In your panic, you try to rip his fingers off of you, digging your nails into the delicate skin on the back of his hand, but to no avail. He doesn’t as much as flinch, let alone express anything but a tiny bit of sympathy towards the hysteria you’re rapidly building up. Quickly, you resort to the last thing you can think of which is begging with him, but even before you voice out the pleas, you know nothing is going to deter him anymore. You can feel it in his presence; the way he has made up his mind.
You’re pulled towards the bed with more strength than you’re used to receiving from him. In a clumsy movement, you land on the mattress on your elbows. The shadow in the shape of his silhouette is cast over the sheets, looming over your quivering form.
Immediately, you scramble backwards, retreating towards the headrail of the bed. In seconds, your breathing has gone from steady to completely uncontrolled: Your shoulders heave up and down in haphazard patterns, feeding into your horror like gasoline a flame. Your head is getting light, there’s a whirring noise in your ears, stars flash at the edges of your vision, but despite it all, you hold onto the last bits of determination in you. Twisting to the side, you reach for the burning candles on the bedside table.
It is, however, no use — you’re much too slow. Giving you a gentle sigh, he climbs onto the bed after you, quickly closing the distance in between the two of you. Completely ignoring the way you do your absolute best to push him back while fumbling towards the side of the bed, he catches your hands in his before leaning forward, effectively pinning you under his weight. Your chest elevates in the rhythm of your erratic breaths, your eyes are blown wide open, and strings of ”no-no-no” and ”please-please-please” slide past your lips like a mantra.
You don’t dare look up at his eyes hovering much too short of a distance above yours, but if you were to, you would be met with the definition of a love-drunkenness. It’s not difficult to picture the image of his pupils nearly spilling past his irises, the bright red blush on his cheeks, or even the way he swipes his tongue over your lips.
Then, he asks you how you’re feeling. The question is spoken in his usual, soft tone, without a single hint of exertion present in his voice.
You’re unsure how to react — so much so that for a moment, you forget to breathe entirely. Simply staring up at him, out of pure bewilderment, you don’t make any effort to move when he manoeuvres your hands so that he can hold them in a single one of his. ”You are safe”, he repeats to you as he cups your chin in a touch so tender it could graze your very soul. ”Nothing is going to bring harm to you”, he continues. His hand separates from your face and instead slides under your head. Carefully, he cradles your head to his chest as if he was consoling you for a fleeting sorrow.
You can’t even begin to understand a single bit of what’s going on inside his head. Desperately, you yell at him to stop, but the words are muffled by his bare skin. If he feels the way your tears seep into the open collar of his shirt, he doesn’t care. Instead, his fingers leave your hair in favour of wandering lower.
Your brain begins shutting down. You hardly register the way his free hand peels up the hem of your dress before taking hold of the waistband of your underwear. Distantly, you hear him talk, rambling on about something, telling you how ”he is going to take care of you” while his touch nears what’s between your legs. His ponytail cascades down the side of your face, tickling your cheek as it pools down beside your head. Your vision blurs.
However, he refrains from indulging himself just yet. Rather, he resorts to stroking his palm along your inner thigh in a soothing manner. He assures you that the two of you are going to have plenty of time that night, that he isn’t going to rush, all while his hand slips beneath your gown, glides up your stomach, past your ribs, and finds your breast. Caressing your flesh in slow, circular motions, he looks down at your fear-stricken expression with nothing but adoration on his own.
By the time his fingers enter you, you’re far too gone to understand what’s happening around you. You feel how his digits breach you, how the smooth curve of his palm rubs against your clit as he does, the strength which he uses to hold your arms down against the mattress. Tears have long since spilled past your cheeks, instead staining the pillow under your head, and while you’re still coherent, the words you utter have lost their meaning.
He pulls his appendages out, then pushes them back in, then out then in, and then he curls them against the front wall of your insides. A pleasurable sensation tweaks up your stomach, and your entrance contracts around him. He smiles down at you.
The first time with him is very schematic, for the lack of a better term. After he has spent his sweet time prepping you, his hand goes to his trousers. You decide to save yourself from having to witness the sight of what is about to breach you. Letting out a choked sob, you squeeze your eyes shut and listen to his downy voice as you feel his cock nudge at your cunt, right before it begins pushing into you.
It doesn’t really hurt. Not that it doesn’t feel uncomfortable — you’re much too tense for it to ignite anything but a festering sense of tautness in your bits — but it doesn’t sting. You lie still as a statue as you bear the sensation of his dick penetrating you until he’s inside you to the hilt. Yonder, you feel his mouth connecting with the underside of your jaw, leaving a wet spot in their wake. Then, moving upwards, his lips land on yours.
All in all, considering the alternatives, it isn’t that bad with him. The aftershock is its own challenge to handle, both for you and for him, but then again, with how proficient he is at turning a blind eye at the lack of morality in his own actions, it’s not going to be long until he repeats the pattern. Of course, he comforts you through it all afterwards, holding your trembling body against his until you eventually fall asleep in his loving arms to what he hopes are nothing but pleasant dreams. And just like that, his conscience is clean.
˗ˏˋ ★ 12. Preferences: What is sex with them like? What sort of stuff are they into? What kind of kinks do they have?
Just like the rest of his life, he wants his sex romantic, full of emotion, and spiritually fulfilling, and he’s satisfied with nothing short of that. Not for his own sake, either, but for yours. He’s quite particular about his tastes, and he has a clear idea of how he wants everything to be, and that’s what you’ll be subjected to.
He likes fingering you, he likes eating you out, and he likes penetrating you: That’s just about it. Most of what happens in your bedroom can be put in the category of vanilla, but then again, there are certain factors he likes to spice things up with.
- Overstimulation
It’s not that it’s his intention, necessarily: It’s just a by-product of everything else that goes down. Overstimulation in itself doesn’t go hand-in-hand with what he wants for you since technically speaking, it could be likened to pain, but then again, the core of it is utter, overwhelming pleasure — which is what he’s all about.
It’s not methodical torture by any means; it’s rather that he doesn’t grant you adequate breaks in between your peaks. You might be in the middle of the act, and with how he has been drawing circles across your clit with his dick grinding into you in steady, sensual thrusts, you’ve given up on trying to hold back your climax. Expecting him to just end it there after he has gotten what he wants out of you, you weakly twitch in place as the pleasure takes over. Observing your expression with awe written all over his face, he takes a while to simply adore the sight of you. His finger disconnects from your bits, and he decelerates his movements, but he doesn’t quite stop. Swiftly, what felt pleasant mere moments ago turns into intense stimulation that has you trying to wrestle yourself off of him, but the man doesn’t budge.
You gasp out at him, trying to put into words that ”it doesn’t feel good anymore”, but the only answer you get is a gentle smile, a reassuring pat on your head, and an ”I know, my darling”. He continues pushing back and forth at a slow, dragging pace, touching every last sensitive spot inside of you, tickling every last nerve ending. You can hardly contain the noises that slip past your lips, and with how one of his hands comes down to caress your nipple, he has guaranteed your undoing.
He’s quite careful not to go overboard with overstimulation, though. Having adapted to your body within an impressively short time frame, he’s confident in knowing just where the line between what you can take and what is too much goes. While he doesn’t want to push you too much, he vastly enjoys watching the way you linger at the edge of delirium, all from his efforts.
Since he tends to want to go for more than one round in a single evening, it becomes a routine you have to bear, more or less. There isn’t really any concrete way to avoid it, but he does tone it down a little if you express your discomfort about it outside of the activities. Still, he won’t ever allow you to go without at least a little sprinkle of overstim, whether it be with his fingers, with his mouth, or his member. It’s better just to get used to it.
- Sensory deprivation
What he likes the most about the idea of taking away your senses is that it’s both incredibly sensual and it requires you to put your trust in him, whether you like it or not. You’re completely under his mercy with your eyes covered, and while that exhilarates him to no end, he makes sure that the faith you put in him is paid back with your ultimate rapture and more.
The blindfold is the easiest tool to go for as he isn’t really a fan of any more complex paraphernalia. Something like a silk ribbon is easy to wrap around your head, and to make sure you don’t tear it right off, he has a habit of tying your hands together or to the headboard. That, or he simply holds you down with one of his; either goes.
Most often, he utilizes restricting your vision as a foreplay. You see, when one sense is taken away, the others become hypersensitive. Naturally, it would mean that you’re much more susceptible to his touches and his words. The way you jolt when the pad of his finger makes feather-light contact with the skin of your abdomen, how you gulp in a sharp inhale when he whispers in your ear... It’s like a drug to him. Oh, you don’t have the faintest idea what your little shivers and whimpers do to his mind.
He likes to have you linger in the suspense. The longer his ministrations continue, the more you anticipate the moment when he strikes again. The charm of it all is also in the moments where he does nothing and merely lets you drown in the uncertainty of not knowing where he’s going to stroke next. Is it a lick up your neck, is it a tender bite on your earlobe, is it a caress along your ribcage? Is it his mouth connecting with your cunt or is it his fingers pushing into your entrance? Both, even?
Don’t worry, though, for he talks you through it all. He isn’t that mean! While he likes to gently tease you a little, his main motivation is to ensure that you’re nice and ready for him when he takes his cock out. If it’s starting to look like you’re getting more panicked than he would like, the blindfold will come off in seconds, but then again, it’s not like you’ll get out of the rest of the night just like that.
- Body worship and praise
The combination of the most predictable points on the list, one could argue. He’s quite ritualistic about sex in the sense that he has a clear turn of events in his mind: Sex is to go from point A to point B to point C and then it ends, but each stage is to be savoured with utmost care. In layman terms, he puts his heart into showing immense amounts of adoration for your body.
It manifests in both touches and his words. For one thing, sex with him is always slow in pace. He doesn’t rush into anything, and while the act could be described as passionate and somewhat intense, he’s always clearly taking his sweet time with it.
Kissing is a big thing for him, both on the lips and basically everywhere on your body. The hotspots are the general area of your shoulders, chest and neck, your thighs, your stomach, and the entirety of your face. He just can’t keep his lips off of you. Furthermore, you can predict pretty reliably that you’re going to be doing the deed that night if he starts kissing you a lot during the day.
He likes to do it the sappy way — of course he does. His ideal foreplay is getting to kiss you all the way up from your feet to your head, prolonging each smooch as long as he possibly can. He’s a complete sucker for that kind of thing, truly. He also tends to caress you very thoroughly, for the lack of a better term: Along your hips, over the curve of your waist, up your arms, down your thighs... That, and cupping your face in his hands is his very favourite.
The verbal part is even more plentiful. For the life of him, he can’t shut up during the act, no matter how loudly you insist on him stopping with the praises. It’s like he has never seen anything as gorgeous as you — albeit a good part of that statement is true. ”Lovely”, ”radiant”, ”breathtaking” and ”ethereal” are just a few adjectives he gasps out in between planting sloppy kisses along your navel. He also weaves words into such intricate compliments that you have a difficult time grasping them in your hazy state of mind. He sings worship to you with the same devotion he spreads Idrila’s word with, up to a point where you have to wonder if he sees you as some sort of a deity. The thought isn’t that far from the truth, and he really wants to get the message across.
Finally, sort of tying to the theme: He seems to be fixated on working with your chest. Whatever the occasion is, he never gets enough of latching his lips around your nipple and sucking until the bud has pebbled under the relentless swirl of his tongue. Truthfully speaking, it probably does even more to him than it does to you: He gets something very specifically rewarding out of playing with your breasts, and he tends to spend copious amounts of time at that area whenever he stops by it. His own nipples are a very sensitive spot, too, so going by his own instinct, it’s no surprise that focusing attention on yours is a thing for him.
- Dacryphilia
Hear me out. No, please-please-please, hear mE OU-! *door slams*
No, but serious talk. As has been mentioned before, he’s very sensitive to all sorts of emotions, and what could be a rawer expression of that than tears? Crying is also a reaction that conveys more than one feeling: One can cry of grief, of sadness, of frustration, of anger, of joy, and of course, pleasure.
He’s not a sadist by any means when it comes to tears eliciting a certain response from him. It’s not that he wants to make you cry via physically hurting you or speaking mean words — he’s pretty much incapable of doing that — but he would be lying if he claimed that the way tears swell up in your eyes when he pushes you past your fourth climax of the night isn’t something he looks forward to. It’s such a primitive response completely out of your control, and in a way, it’s the rawest form of emotion he could coax out of you.
The first time you end up in tears from the sexual side of things is burned to your mind. The constant stimulation, the overwhelming sensations all over your body, the fatigue weighing on your mind; it all becomes too much for you, and you really can’t help the way a glossy sheen stings at your eyes. He, attentive as always, is quick to notice your distress. Slowing down his thrusts, he gazes down at you with what you suppose is a hint of surprise on his flushed face. It’s difficult to tell exactly due to the curtain of tears blurring your vision, but taking a closer look at him, you swear that it’s not only sympathy that his countenance conveys.
Instead of stopping what he’s doing, while still rocking back and forth, one of his hands disconnects from where yours are tied above your head, and the tips of his fingers find the side of your face. There, as gently as he’s possibly able, he wipes your tears away with the back of his knuckle. For good measure, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile before leaning down and planting a kiss on your sweat-clad forehead. The actions contrast the rest of what’s happening so starkly that your head can hardly keep up with them, not to mention react to them in a meaningful way. He doesn’t give you much time to wonder about it either, for after a brief moment, he resumes pushing into you with full force.
It doesn’t require complicated thought-work to figure out that he takes it as his goal to get you in the same state from then on. Clearly, seeing your tears awakens something in him, striking both the comforting and the worshipping parts of his mind. On one hand, he has the urge to console you to the best of his ability, but at the same time, the culprit behind the tears is none other than his cock driving deep into you. Who’s to blame him for wanting to see more?
It’s also that for one reason or another, him being the one to be both the perpetrator and the one to offer you comfort kind of... turns him on. Moreover, he can’t just randomly start solacing you if there’s no distress factor, so naturally, he needs something to trigger that reaction in you. He himself doesn’t consider the act to be vicious in any way, but looking from the objective perspective of things, it’s very much dangling on the fence.
˗ˏˋ ★ 13. Punishment: What do their sexual punishments look like? What methods do they prefer?
As is foreseeable with how the consequences of your actions are with him in general, he doesn’t do sexual punishments, either. Something like that would go completely against his ethics from more than one angle: Sex is a sacred thing to him, and he wants to convey that to you, so why would he ever make you associate it with something negative or painful? The mere thought of it makes him shudder.
You guessed it, the words are empty here as well, but not as outrageously as they could be. In the sense of the word, what he does can’t exactly be considered to be in retribution, but the notion behind it remains the same: You’re misbehaving (according to his criteria, anyway), and he utilizes sex as a means to get you to not do it again. It all comes down to the definition.
Frustration, throwing fits, being rude to him, all of it could end up with you slotted in his lap with one of his hands holding you down by your waist while the other is three fingers deep in your core. The act itself doesn’t exactly quell your anger since there’s a good chance that it’s precisely what you were complaining about in the first place, but by the time he’s done with you, there won’t be much space for rage in your clouded mind. Usually, you know by a single, certain sort of a look he sends your way that you have successfully crossed the line and that he’s coming for you, and soon enough, you’re going to be coming for him, if you know what I mean.
It’s not something he resorts to that often, mostly due to the fact that it is a little brutish for his standards. It’s never pleasant for you nor him to drag you to the bedroom by your flailing arm and get you all docile, but what can he do? The strategy available is quite effective, yes, but he likes to save it for when you need it the most.
He’s absurdly good at getting you exactly where he wants with as little as his fingers only. He knows just where to prod, just where to caress, and certainly just what to say. It’s infuriating how weak you are to his touches, and the fact that he’s so calm and oh-so-gentle throughout it all merely rubs salt in the wound. All the while you bite down on your lower lip so hard that your teeth dig into the skin, he guides you through it all in a soft voice, telling you to ”let it out” and to ”allow him to aid you”. It’s so horribly humiliating that you’re not sure if you want to tear his face off or get rid of your own.
Oh, and it’s specifically always the fingers when he’s punishing you. For one reason or another, he doesn’t want to associate the acts he deems more intimate — penetration and oral — with the harsher side of things. That, and it’s the most conveniently available method since it doesn’t require any demanding positions or having to prep you beforehand: He can just go for it in the moment.
˗ˏˋ ★ 14. Aftermath: What does their aftercare look like? Is there any?
Hands down, Argenti is THE aftercare king. None other can offer it as spectacular as he can, and it’s not even close. No matter what kind of a state you’re in when the deed has concluded, you can be sure that all your physical needs will be met to a T, and the mental ones depend entirely on whether you’re willing to receive his aid or not.
As is with the sex itself, what comes after is also somewhat of a ritualistic process to him. Bodily closeness is, of course, once again, a thing he doesn’t shy away from: It’s a major way he communicates in, whether that be when comforting you or otherwise, and so, his hands don’t leave you even when he has pulled out of you. He likes to linger in the afterglow of both of your climaxes (the act only ends when he has come, no matter how many orgasms you might have been forced through). By that point, the way he embraces you with his arms wrapped around you like a vice might feel beyond overbearing, but it’s a non-negotiable part of the operation for him.
Then, after the mandatory cuddle, it’s largely up to you what you want to do next. If you’re all clammy and sticky and are in dire need of a bath, just say the word, and he’s going to run one for you. Perhaps uncharacteristically, if you specifically tell him it’s what you want, he’s alright with allowing you to wash yourself alone. Though he’s very particular about not letting you do almost anything without him in your immediate vicinity, taking a bath is one of the few things he can make an exception on. It ties to the somewhat prudish views he has on sexuality, sort of: Showers are private by default, in his eyes. Then again, if you don’t outward tell him to get the fuck out of the bathroom, he might just follow you in. That, and the interval for your alone time is approximately 15 minutes, after which you can expect to hear him knocking on the door.
Water, food, massage, ointments... Ask him, he will get it for you. During aftercare, you could essentially compare him to being your servant with how attentive he is. He also goes as far as to suggest getting you anything you might be wanting, up to the point where you have to repeatedly answer ”no” to, like, ten different questions. That, and he, of course, finishes the mantra with ”Please let me know if there is anything you desire and I will fetch it for you”, and you best believe he means every last word.
However, if you’re more on the angry or distraught end of your emotional range after the deed has been concluded, he doesn’t even entertain the idea of letting you exit the bed before you have calmed down. He might be even a little confused, having a difficult time comprehending why you might be reacting the way you do. His solution to the problem is holding you through it, no matter if you’re attempting to fight him off or not. The notion behind is both about tiring you out and him believing that the skin-to-skin contact will ”heal” the misery you’re suffering through. One of his arms firmly holds you against his chest while he uses his other hand to weave his fingers through your hair or to carefully rub the nape of your neck. Then, when you eventually run out of fuel, he can move on to the more logistical matters.
He likes to go to sleep afterwards, largely due to the fact that sex doesn’t really happen outside of the bedroom nor does it take place at any other time of the day than the evening. Again, it ties to his beliefs on the matter; nothing less, nothing more.
If you’re up for it, he would like to chat with you before you drift off, but due to obvious factors, you’re not really ever feeling like it. Nevertheless, he might just take care of the pillow talk part all by himself: Though you don’t answer him, he may start telling a story from his past or prating on about something in his childhood. It’s clear with how he doesn’t ask any questions that he’s not expecting you to converse with him, necessarily, but it’s still something he does and evidently finds pleasant. Fortunately, he also happens to have a ridiculously soothing after-sex tone of voice, and his words serve as an excellent somnifacient, so it’s usually lights out for you in a matter of minutes.
˗ˏˋ ★ 15. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes sex-wise? Are there any unique aspects to them?
One would think that with him, you would have a say when it comes to what goes down in the bedroom content-wise, but it’s really not the case. Where with someone like Jing Yuan you get to express your opinion quite a lot and decide on your ideal foreplay and whatnot, with Argenti, it’s pretty much off the table.
It comes down to his idea of being able to take care of you and being the more knowing, more responsible, and more trustworthy party of the equation. He believes wholeheartedly that he’s the one who understands your side of the situation better, even when he has you writhing in his arms, trying your absolute hardest to get away from him. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s reasoning things with himself in his view’s favour, and therefore, it’s very difficult if not impossible to sway his will when he has settled on something. It has to do with the protective instinct, largely: Mamma knows best, if you will. He says he cares, and he does, in a way, but it’s just he cares for you so much that he needs to say no to you when your suggestions are simply subpar to his.
Oh, how he would love to dress you up in pretty outfits, if you would just let him. He is a fan of all things aesthetically pleasing, and so, the idea of you in a pretty set of lingerie turns him on to no end. It is, however, a little difficult to get you to wear anything since he isn’t the sort of a domineering yandere who would actually punish you for not entertaining his whims (read: Sunday), but he still can’t help but wonder. Perhaps he could negotiate with you somehow: He could offer something in return for you allowing him to witness the sight of you clad in lace. However, considering that you’re not quite willing, the fantasy might end up staying in his head for the time being.
For another thing, he really isn’t one for quickies or spontaneous acts in general. It simply doesn’t align with his needs or views on the matter. A very positive thing about being his darling is that you rarely have to fear for regular, innocent physical contact to turn into something sexual. Even when he cuddles you, hugging you so close to him that there’s barely any space in between his crotch and your behind, he won’t try to get in your pants. Where someone like Phainon wouldn’t waste two thoughts on whether he should stick his hand in your underwear or not, Argenti considers moments like that to be of the sacred sort.
With him, you’ll know exactly when things are of that variety and when they’re not. He doesn’t, for example, nearly ever initiate anything in the bath, even though your bare body is plastered right in front of his eyes. Expanding the topic even further, if you were to ever suggest an impromptu act with him, he would be the one to need a little time to get in the mood. It’s not to say that he would reject the offer under any circumstances, but you would notice the difference in how the foreplay would seem to stretch on and on.
And, finally, the Knight doesn’t have a single particle of a possessive streak in him in the sexual realm of things. He just doesn’t see the need for it, especially since he is of the firm belief that he already has you completely. The consequence of it is that hypothetically speaking, if the chance were to present itself, he would be open to sharing you with someone. Naturally, the first person that comes to mind is none other than the space cowboy he seems to already harbour some friendly affection for, so the possibility of that might be something you want to watch out for.
A/N
Bet
OOOOOO this took a long time to get out. I've had multiple slowing factors in my life, ranging from the university courses starting to Silksong finally dropping (SHAW). And, then, I found out that Argenti is a bit more difficult of a character to write as a yandere than I initially thought. I wanted to really get his personality and quirks down, and for that, I suffered some writer's block. Also, if you delve into his character, you'll come to see that his backstory isn't explored that well, and I had a little trouble tackling certain things like how the fuck does he travel from planet to planet. How the fuck does he end up in like Penacony and then pop up at Luofu. How. But, here he is, and I hope it was worth the wait for the Argenti fans. Shoutout to my lovely wonderful spectacular Ficbook translator Tumblr acquaintance who decided on him being the topic of the 7th profile, I love you babygirl ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)
But but but, I hope we're all ready for the fanfic writers' and readers' sacred month October. You better believe I have a little something something planned for it (≖ᴗ≖ ✿) Ultra secret info, but I'll finally get to expand my writing experience to the Genshin cast as well, the main push being a certain new face that popped up in the 6.0 Archon Quest. I think we'll all be really happy with this one.
Regarding the taglist, I came to realize that I organized stuff very badly, and even though I tried my absolute hardest to find the people that have asked to be on it, I have a creeping feeling that I'm forgetting someone, so PLEASE, if I didn't add you on it even though you asked me to, I give you formal permission to send me one (1) hate ask of up to 50 words in my inbox with your name on it, and I'll get you to the bunch.
Taglist, yippee! Comment or send an ask to be added, either one is alright ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅ (and hey, if you want off the list, that's cool too, just shoot me a message!)
