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!)
Summary: In the visage of an ongoing summer festival, you saw the face of your childhood friend, and joy filled you anew. The only thing you didn’t expect is for his almost unseeming devotion to turn into such a feverish nightmare. Oh, well. Everyone makes mistakes when it comes to things of sick nature. Even you.
Warnings: fem!reader, yandere!Phainon, contains a highly suggestive scene and generally perverse behaviors, not suitable for minors, dependency, toxic relationships, hurt/comfort but also hurt/no comfort, unhealthy jealousy, self-inflicted humiliation acts, emotional manipulation, possibly disturbing descriptions, physical violence || wc: 14k
“Don’t go.”
The scent of approaching summer was characteristic, and it filled up your nostrils with its undeniable freshness.
“Please… I’ll be good, I promise—”
And when that time approaches, a wave of sudden nostalgia always hits you. It makes you reminisce about many things. Memories of the younger you, and how lemonade used to taste when your family was still around to make it the way you were so fond of.
“I’ll be good.”
You don’t think of much else, when the spring wanes.
Why are dogs so loyal to us?, you remember asking your mother one day, curiosity filling up your wide eyes. She’d only bend down to ruffle your hair affectionately, smiling. Her explanation was weird, somewhat, and you didn’t understand much from it at that time. Something about evolution and base instincts. Things your still immature brain couldn’t grasp, as they appeared rather fickle, in your humble opinion.
With that, you never once repeated the question. At some point, it began mattering little to you, and the childish wonder dimmed as years continued to pass.
But one day, your mind seemed to evoke the old query, and so, you threw it into the air without much expectation of a reliable answer.
“Why are dogs loyal to us?” You muttered under your breath, giggling as the rather big mutt with walnut fur stuffed its muzzle into your small palm, wet nose prodding at you playfully.
The boy of ivory hair beside you — your best friend, Phainon — hummed wistfully, shifting a little. He outstretched his hand, scratching behind the dog’s ear.
“I’m not so sure,” he said, a grin growing on his face before he turned to you. “I think it’s because they love us.”
“Love?”
It didn’t seem believable, at least to you. People mistreated their most trusted companions all the time — leaving them behind, harshly scolding, and the like. If you were in a dog’s place, you’d certainly bite at everyone’s hands instead of coyly begging for more pets.
“Yeah.” He nodded, attention returning to your current object of interest, which was now panting slightly due to the high temperature outside. “They’re good things. Better than us, that’s for sure.”
Your eyebrows pinched together. “But why’s that?”
Phainon chuckled meekly, rolling his eyes at your insistent questions. Sometimes you think you must be pestering him too much, though he rarely seems to mind.
“See, for example. This dog is a stray,” the boy curled his fingers beneath the matted fur, hooking them around an old, worn collar. “But once it had a home, I suppose. Its previous owners must’ve abandoned it.”
“It’s been betrayed and wronged.” He continued, tone calm. “Would you still be so docile if someone did that to you?”
A groan left your mouth as you shook your head, not exactly following. “Obviously not!”
“So, dogs must believe in the good nature of humans in spite of everything they experienced. Doesn’t that equal loving us unconditionally?”
You blinked, looking at Phainon as if he just said the most ludicrous thing. But, perhaps, he was right. The boy was three years older than you, and even though the age gap wasn’t so prominent, your mentality was completely different. Phainon was mature, unlike you. He must be telling the truth, then — even if it makes little sense.
“I love dogs, too.” You mumbled quietly, moved against the brave face you always put up in front of him.
He laughed at your reaction, bigger hand rubbing your back. “We can go feed it, if you want.”
At that, you sprung up from your crouching position, excitement stirring in your chest at the prospect of playing with the mutt a little longer.
“Yes, please!”
Phainon patted his thigh, clicking his tongue at the dog to follow. The three of you ran off quickly, jogging through the busy streets of Okhema in search of some meat you could afford with the mere savings in your pocket.
And you thought: dogs must be wonderful animals. To love unconditionally is definitely the highest virtue one could possess amongst the things your Gods created.
You wished to be loved this way, too.
Time passes, that much is obvious to everyone. Phainon and you were glued by the hip for the majority of your childhood days. Upon retrospection, though, these years don’t seem long.
He came to Okhema when he was only twelve. Scarred, angry. The boy didn’t interact with many children, mostly sticking by his revered teachers, nurtured under their careful eyes and tenderness. You didn’t know what happened to him. Rumors dissipated as quickly as they arrived, new theories and twisted words swimming between curious mouths.
Still, you were intrigued. And so, one day, you just talked to him — he was a little detached, but friendly nonetheless. Definitely not your type of crowd, as you preferred to run around with more energetic companions. But he kept with you. And you kept with him.
Before you even knew it, you two became inseparable. Phainon’s lively nature roused when he had someone close to his age to accompany him. He bloomed, horrors of his fairly recent experiences fading a little with you by his side.
You quickly took the reputation of troublemakers, much to your parents’ and Phainon’s caretakers dismay. Climbing trees in places you weren’t allowed to. Jumping into lakes when you were supposed to be at school, and later on running into classes drenched. Even going as far as to pulling at the fruit vendor’s chagrin. He always made funny faces when he was angry, so you and Phainon purposefully messed around his stall. Usually it ended with a long lecture from the adults, but oh well. At that time, regretting anything came hard.
But the summer-sweet dream of innocence and freedom can’t last forever, even for those who are still young.
Phainon was a Chrysos Heir. You knew of it, and the responsibilities dragging along with that title. Perhaps both of you got too caught-up in the whirlwind of carefreeness, because the moment Phainon had to take on more serious training shook you. At least you think so.
You didn’t like it when he got snatched away from you. Days got progressively more boring and lonely — you, left with no one to spend your time with, and Phainon, burdened with his duties.
Bitterness was hard to swallow at first. You felt it every time he suddenly had to get up and jog off with an apologetic look in his bright eyes. You felt it when once again he said he can’t stay with you, and you felt it when your parents scolded you for occupying someone so important.
And slowly but surely, the stitches holding your hips together began to rip.
Then, your best friend was no more.
You saw him in passing, sure. Phainon always waved in your direction, smiles weaker and more tentative. At some point, you stopped waving back. What sense is there in pretending you still care for each other, when the boy you once favored was now but a mere imitation of his past self.
Well, maybe you were dramatic. Certainly, you were. But just like those dogs, you couldn’t help feeling abandoned — the only difference is that you frowned upon the one who wronged you.
So, you had a fall out. A silent one. One sided, probably. You never really tried communicating your feelings with Phainon, because, honestly, he must have had better worries than your whining.
He stopped waving too, and it irritated you, but it’s not like you didn’t stop it first. That’s fair, you tried convincing yourself. And your dismay toward him dissolved with years, for adults shouldn’t hold grudges over feeble stuff of their childhood days.
You didn’t see him much after that. Phainon was an extremely popular Chrysos Heir, serving as the bastion of hope for the people of Okhema in these dark times. It was weird, taking that into consideration. After all, the man must have been strolling around the streets all the time.
Still, something in your heart told you otherwise. Perhaps it’s only natural. That’s how life works — once fate decides your story with a certain person is over, you wouldn’t see them anymore. Only a handful of times did you manage to spot the flurry of white hair, standing taller than the rest of the citizens. In your periphery, the elegant garments appeared distant. Phainon’s voice rang across the road from time to time, and a naive part of you thought he was calling your name.
Despite your initial stubbornness, you got over it pretty quickly. You made peace with the fact a long-lost part of your life was now gone, and you had no need to regain it.
It should’ve stayed that way. It really should have.
Months when the world submerges itself in warmth and joy are celebrated in Okhema with fervor. Merry-making is certainly a good way to finally let yourself rest — even for just a few days. Anyway, it’s not like the harvest serves as an excuse to get black-out drunk. Probably.
Yes, probably, because everyone pranced around you like unhinged beasts, wines and other liquors spilling dangerously close to your light-colored attire. No one seems to care about anything. The sun disappeared from the horizon a few hours ago, and the lack of it seemingly wakes some sort of alcoholic haze in citizens.
Personally, you never found any appeal in these festivals. Before both your parents passed, they’d drag you there, feed you food you didn’t want to eat, and force you to clap happily when dancers finished their performance.
But as you think of it now, you’re starting to realize you miss those days. When nothing really mattered, and the colors of the world surrounding you were bright, still. You yearn for the things that won’t return. Isn’t it childish of you?
Maybe the wine you’re currently cradling in your palms did something to your head. You made sure to request it diluted with water, but the concoction was unusually strong in taste nonetheless. It’s possible you got tipsy.
Not that it bothered you, though. You came here just for the drinks, to ease off some strain your mind seemed to possess as of late. Dancing or listening to the cheery tunes wasn’t in your interest. Not really.
Well, maybe at some point it was. Several years ago, when you still had many friends and could allow yourself to drown in the passing celebration of starting summer. Your big group would sprint between the crowds, taking ribbons and waving them around, just like those performers do. Or, you thought with a soft laugh, how you’d steal flowers from the columns. You don’t know why you did that. Perhaps it was just funny to watch all the adults bristle with anger.
You loved life, then. You still love it; not now, but in that memory.
Alas, everything passes. It’d be sweet if things stayed the same, however, all you can do is ache for the idea of it.
The alcohol must’ve really gotten into your bloodstream, because you didn’t even bother lifting your eyes up from the cup of wine. Your morose pondering suddenly got interrupted by something hard falling on the bench, and bumping roughly into your side.
You watched, startled, as your drink jostled and spilled across the table. Then, you looked up to scold whoever was bold enough to quite literally fly into your left, but—
“[Name]?”
Oh, Gods above. You think if your heart could, it’d crawl out through your mouth.
Not him. Anyone but him. He was the last person you wanted to see today, and now you don’t even have the chance to get up and bolt, since you are somewhat squeezed between two people. That grandpa on your right seems equally bewildered, at least.
You cleared your throat, trying not to frown. “Hi… Phainon.”
The man’s eyebrows narrowed together, and truth be told, you expected him to throw something bitter at you. After all, you were the one to start ignoring him. You wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to announce to everyone by the table that you, yes, indeed you — are the one who ditched your already-feeble friendship, and decided you don’t need him.
It’s not like it would be a new revelation, anyway. Elders, so those who you annoyed together, often asked you: where did you lose Phainon?, as if he was actually a part of you. Even that damned fruit vendor sometimes caught you in the middle of your shopping, inquiring why you no longer stuck with the Chrysos Heir.
(So what, old man, you miss how we used to take bites of your wares and flee before you could chase us away with your broom?, Is what you often wanted to ask in return. You never did.)
But, no. Phainon didn’t snap at you, nor did he seem especially annoyed. Quite the opposite. His previously heavy-lidded eyes sprung wide open, and he assessed the wine he made you spill with nearly panicked expression.
“Ah, I am really sorry.” He started, a bit out of breath. “I wasted your drink with my carelessness.”
Now that you looked at him, he did seem a bit drunk. Hair messier than normally. Face flushed, posture slightly hunched.
And — curse your godforsaken thoughts — but he was more handsome than you could recall. Which shouldn’t be very surprising, considering you haven’t seen him from this up close for a rather formidable amount of time, but still. The contours of his face remained boyish, only taking a sharper look. More defined. If not for your inner state of shame, you’d continue to ogle him until sun returns. Maybe then you’d be able to see how it reflected off his bright pupils again.
Before you could even answer, Phainon pushed on. “I’ll go and buy you another one. Again, my apologies.”
He got up with a wobble, and only then you had half the mind to point out how unseeming it was of a Chrysos Heir to get inebriated in public. Fortunately or unfortunately, you kept your mouth shut.
Once Phainon was gone (probably not for long, because even if lines for the drinks are lenghty, everyone will rush him first anyway), the whole table breathed out. No wonder, really. He was one of the most important people in Okhema. Surely, a drunken Heir sitting with commoners to simply gasp out a few words and stammer isn’t a frequent occurrence.
Stiff, you glanced around yourself. The grandpa sitting next to you turned his head slowly, expression flabbergasted. You only let out a heavy sigh in response.
“I’m— I’m sorry, I have to go now. If you’ll excuse me…” You mumbled under your nose, standing up.
Some woman across from you inhaled sharply, slamming her hands down on the table. You jerked up, frightened.
“Why? Lord Phainon goes out of his way to buy you a free drink! Are you out of your mind, girl?!”
“Not only that!” The grandpa quipped, reaching for your wrist. “He could get us all free wine! I presume he isn’t a Lord only in the name!”
All gathered people cheered at the suggestion, even those who didn’t sit at your table. So, you had a whole crowd listening in (and counting on you). How wonderful.
Not to mention, Phainon wasn’t technically rich. Sure, Chrysos Heirs possessed ample amounts of money, but you knew that man. His obsession with antiques took root a long time ago. He was pretty much hellbent on his little hobby, and you were aware of just how cash-consuming it was. That fool probably has a few dimes in his wallet, and they expect him to buy everyone drinks?
Deciding to save Phainon’s honor, you walked off anyway, immediately followed by words of disapproval. Enough with all the alarms and surprises for one day. You’ll go home and rest your weary bones. There’s no point in lingering here any longer — not with all these drunkards and him at your tail.
And as you walked, confident you’ll be left alone for now, someone grabbed your shoulder.
The options on who it might be were somewhat limited, so you didn’t even bother turning your head.
“What do you want?” You forced out, jaw clenching around nothing.
“I— uh.”
Phainon let go, instead stepping in front of you. It always irked you, just how tall he grew up to be. Seriously, what were they feeding him? Three plates of eggs for breakfast, and five servings of fish per dinner? If you didn’t crane up your neck, you’d be forced to stare straight into his breast.
Oh, and it also infuriated you how he had to look down, casting a long shadow over you. Like a damned birch. Maybe you could grab him by the knees and topple over.
His mouth was moving. The man was saying something, hands gesticulating around. You didn’t catch on to his words, all noises suddenly blurring into one nonsensical cacophony.
Wait. Were Phainon’s eyes always this sad?
He must be very lonely, you thought out of the blue, though you don’t know why. He has friends and admirers, flocking to his sides like herded sheep — not once did you see him stand alone. And yet, this undeniable conclusion stirred within you.
Ultimately, nothing touches Phainon. He’s like an otherworldly being, too-bright and too-full to cradle by your heart and call him your best.
Despite everything, it was still a solemn realization.
“…And that’s why I couldn’t buy your drink. Again, I’m truly sorry, [Name].”
Silence.
“[Name]?”
Curses, you didn’t even listen to his blabbing. What was that he said? Something about your drink?
“It’s fine. I’m not in the mood anymore.” You shrugged, kicking at a stray pebble by your feet.
Both of you stood silent for a longer moment. You were acutely aware of the prying looks sent your way, as if trying to deduce whether you were really conversing with him. But that’s the life of big fishes, you supposed. All eyes always set on him.
“You don’t look too happy to see me.”
The way Phainon said it was more depressing than you’d like to admit. Well. In theory, the man was right. You can’t imagine anyone jumping up in joy when meeting their former best friend, who they also had a supposed fall out with.
But then again, deep inside, your old affections burned bright. It’s like your past self woke from a very, very long dream, rousing quickly when spotting their beloved face. Shaking you and commanding to smile at him instead of frowning. You dangled on a weird limbo, truthfully.
Perhaps it was involuntary on your side, but the distant memories of frolicking around with Phainon flooded your brain. Arms hoisting you up in the water when it turned out too deep. Sneaking into dromas’ pens to play with them. How loudly you laughed when he accidentally tripped into mud face-first, fair locks halfway soiled.
And you chuckled. It slipped past your lips so suddenly, you didn’t even register it at first.
Oh, but Gods, the way Phainon’s face brightened up almost knocked the air out from your lungs. Happiness suited him way better than the sulking, and only then you realized just how silly you must’ve looked when laughing under your breath.
He raked his fingers through the tousled fringe, smiling sheepishly. “Why are you giggling?”
His words slurred a little. To your horror, you found it quite endearing.
“I’m sorry. I remembered something funny.” You answered, perhaps with an equal amount of shyness, swatting your hand dismissively.
Phainon hummed at that, nodding his head with slight awkwardness. Another beat of silence passed. You two must have looked like two imbeciles, with the way you stood, motionless, and stared into each other’s eyes. Surprisingly, no one stepped close to you. Huh. Maybe everyone thought their darling Chrysos Heir had a romantic encounter, and dared not interrupt it. Laughable, really.
(Imagining yourself as a potential object of rumors was indeed dreadful, though at the same time, you found yourself uncaring. Actually, maybe you’d like that?)
(No. Honestly, what is wrong with you? You don’t need a scandal on your shoulders.)
“You haven’t changed much.” Phainon spoke, interrupting your unwelcomed trail of thoughts. There was fondness laced in his tone. You don’t know what you should make of it.
“Guess I didn’t have a reason to change.” You finally willed the corners of your lips upwards. “I mean… it hasn’t been that long since we stopped talking.”
The man reciprocated your smile, thank Gods. “I know it’ll sound frivolous, but it’s hard to believe we really lost contact.”
His words almost caused you to choke. Obviously, he had every right to call you out. You just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
And what do you even say to that?
I’m sorry Phainon, but I got mad at you, because you were too busy to indulge my younger self all the time. I suppose it makes sense, no? Normal people don’t have to become warriors, and, don’t get me wrong, I knew you were never exactly normal, but you seemed awfully normal to me! And so, I suppose I let myself get too attached. You broke my poor heart, see, you cruel man?
Yeah, no.
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling small. “Truthfully, I… didn’t mean for that to happen. But it did. Life moved on.”
There was a hint of something bitter in Phainon’s irises, though it flickered by in quick passing. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, still smiling.
“Life moved on, huh. But you didn’t forget me, did you? Please tell me you at least remember my horrible jokes.”
He was teasing, obviously. Nevertheless, it made you cringe internally at your previous words. You made it sound like moving on was really all that easy. Well, it’s not like you spent years crying, but the fact remains. You were a little hurt.
A chuckle left your lips. “Oh, of course I remember. How could I forget those?”
To your surprise, Phainon’s slightly unsure smile split into a beaming grin. “That’s a relief. I was starting to think I was just some random guy you used to know.”
If it was appropriate, you’d burst out into hysterical bouts of laughter. A random guy? Was he really thinking of himself so lowly? He’s the literal opposite of it — widely respected and adored, Phainon is precious to everyone in Okhema.
At one point in your life, he was precious to you, too. Even though you were no longer on speaking terms, you’d find it hard to repress the memory of somebody so important to you.
“You’re not just some random guy.” You said, itching to smack that seemingly empty head of his.
Phainon looked genuinely taken aback at your words, which confused you further. Hope washed across his face.
“You mean it?” He asked, voice so quiet you barely heard him from above the clamor.
“Sure. You always were…”
Special.
When you trailed off, the man huffed out a short exhale. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”
Honestly, you can’t imagine yourself saying it to him in such a direct manner. You’d much rather slice your tongue off than admit your lingering fondness for him. Maybe it’s weird? He’d certainly deem you a little unwell in the head after mustering up these words. Still, it’s not like you ever fully stomped out Phainon from your life. His name continues to hum in your chest, from time to time. And it’s annoying, sure, but you can’t bring yourself to put out the last candlewick, flickering weakly with the remnants of what once was.
“Nothing, nothing.” You chuckled a bit nervously, taking a single step backwards. “Uh, anyway… I suppose I should go now. It’s getting late. And you, too, could use some rest.”
“W-wait—”
Phainon stumbled in your direction once, as if trying to regress the distance you created. His mouth opened and closed for a good while. He looked like a fish out of the water, gasping desperately.
Finally, after a minute of fidgeting with the stray flap of his cape and eyes flicking around, he choked it out.
“[Name]. I don’t wish to sound insistent, nor do I want you to feel pressured by me. But, uh—” The man paused, mustering up a smile. “Maybe you’d like to hang out… some day.”
You found yourself wanting to smile back, but your lips were already curled upwards, and the ever-present weight on your shoulders lifted by some miracle.
“Sure. Why not.”
In that odd dream you don’t tell anyone about, you and Phainon still sit on marble steps, and something is painfully connecting your sides together — and you thought fate was done with you two, but apparently your beings will remain in a tight tether.
It would be good to laugh with him some more. Of this much you are certain.
There are things in life that you can expect. For example, the shining sun. People on the streets. Children still begging you for spare change so they can purchase some silly toys, not giving up after that one time when you granted their wish.
What really surprised you, though, is just how intense your renewed friendship with Phainon was. That, you did not expect.
It’s not something you thought would take place. Sure, you hung out once — and it was nice, truly, you enjoyed yourself more than you probably should have. But Phainon was a busy man. There’s no way he would dedicate so much of his time to your pitiful self who pretended he didn’t exist.
Well, no. Three days after your first meetup since forever, he called you (because you exchanged numbers) asking to go out with him again. And again. And again…
Days blurred into weeks, and now it’s been eight months. Phainon has been really sweet to you, and you couldn’t help but fall into some sort of a rhythm. It was different from what you remembered of your childhood days, but hey. Both of you are adults now, it’s only logical. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that Phainon's presence brought you joy.
Sometimes he was a little overbearing, though.
You ran out of pomegranates? Half an hour after you complained about it to him, Phainon was already at your door with a basket full of your desired fruit. And they were very high quality, no less. He stood in the threshold like an over-grown, over-excited puppy, swearing it was really no problem for him.
Your sink broke? Oh, [Name], why waste your money on the plumber when I can help you?, is what he said in response. The same day, he was on it. You remember hovering in the kitchen awkwardly as Phainon shifted underneath that damned sink, his long legs kicking up in frustration. He obviously had no clue what he was doing. Turns out a mere tutorial he watched on his teleslate prior wouldn’t be sufficient enough, but somehow, he ended up fixing it. Only two hours of struggle. Easy-peasy.
You needed some more ornaments for your humble abode? Phainon gave you half of the antiques he had. No questions asked. When you refused, he refused your refusal. And then pushed even more intricate decorations into your arms.
There was even that one time when he offered to commission a double portrait. Which, sure, was incredibly kind — but those were beyond expensive. There was no way you could afford it. What Phainon said to that? I’d fancy your face mounted upon my wall. The price doesn’t matter!
Seriously, some of the things he did made your heart flutter. The other half stunned you.
Not to mention, Phainon was so, so good to you. His unfaltering benevolence never failed to touch your heart — but it made you wonder, too. You’d never be this warm toward someone who turned their back on you for several years, acting like you were completely unimportant. No. Actually, you wouldn’t even want to talk with them.
Sometimes you genuinely think he has no self respect. Which is certainly weird, for Phainon is a revered Chrysos Heir with a reputation exceeding yours at least a million times. No matter how much you wish against judging the man, it’s simply impossible.
Not when — even though you reconnected only eight months ago — he already looks ready to fall on one knee. It scares you a little. Perhaps you’re bold for thinking that, but at the same time, you’re not blind, nor oblivious. Phainon doesn’t even try to hide just how hung-up he is on you.
(Maybe it’s somewhat pathetic. The reverential look in his eyes never repulsed you, but it was unreasonable.)
Anyway, a selfish part of you enjoyed all the attention Phainon was smothering you with, and so, you never tried putting an end to this charade. It made you feel better about yourself. Some time ago, you desperately clung to memories of the past — and now, you had its part sitting obediently in the palm of your hand.
Phainon was your friend. And you were happy with how things stood, even if you weren’t as… enthusiastic as him.
Today was cold, for a change. It’s a little unusual for Okhema to drown in such a low temperature, even if the season is far from summer. The Holy City was warm — hence why you were so surprised to wake with cold feet, and a tremble in your legs.
No matter. You continued on as you always did. Get ready, make breakfast, complete your chores.
Still, for whatever reason, you felt as if you were forgetting about something. That feeling dragged on behind for the better part of the day, and you probably wouldn’t know what it was, if not for a certain someone who came to visit you.
“Happy birthday, [Name]!”
You blinked twice, not understanding what was going on. Then, it hit you. It was your birthday today — how could you have forgotten?
Upon seeing your stupor, Phainon stepped in, swiftly closing the door. He sent you an amused smile, one eyebrow raising when you still didn’t respond.
At that, you finally snapped out of it. “Oh… Gods, I completely forgot… And I can’t believe you actually remembered.” You muttered, a little abashed.
The man merely shrugged, holding out a neatly packaged box. “Of course I wouldn’t forget. How could I?” Phainon chuckled, pushing the gift closer so you’d finally take it.
Truth be told, the last time Phainon gave you any sort of birthday wishes was about five years ago. They were kept short and spoken without much commitment, but still.
And now, you were met with his grinning face, hands expectantly flexing around the gift he brought you — because, apparently, he still somehow remembered. You felt a little bad. When is his birthday? That, you aren’t so sure of. Alright, you can remember the month, but the exact day? It’s a whole different story.
With a short exhale, you took the package. “You didn’t have to bring me anything, really.”
“Don’t say that before you open it.” Phainon remarked playfully, intent gaze boring into you.
The man practically vibrated with excitement. His bright eyes flickered between your fingers and facial expression, taking in every slightest detail, and you thought the gift must be something really funny if he’s acting like that.
When you turned thirteen, Phainon gifted you a toy snake. You hated those things, and when you first saw it, you were convinced it’s real. So, you threw the whole carton box at the boy’s face, accidentally injuring his nose. He laughed anyway. You bristled. Ultimately, you ended up placing the snake in inconspicuous places, watching as people jolted away, startled.
And it was hilarious, so perhaps he gave you something similar for the old times sake. Prepared for another stunt, you slowly opened it.
What you saw inside made your smile instantly falter.
It was a necklace — but not a normal one, no. The thing was obviously costly, with an intricate design and some stones, indicating just how expensive it must have been.
Shocked, you gently touched it, feeling at the glided material. Why would Phainon buy you something so expensive? It’s not like you asked for it. Hell, you would never request such a lavish gift from your friend, because, honestly, wasn’t he broke?
“I’m— Wow. Phainon, I really…” You choked out, eyes still focused on the necklace.
“You don’t like it?” Phainon immediately responded, and when you looked at him, he seemed a bit distraught. “No worries, just say so. I’ll go and return it. Actually, you can go with me, and we’ll pick out one to your liking.”
“No, I—”
“I understand, [Name], you don’t have to pretend. Lady Aglaea always says my taste in fashion is lacking. Well, I spent about six hours debating on the best necklace for you, after all, I didn’t want you to be disappointed — which I guess you are, but that’s alright. I’ll go buy you a better one, just—”
“Phainon!” You shouted, cutting his logorrhea off.
He stopped, mouth agape. The undeniable twitch of his lower lip made you cringe internally, and you wondered whether he was really so desperate to please you. Anyway, it’s not like you said you didn’t like the gift.
With a sigh, you took Phainon’s hand, causing him to immediately curl his fingers around yours. “I love it. But you shouldn’t have.”
“Shouldn’t have?” He parroted, somewhat breathless. “Come on. If anyone deserves nice things, it’s you.”
The compliment made you break into a small smile, which probably caused Phainon relief, for he returned it without missing a beat.
“Still,” you continued, schooling your tone into a gentle one, “it must’ve cost a fortune. I don’t know what to say…”
“Say you’ll wear it. That’s all I want.”
You bit on your lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by how intensely Phainon assessed your face. You tugged your hand away, willing yourself to keep on smiling under the fierce twins of blue.
“Alright. I’ll wear it sometime. Thank you, it really is lovely.”
Your friend nodded, stepping back. And you talked for quite some time before he announced that he finally needed to go, which made you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
(The necklace Phainon gave you was certainly beautiful, but you hid it in a drawer — deep inside, covered by cloth and old trinkets meant to be forgotten. You never looked at it again.)
It’s been quite some time since you last saw Phainon.
Of course, the man has his duties as a Chrysos Heir. It wasn’t surprising when he couldn’t meet up with you, and you understood the reasons why better than anyone.
Perhaps a few years back, you’d be trembling with irritation and sadness. Now, however, it mattered little. The fact didn’t bother you much, and you were fine with being by yourself, even if the days dragged.
It’s not like you didn’t see him at all, anyway. Phainon often caught you on the street, smiling and peeking over your shoulder to see what things you wanted to buy. When the fruit vendor saw you together, assessing his wares, he almost choked. You belatedly realized it was the same man you and Phainon used to torment on a daily basis, and before you knew it, you were crushed under the onslaught of questions.
Oh, I see my favorite pair is back together! Truly, how curious. And I thought you two fought? Well, of course, my apologies— his eyes flickered nervously over to Phainon —I meant not to pry. I didn’t, not actually, but, you see, when you’re practically bullied by goddamn children everyday, it sticks with you. So I was quite surprised when one day, you just stopped. What happened? Did you reconcile? Or maybe you never argued in the first place, and simply decided to keep it… more private? If you know what I mean! And then, he exploded into loud cackling.
Ah, well. If you could, you’d immediately crumble into dust on the spot. But it’s not like you possessed such a skill, so you kept on nodding, smiling stiffly when both of the men continued to talk. Also, you managed to notice that Phainon’s arm snaked around your shoulders. With how hot and awkward you felt, you had half the mind to push him away. You didn’t, though. He’d probably start whining and trailing behind like a mistreated dog. That was the last thing you needed.
Anyway, it would seem your absence in Phainon’s life bothered him much more than you thought initially. It didn’t take long before he invited you over, insisting he needed to see you. And who are you to refuse?
“Thank you for the cakes. They were really good.” You smiled, crumbling the napkin in your hands before aiming it into the trash can. Miraculously, it actually scored.
Phainon merely nodded, muttering no problem, and trying to copy what you did earlier. His own napkin missed by a few centimeters.
A giggle escaped your lips when the man groaned, slumping back into the couch with a resigned smile.
“You’re hopeless.” You said humorously, shifting in your place. “Well, anyway. I think I should be going now. It’s getting late.”
That much was true. When you got to Phainon’s house, you expected to stay for two hours maximum. After all, he certainly had a multitude of duties on his shoulders. Instead, he occupied you with pastries — even at some point running to the bakery to buy more — and only shrugged when you told him to lay back.
Then, he continued to grace you with amusing stories. And you have to admit, they were entertaining, but after another in-depth description of his ‘competitions’ with Mydeimos, you started to feel somewhat sleepy. There’s only so much you can bear, and it quickly got boring.
When he noticed you nodding off, Phainon immediately shook your arm, saying he ordered new tea blends. So, you spent another hour tasting and rating them. Which was… fine.
But now that he heard your words, Phainon almost spilled out his drink. He put the cup down quickly, turning to face you.
“So soon?” The man practically gasped, wide-eyed. “[Name], you cannot be serious. I still didn’t tell you about—“
Whatever he began babbling about dissipated within the chamber of your mind, because you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Not when the slight darkness of the room encompassed Phainon’s face in the worst way.
He looked awfully exhausted.
Honestly, you don’t know how it slipped past your radar earlier, but the shadows underneath blue eyes were overly-prominent. Hair a little tangled. Lips chapped, as if he had nothing to drink for the past few days. His hands shook — not to the point where it was noticeable, but they still did.
Seeing Phainon like that was concerning, and it made your heart clench with the need to ask about his well-being. The man always cared deeply about others. So why did everyone, including yourself, decide to turn a blind eye on his internal troubles?
“You look tired.”
Once the words fell from your mouth, interrupting Phainon’s ramble, he blinked in confusion.
“Do I?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, hands folding on your lap. “What’s wrong?”
Phainon sighed, as if not knowing what to say. He ran his fingers through his locks, wincing when they caught on a particularly troublesome knot.
And the corners of his lips lifted, like he was ready to dismiss you, but your firm gaze must’ve rendered him weak. Soon his shoulders hunched down, all the bravado slowly dissipating.
“I guess it’s just my duties. As an Heir, I mean.” Phainon muttered, eyes avoiding yours. “It… wears me out, [Name].”
You nodded patiently, allowing the man to continue. It was obvious he needed to get something off his chest, and since you were here, he might as well do it now.
“I know the burden I carry is meant to be great. It always has been. But lately, it’s just too much for me. Everyone expects me to be perfect, which I can’t blame them for, obviously.”
“Then again, aren’t I just a fickle human? Like the rest of those who set their eyes on me, and pray that the Deliverer of Okhema will miraculously solve all their woes.”
“I mean… I do understand just how much stronger I am than the rest. Therefore, I also understand where all of this is stemming from.”
Phainon’s breath shuddered, and you were halfway convinced he might start weeping on the spot. He then grabbed you by the shoulders, touch surprisingly desperate, and leaned closer in.
The crack in his expression was undeniable; like a mixture of genuine misery and resignation. For some reason, it made your stomach churn.
“But everything is slipping through my fingers.” He rasped, eyebrows tightly knitting together. “And you know what scares me the most?”
You tried not to wince from how roughly he was squeezing you. Still, you put on a brave face, even though a multitude of questions and confusion swirled in your mind. It was unsettling, seeing him in such a state.
This confession caused you to almost gasp. Almost. You just stared at him, dumbfounded, trying to process what you just heard. So, at the end of the day, it all circles back to you? All of Phainon’s worries and fears — they connect to his duties, but ultimately, it’s just you.
And it was hard to understand. Sure, you’ve been childhood friends, and sure, you renewed your contact some time ago. You can confidently say that in the end, you’d do it all again, because Phainon is your best friend. At least you think so. But how can it explain the vivid devotion dancing in his eyes?
The fact you can’t look at him with the same amount of emotion made you feel bad.
“I promise I won’t.” You said, voice meek.
“But you can’t guarantee that.” Phainon quickly retaliated, joints digging harder into your flesh.
Not knowing what to do, you carefully placed one of your palms on the man’s shoulder, the other one reaching to cradle the back of his head. He stilled a little at the physical contact, expression turning docile.
“Of course I can’t guarantee you that…”
You willed a smile to grow on your lips, gently nudging Phainon to ease himself on your lap. Surprisingly, he had no objections. He simply lied down, big, watery eyes looking up at you as if you were a holy painting.
“Just, please.” He began, tone weak. “Please, stay. I don’t care about anything else, just— don’t leave me.”
There was an uncomfortable ache in your chest as you leaned in, and you realized, solemnly, that Phainon smelled of wild strawberries. A fragrance innocent enough to smother all the suffering dragging along.
And you were aware of what he tried to communicate through these words, for you knew him like the back of your hand. But you didn’t feel the same.
Love is an odd thing. It can’t be described by primitive words, or straight logic. It’s a feeling lodged inside your very heart, deeply, hurting like a splinter you can’t even touch.
Looking at Phainon, you knew of what he harbored within himself. It’d be hard not to, when he’s coddled on your lap, a fully grown man appearing like a mistreated dog that just got its last scrap of meat torn away.
There’s not much you can do in the eyes of such a predicament.
“I’ll stay with you. I’m not leaving anywhere, okay?” You forced yourself to keep smiling, swallowing down the guilt.
Phainon finally smiled back — a weak thing, but a sign of happiness, still. He nodded, turning on his side and pushing himself closer, face pressing against your stomach. Like the action could hide him from all the conflicted feelings and expectations.
The man wrapped one arm around your hips loosely, and he said: you’re hunting me slow, though you don’t understand what he meant by those words, nor do you feel the need to ask.
(You have one memory you’re particularly fond of. Well, when it happened, you were somewhat exasperated — startled? Maybe a mixture of them. But it still rings as something to be cherished, in your mind.)
(When you were barely ten, Phainon thought it would be funny to chase you. He was thirteen at that time, and so, the boy also had longer legs. Catching you was pretty much effortless for him.)
(And once he got dangerously close, your mind screamed at you to lose him, else you’d fall victim to the onslaught of tickling. In a bout of panic, you turned a corner. It was a dead end.)
(The decision you made that day was borne out of desperation. If you didn’t feel like there was a threat at your heels — real or not — you’d make better choices. Because you knew the road you turned into ended within a few meters, and yet, you still thought to bolt there.)
(Similarly, hunted animals must lose their reasoning once it becomes apparent there’s no way out. Or, in some cases, the only solution would be to doom both predator and prey.)
(What path they’ll take on is usually determined during their last moments. The most important question always is: how far cruelty stretches in those innocent eyes?)
Due to your oh-so developed cognitive functions, you were able to pinpoint how stressed Phainon has been as of late. Well. It’s been going on for quite some time now. Not like it’s any surprise anyhow, you know that his duties as the Deliverer are beyond anyone’s comprehension. Any normal person would crumble under the pressure within a span of a few days.
So, you, being a good friend, decided to hang out with Phainon. It was your idea this time — because he’s usually the one to initiate your meetings — and you were eager to bring him at least a bit of entertainment.
What graced your mind at the beginning was going out to a restaurant. But then you remembered how it ended last time, with Phainon chatting you up and barely touching his food. Next, you thought of the Garden of Life. Of course, this option wasn’t the most ideal either. The space was filled with people, and you knew how they enjoyed flocking to Phainon’s side.
Ultimately, you decided on the dromas’ pen. It was simple, but the lovable creatures were kind of therapeutic, so maybe it’d provide him some peace of heart.
And Phainon seemed terribly excited to go there. You don’t remember him ever being such a big fan of dromas, but upon hearing your proposal, he immediately grabbed your hand, fingers tightly clenching around yours.
Slightly abashed, you tugged your joint out of his grasp — because, what if people think there’s something more between you? You can’t have that. Obviously, Phainon got sulky, and you had to offer him your arm instead. He took it, pressing himself into your side as if you were conjoined by hips, leaning down with a smile as he continued to babble on and on.
The fact Phainon was clingy was nothing new to you, though you wondered just how far his affections could stretch. You didn’t see him attaching himself to any other of his friends. But alright. You could bear it.
(Maybe dromases weren’t the attraction he was seeking out, after all.)
“Aww, look at this big guy.” You cooed, reaching to nuzzle the creature’s nose.
It made a deep sound of satisfaction in response, stuffing its large head against your tiny-looking (at least in comparison) palm, as if asking for more pets. Phainon stood beside, patting the dromas’ leg.
“They’re quite sweet, aren’t they?” He hummed, handing out another piece of food.
The animal quickly snatched it from his hand, giving an unexpected lick to Phainon’s face. Well, at least you think it tried to, but its big tongue swiped across the entirety of his head. A loud laugh left you as you observed the man’s expression twist in dismay — the drool made the side of his hair stick up, and at some point you had to wipe off tears from cackling so hard.
Phainon chuckled a little under his breath too, but mostly just blushed in embarrassment, quickly trying to get rid of the dromas’ slobber with a napkin. You decided to help the poor thing, wiping him with your own handkerchief and adjusting the tousled locks.
And as you attempted to make Phainon’s hairstyle look somewhat presentable, one of the caretakers strolled over to your pair.
“Oh, Lord Phainon! It’s been so long since we’ve had you here.”
Your eyes flicked over to a man of rather old age, nursing a basket close to his chest, and a rake in his free hand. Truthfully, you hoped no one would bother you today.
“Yes, I know. I’d visit, were I not so busy all the time.” Phainon smiled politely in response, stepping back when the dromas continued to nudge at him, nipping at the two strands of hair stemming from the top of his head.
“And who that might be?”
Two pairs of eyes locked on you, making you immediately school a kind expression. You meant not to frown earlier, but controlling the whims of your eyebrows and mouth always came quite hard.
“I’m—“
“Ah, [Name]?” Phainon cut into your sentence, draping an arm around your shoulders. “She’s my significant other. Isn’t she precious?”
The forced smile on your lips faltered, and for a good second, you were sure you heard that wrong.
But no. When you looked at Phainon, completely disoriented, he merely tightened his hold on you. Your mind screamed at you, signifying something was so obviously wrong, and yet all you could do was stand there like a statue. Why did he call you that? Was he really so detached? Or sick?
Phainon was a little confused, you tried to reason with yourself desperately. You know that, and you remember how distressed he was when you spoke with him not so long ago. The human mind can undergo significant psychological strain when subjected to pressure, especially in environments where the stakes are high. And the man was crushed underneath the burdens at all times.
Maybe one of them — be it aiding everyone, or countless hours spent risking his life — finally caused his psyche to crash. He formulated a delusion to help him keep afloat; so, in his thoughts, you are in a relationship. At least that’s what you can deduce.
Still, that doesn’t really explain anything. Sure, Phainon was troubled, but it’s not an excuse to say untruthful things about you. And while you wished to serve as his anchor, the image of him abusing that privilege caused your bones to stiffen with a frigid, uncanny feeling.
“…Excuse me?”
The caretaker glanced between you two, perhaps a little consternated by your cold tone of voice.
“Oh, in that case, congratulations.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s good to see young people in love, especially in such terrible times.”
“I am not his girlfriend!” You cut in, real nerves starting to gnaw at your stomach.
When you attempted to wriggle away from Phainon’s hold, he hardened it, the sensation smothering. Your eyes flickered over to him, almost panicked, but he wasn’t even looking at you.
“My apologies.” Phainon said, tone still eerily polite. “She’s just a little shy, you see.”
You bristled internally, trying not to snap at him in public. It was awful. Absolutely, unimaginably awful. Against your need to simply stomp on Phainon’s boot and shake him off, you stood there, still somewhat unable to process what was going on.
The other man, seeing how tense the atmosphere got, exchanged a few words with Phainon before finally departing. You could see the confusion on his face as he turned, holding on the rakes a bit too tight. Even the dromases stopped bothering you. Everything seemed to hold its breath in, pausing, like the world itself couldn’t grasp what just unfolded.
And when the moment of silence passed, you immediately pushed him away.
“The hell was that?” You seethed, taking a few steps back to create a respectable distance.
Phainon’s eyebrows narrowed. He bit on his lower lip, and some vivid distress passed through his irises, though you ignored it rather pointedly.
“[Name], I don't understand.” He spoke, hand reaching out in your direction. You swatted at it harshly. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” You echoed, barking out a ridiculed laugh. “You’re telling people something that’s not true! Do you realize how humiliating this is?”
When your friend’s expression fell, you were close to feeling guilty. Maybe you should be the bigger person here and calmly explain that lying about things of such nature is not in your range of tolerance. But you were just a human, and the irritation successfully clouded your better judgement.
“Wait— don’t be mad. I just… I thought it’d make you happy to see that people know how close we are.”
You took another step backwards, almost bumping into the trough. Strong wind started to rush by, causing hair to fly into your mouth, and carrying an unpleasant smell coming from somewhere. The need to puke was overwhelming.
“No. This isn’t closeness.” You retaliated, joints trembling. “And we’ve never established anything, so I suppose you simply made it up.”
Phainon’s fringe obscured his eyes, and he made quick work of pushing it back, as if losing sight of you for even a second was already too much. His eyes flickered nervously, one hand stopping in his locks to tug at them.
It was obvious he was starting to lose his ground. The man’s chest heaved, all remnants of composure fading when you turned on your heel to walk off, already fed up.
“I didn’t mean to upset you!” Phainon called. “I just— I just wanted everyone to see what I see!”
You didn’t look back. “Then you don’t really see me at all!”
He made no move to run after you. His feet remained planted into the ground as you left the dromas’ pen, and you were thankful for the small mercy.
Still, even though you were angered beyond belief, your conscience berated you for treating Phainon so coldly. He was your friend. Yes, he did say something upsetting, but it’s not like it was unforgivable. While you felt betrayed, he must’ve felt this way, too. At least you think so.
No matter how hard you tried convincing yourself that he was in the wrong, and not you, it wasn’t working. Phainon’s face — the younger version of himself — crept into your mind. You remember how genuinely cheerful he used to be. Not innocent, not anymore, but pure in the way he kept by your side.
The visage of you two, crouching on the pavement together and talking in hushed voices, obscured the need to stay angry. Because Phainon was your friend. Your best one. Harboring odium toward such a miserable soul wouldn’t bring you any satisfaction, nor relief.
You’ll give him some space. And when enough time passes, you’ll return to him, and resolve everything. For now, though, you’ll keep your distance. It’ll be better this way.
Is a week, so seven days, a long time? Perhaps not. Not for you, at least, but for others it may be different.
This is exactly the reason why your teleslate was blowing up, constantly, without any break. When another message from Phainon popped on the screen, you thought to simply throw the thing into trash.
At first, it started out inconspicuously. One text in the morning, one in the evening. You could tolerate that. Then, the calling. Every single time, you pressed the red button, fuming at how shameless Phainon must’ve been to keep on tormenting you this way.
Then, it changed into genuine flood. As things stood, you could see over ninety nine messages sitting impatiently in your inbox, their count going up and up. Estimating their amount wasn’t hard, for you got about two per hour. Well, more or less. Sometimes your teleslate wouldn’t stop pinging with the insistent onslaught, and you had to put it in another room, else you’d go crazy with the repetitive sound of notifications.
You didn’t understand. Curses, you didn’t even want to. Truly, what made you so significant for Phainon to bother you restlessly? Didn’t he have a life? Imagining his coworkers having to put up with him, nose-deep into the screen of his teleslate was somewhat ludicrous. Mydei must’ve been livid. What if instead of sparring with him, Phainon was sitting aimlessly on the training grounds, constantly chiming: just one second, before typing you another message? You don’t want to feel guilty, but you can’t help it.
And honestly, you thought to talk to Phainon sooner. Three or four days of no contact would’ve been sufficient, just enough to gather your scattered feelings and mold them into a sensible conclusion. However, your pettiness didn’t allow you.
Not when he kept on being such a nuisance. Seriously, at some point your poor teleslate began to lag with the sheer amount of incoming messages and calls. So, there was only one logical thing left to do: leave Phainon hanging.
There were times when you simply couldn’t meet, but usually, you resolved it by seeing each other on the street. A routine of normalcy. Him running up to you, and you pausing whatever you were doing to indulge the man. Short small talk here and there, but both of you were sated.
Now you avoided Phainon like wildfire. Whenever you left your house, pointedly ignoring the stacked bouquets with I’m sorry, please take me in! written down on the attached cards, you took lengthy precautions to miss the familiar face.
Truth be told, it was miraculous that he somehow didn’t catch you. With how hellbent Phainon seemed on regaining your favor, it was weird he wasn’t constantly seeking you out as well. Still, he had his duties, and for that you were grateful, because apparently they blocked his path of bothering you even in real life.
Anyway, on the seventh day, the texting stopped. You were prepared to wake up to an already buzzing teleslate, though all you were met with was radio silence.
While you were happy Phainon finally gave it a rest, something about it unsettled you. The obsessive flood of messages suddenly disappearing was odd — not like you cared, not in particular. But the fact remained.
(Before you moved closer to the center of Okhema, you and your parents lived in a more desolate area. Fields stretched endlessly, covered with the lush greenery and winding paths.)
(You remember standing at the edge of the meadow, hands still damp from drawing water from the river. The air was restless all day, tossing leaves and dust into a whirlpool of spirals, rattling windows and loose bells attached to your fences. But then, the wind dropped. Even the sparrows, so insolent with their chatter, seemingly vanished into the overcast sky.)
(Nothing. It was as if some greater being held their very breath, silencing everything. Not a rustle of the trees, or the faintest buzz of insects. Even your own heartbeat felt too loud.)
(Somewhere between the hills, there must’ve been a movement. The kind that leaves you frozen, like a child, lost amidst the woods. You could almost feel it pressing against the horizon, waiting for the right moment to spill and engulf all with its claws of deliberate fear.)
(The storm came soon after.)
It was late. You don’t know the exact hour, but the weariness in your bones indicated it. Around midnight, perhaps. It mattered little, for your disturbed rest caused a bigger problem than assessing the time.
Since Phainon decided to stop filling your teleslate’s inbox with messages, you thought to sleep with it next to your head. It was a bad habit, you knew of it. Still, the sense of having some sort of a communication device close was soothing. If anything happened, you could make quick work of calling for help.
But, as it turns out, you might have overestimated your friend’s resolve. There was one ping. Then another. Before you even roused fully, your teleslate began ringing, filling your ears with the annoyingly cheerful tune.
At first, your instinct was to throw it out of the window. A foolish act, but to your halfway asleep mind, it was utterly reasonable. You could just grab it from the grass patch in the morning, and you’d get a good night's sleep.
Alas, some reason dawned upon your dazed state. Why would Phainon call you this late? Sure, he seemed to love doing this whenever given the chance, but never did he ring you during the night. What if he needed your help? You fought recently, but it didn’t mean you’d leave him in the times of need.
Against your frustration, you swatted your hand around, finally grabbing the teleslate. Once you opened your eyes, you got temporarily blinded by the bright screen, having to squint. Without any further ado, you picked up, wanting to get over with it.
“Hello?”
“[Name].” Phainon said, somewhat breathless. The sound of his voice came out slightly muffled. “Oh, I’m so glad you picked up… Did I wake you?”
You have to admit, deep inside, you might have missed hearing him talk. Still, there was an undeniable tension threaded through his tone, which caused you to wonder. Was he feeling unwell?
“It’s late. Is something wrong?”
The man let out a strained laugh. “No… I just— I just wanted to hear you.”
Truthfully, you expected him to drown you in an onslaught of queries and maybe even insults. That’s what you’d do, at least. Putting yourself in his shoes was kind of hard, but you can imagine how distressed Phainon must’ve been for the past week. The fact he didn’t even try to question your constant ignoring was odd.
And why did he even want to hear you?
“At this hour?” You asked quietly, reaching to rub your eyes.
There was a rustle coming from your teleslate. Soft, irregular. It made you wince.
“Yeah. Just… talk to me. Please?”
Phainon’s pleading caused you to sigh, giving in. “What do you want me to say?”
A long pause stretched between you before Phainon managed to answer, and honestly, you thought he forgot about your existence.
“Anything.” He rasped, breaths uneven. “I don’t care. Your day, your… Whatever. I just need to hear you.”
Your sleep-fogged mind slowly began to sober up as you tried recalling anything interesting. But your days have been a blur of monotony, and it came hard.
“Well, today was busy. Nothing special. It was hot out, though I’m sure you know that.”
He probably aimed to answer, but all that left his throat was a shaky sound. Like an exhale, cut off suddenly without much reason, and followed by a sharp intake of air.
Unease started to overtake your senses.
“Are you okay?” You muttered, tone unsure.
Phainon hummed meekly. “Yeah… Yeah. Keep going.”
“Uh…” You paused, feeling your feet catch on the tangled sheets. His voice sounded so thin, like he was far away from himself, and it stirred something unpleasant in your gut. “The festival’s coming up again soon. It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a year.”
Another laugh. “Mhm… Last year…”
He stopped mid-sentence, causing a rustling, muffled noise to grace your ears once more. Then, he pushed on.
“You looked so beautiful that night,” Phainon whined out. “I think about it a lot, [Name]. About you. Always, always—“
Then, it no longer sounded like he was just innocently talking with you. The way his voice cracked, turning into a prolonged sound might have indicated only a couple of things — and the steadily growing realization was beyond flustering.
An unbearably hot feeling crept onto your whole face, and it was far from pleasant. You gripped your sheets, finger itching over the red button.
“…What are you doing?” You cut into the nonsensical rambling Phainon went on, babbling about whatever bullshit he came up with.
His breath obviously hitched. “Nothing. Only listening. I like hearing you talk— your voice.” He stammered, a little too quickly. “Just… stay with me, alright?”
The words felt like a grip on your chest.
“I’m going to sleep.” You said, attempting to rein in your nerves.
“No,” Phainon forced out shakily. “No, not yet. Please, [Name]. Just a little longer, keep talking, ple—”
Beep, beep, beep.
Wide-eyed, you stared at the screen of your teleslate, lower lip trembling. You simply couldn’t bear it anymore.
It was too much. What Phainon was doing — probably for the entire time while on call with you — was obvious, and in that moment, you wished to close your eyes and pass out.
The fact was abstract. Nothing made sense, and you felt similarly to your younger self, confused when the teacher told you to interpret some painting. You remember looking at the paint strokes, squinting. In your opinion, it looked like nether. Red and black and deep navy melting into one, creating something straight up hellish.
And you let it drag for far too long — all actions have their consequences. Could you really blame Phainon, when at the end of the day, it was you leading him by the nose?
A small voice in the back of your mind told you yes. You can put the blame on him. Perhaps you even should. After all, he was the one acting deluded, so completely different from who he used to be. He was no longer the sweet boy who’d bring sugar for the ants, or carry you on his back whenever you got too tired.
But, who are you trying to fool? Sure, Phainon overstepped what logic there was left between you. The concrete line blurred with each passing day, his own fingers smudging it like chalk.
And you weren’t better, for you were keeping him on that leash of longing, happy with how he’d obediently indulge your every whim. Every want. All the attention and love aimed at you was like fuel. Why you needed it so much was unknown to you — be it your parents passing, or lack of stable interpersonal connections. But you craved it, and the sight of that revered man ready to rip his own veins for you was fulfilling. For you, he hid his strength. For you, he used those God-slaughtering hands in the gentlest way.
You were selfish, and there was something terrible hiding in the darkness of your room. Perhaps a reflection of your tar-like heart. When you squinted hard enough, you could see it grinning back.
Some things aren’t meant to be. It’s as simple as that.
The start of your day was honestly awful. You woke with a headache, pounding at the back of your eyes terribly. When you thought to catch some fresh air, you stepped out, only to see those countless bouquets Phainon left at your doorstep soaked with rain water. Disgruntled, you picked them up, ready to throw into the trash can. Their petals clung to your light-colored stone at the front door, and something released its artificial color, staining everything around. So, not only were you suffering physically, but now you also had to clean up.
And there were also the events of last night. They sat firmly at the bottom of your brain, reminding you of what occurred whenever you tried to focus. At some point you thought to let it go, but then you remembered how distraught you were with everything.
Phainon was a dedicated man, his devotion obscuring any sense. He’d do it again, given the chance. Or commit something even worse. Were you not to confront him about that, you’d leave the gates open wide for his unseeming behaviors. You couldn’t allow it.
In the afternoon, you rushed to his house, knocking feverishly at the door. When no one opened, you rattled them. Frustrated, you deduced he must’ve been away, so you stormed off. People were giving you weird looks. Sure, no one would be bold enough to quite literally bang at the doors of a Chrysos Heir, but it’s not like you’ve suddenly grown two heads!
So, you went there later. Still nothing. You thought to break the window and seat yourself on his couch, but that would probably be too much. Though, you have to admit, Phainon’s expression would’ve been priceless. Oh, if only you could snap a picture of him getting all startled and post it. Petty, yes. But so worth it.
Anyway, you weren’t the one to give up easily. When the sky got darker, you decided to try for the last time. With an already exhausted mind, you left your place once more, legs quickly carrying you over to Phainon’s house.
For what it’s worth, you were clever enough to prepare yourself for the most likely unpleasant encounter — you formulated all conversation starters and possible outcomes, coupling it with what exactly you wanted to communicate. You broke your head over it for the entire day, but perhaps it wasn’t for nothing.
Still, it did little to ease your nervousness. Once you stood at the door, a lump formed in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to gather courage. You willed your knuckles to knock, the sound coming out dull. Upon no response, you tried again and again.
Finally, your stressed mind told you to simply grab the handle and try entering. It’s not like you’re breaking in, right? Knowing Phainon, he’d be overjoyed to see you come in unannounced.
Surprisingly, the door actually opened. Slowly, you invited yourself in, glancing around the space of the vestibule. By the narrow, low bench stood his combat boots, messily thrown to the side. So, he was home, after all.
With another few steps, you went into the corridor, scanning both the living room and kitchen branching off into two separate ways. No sight of the man. Lights were off, and for a second, you almost convinced yourself that Phainon wasn’t even there — but, really, he wouldn’t leave the house barefoot.
Well, there was only one option left. Not caring enough to keep your steps quiet, you mustered up any confidence, trudging over to the bedroom. There was a minimal sound of another person’s footfall, and so, you pushed the door open.
And there he was, in all of his glory. Phainon stood before you, one hand outstretched, as if he was ready to open the door, too. Unsurprisingly, he seemed taken aback by your presence.
The next thing that caught your eye was that portrait you and him commissioned some time ago. You don’t remember Phainon ever mentioning it any further, but it hung proudly above his bed, being the only ornament in the whole room. It appeared uncanny, contrasting with the heavily decorated space outside.
(For a brief second, you wondered if he actually kneels in front of it, like some kind of devotee, and stares at your perfectly recreated face.)
“Oh, [Name].” Phainon breathed, his frozen silhouette snapping into life and stepping aside to let you in. “Goodness, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.”
Seeing him move to encircle his arms around you, you immediately eluded the touch, backing yourself further into the bedroom.
“Don’t.” You murmured, eyebrows narrowing. “We need to talk.”
The man blinked, as if confused. “About what?”
Oh, and now he wanted to play clueless? Phainon could put up an innocent act, you knew of it better than anyone else. Alas, the sharp glint in his eyes always betrayed the feigned facade.
“About everything. All the things that you’ve been doing, all the boundaries you shamelessly breached—”
“For example?” He cut in, tone still guiltless.
The amounts of Phainon’s audacity were genuinely shocking. You gritted your teeth, trying to stick to the scenario you curated earlier.
“I… I know what you’ve been doing on that call with me.”
His expression faltered, just a bit. “I’m not following.”
Irritation came close to your throat, threatening to tug at your vocal cords and let out the most vicious insults known to man, for his defiance angered you, perhaps, more than the act of indulging upon his carnal desires itself. But in the eyes of such a deluded person, words probably mattered little. You could tell him to go to hell, and he’d say he wishes you’d go there with him.
“You’re disgusting.”
Phainon’s lips parted, a genuine flash of hurt passing through his face. He looked around the abnormally empty room, slightly panicked irises ultimately locking back on yours.
“But I wanted—”
“Well, what?” You interrupted harshly. “What did you want to accomplish by—”
“[Name], you do not understand—”
“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You deem me foolish?”
“No, I— I just needed you, what is so hard to understand about it? I need you, always, because—”
“Stop it! You’re acting like a goddamn child! Only taking, taking—”
“But you felt it too!”
“Me? Feeling whatever nonsense you came up with? Don’t make me—”
“You said you loved me, didn’t you?”
This caused you to pause. The whole conversation didn’t go as planned, and at some point you threw your resolutions out of the window, forgetting about keeping things demure.
And now, Phainon was suggesting you loved him. It wasn’t completely untrue, because you cherished him as a friend, knowing that he would let you look at him however you wanted, and he’d still stay. You just didn’t know it would escalate into such a disagreement.
What consequences are there when you break an already tormented heart? People who went through hell may not be swayed by what surrounds them, for they’ve seen and felt worse. Analogically, they could finally snap. There’s only so much one can bear.
“I never said such a thing.” You retaliated, voice rising again. “How can you treat me with so little respect, when all I did was show you kindness? I’ve never done anything to you! You don’t care about my feelings, you act like I’m some possession to play with!”
“But I do love you!” Phainon said, tone cracking in half. “Do you not see?”
Yes, you could see it clearly enough. The way undeniable devotion filled his sad eyes to the brim, threatening to spill out. But there is a thin line between so-called devotion and obsession, and Phainon seemed to be dancing on its edge for the majority of your rekindled friendship.
And it made you angry. Looking at Phainon with such dismay never crossed your mind up until now. You simply can’t understand him. You can’t. It’s not possible — where did you go wrong? In what place did your foot slip, causing you to tumble into him? What sparked this unwelcome feeling?
Standing in front of this picture, you’ve come to realize that ultimately, you never harbored much compassion for him. There were times when you felt bad, but those moments were shallow. Something you liked to dip your ankles in, relishing in how good of a friend you must’ve been, always caring for his feelings. It was fueled by nostalgia and old affections. This Phainon, however, appeared like a distant concept you’ve dreamt of. Nothing to bother yourself too deeply with. He’ll stay by your side like a loyal mutt anyway, won’t he?
Perhaps, this exact lack of empathy, might have been your greatest mistake and greatest punishment.
“Well, I don’t love you! I never loved you, you hear me?” You snapped, palms landing on his shoulders to give him a rough shove.
And you didn’t expect Phainon to actually sway with your movement, because he was like a boulder in comparison to your frail wrists, but he dropped to one knee. Stunned, or in a bout of sudden weakness. You didn’t know. All you could do was watch him huff in surprise, blue irises fixed on the floor.
Something in him seemed to deflate, as if your words took the oxygen out of his lungs, forcing his breath to hitch in short bursts. Phainon lifted his head slowly, confusion etched deep into his face, like he couldn’t reconcile you standing over him with the version of yourself he had in his mind.
For a second, you thought the man might lunge. But no. He stayed on the ground, one hand splayed against wooden panels, the other hanging loose. Phainon’s eyes frantically traced your face as if he was searching for a line to hold on to — anything to prove you didn’t mean what you said.
Despite everything, you started to feel overexposed. Like you were the one on the floor, and not him. Did you hurt him? You didn’t mean to, no, it was just a shove. Why was he acting like that?
Instinctively, you took a step backwards, followed by another. Before you even knew it, the back of your knees hit the bed frame, causing you to accidentally stumble and drop on the mattress.
As you tried lifting yourself up, Phainon immediately closed the distance between you. On his hands and knees, he crawled impossibly closer, expression despaired — his fingers gripped your exposed calves, nails catching on the flesh uncomfortably. The man held you firmly in place, causing you to panic.
“H-hey, what’re—”
“I’m sorry.” He interrupted, voice breaking. “I’ll never— I didn’t mean—“
You pushed at Phainon, trying to pull back when the sensation of him squeezing your legs became too much. “Let go!”
He shook his head, insistently pressing his forehead to your knees. A dreadful feeling pounded in your heart as you tried to reason what was going on. How did this once respectable person fall so low?
“No— please, please, don’t leave me. I can change. I’ll be what you want. Anything you want.”
“Stop talking like this…!”
“I’m so sorry, I was stupid, I was lonely— I won’t do it again.”
The way Phainon’s nails dug into your body was probably leaving crescent marks behind, and all the words rolling off his tongue like an avalanche caused the air in your lungs to go heavy.
Upon receiving a pained breath from you, the man merely looked up with wide, misty eyes, emotions rimmed at the edges and threatening to overflow. He pressed himself even further, nudging his chin between your knees.
“I love you,” he continued once you didn’t respond, wet lips tracing your skin. “Tell me, [Name]. I’m begging you, just say what to fix.”
You tried kicking, yet it was futile. Phainon ignored how your fingers tangled in his fair locks, yanking aggressively. It was as if he was an unfaltering obstacle, whatever breakage in his mind causing the vision to narrow on one goal. You.
“Are you deaf?” You questioned, though your voice was no longer loud. It faltered, fading off.
Phainon grabbed your hand when you tried swinging it at him, and you couldn’t move it, even if his grip wasn’t overly hard.
In that moment, you understood he didn’t wish to bring you harm — the man could easily hurl you on the floor, knocking you out with an effortless hit. And yet, the more you thrashed, the more distraught his expression got. Like he was already pitying you, though you don’t know the reason why.
“Teach me how to love you better. Please.” Phainon whined pathetically, unconsciously squashing your hand. “Please, let me.”
The action made you groan, and you lifted one of your feet to shove it into his underbelly, but all you got met with was a wall of muscle. There was absolutely no change on his face.
“No— no, what is wrong with you?” You choked out, slowly beginning to grasp just how hopeless your current situation is.
What caused Phainon to slip into such a mental state? What? Was he always like this, secretly demented and masking his crazed self with a docile image? Or maybe it were your words, pushing him over the edge?
Sure, you always thought of him as pathetic. Now you can say that with confidence, ridden of the guilt admitting it would bring you earlier on. Lacking in self respect, treating you like you hung the stars for him. But never did you deem him this far gone.
Your eyes snapped back into focus when the man tugged your hand closer to his lips, hot breath fanning against your joints.
“I’ll do anything for you, [Name].”
To your horror, he actually licked you. Not a kiss, nor anything relatively normal in this already abstract situation. You could clearly feel and see it, the way Phainon lapped at you. A strained sound left your lips as your fingers clenched, like you were ready to claw his very eyes out, but that only granted more access for his tongue.
“You always said how you loved dogs.” He panted, a twitching smile stretching his lips. “Didn’t you?”
Another lick, leaving a stripe of slobber between your fingers.
“I could bark for you,” the man continued, “or I’ll stay quiet. But please, [Name]— please don’t abandon—”
Something snapped in you. You slapped Phainon across the face, hard enough for his head to jerk to the side. The waterfall of his words immediately got cut off by a hitching gasp, and you pushed him off with all your might, backing out towards the door.
He simply crouched there. A red mark bloomed on his face. Your hand itched from the impact.
Phainon never wanted to hurt you. And you weren’t the same. Perhaps that is the most prominent difference between you. Despite all, you weren’t as good. You bite the one that hurts you, and you expose your fangs in a snarl when all he can do is to wish you reciprocated his unconditional love.
You observed his form, the way he just stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, as if trying to process what happened. Then, Phainon’s mouth parted, a small breath escaping him. His brows pinched upwards, not in anger, but in something childlike; like the bewilderment that you could ever actually hit him was too much to bear.
Tears started rolling down his cheeks without a warning. Disbelieving, you watched them fall quickly, one after another — and his shoulders hunched down, a feeble whimper slipping away.
A quiet sob filled your ears, but there was no space for pity in your heart. Not when Phainon started getting on his feet, alarm bells ringing in your head, loud with urgency. He moved in a certain way, his posture shifting. And so, you took two steps back before spinning on your heel, and bolting down the corridor.
The hallway felt way too narrow when you ran, and something in your heart told you it was no use. Your feet struck the ground in quick thuds, an awful sting burning at your lungs.
You could sense Phainon behind. He was always exceptional in the way he could control his body, yet now, all that you heard was uneven pounding of someone gaining speed through sheer desperation. Perhaps you were the delusional one, thinking you could lose him.
Genuine fear burst with ugly colors in your chest as you turned the corner, shoulder clumsily catching against some antique vase. The exit doors were so close. Your body practically smashed against them as you tugged at the handle, swinging them open.
Then, Phainon grabbed your wrist, harshly yanking you backwards. A yelp escaped your mouth as you struggled in his hold, trepidation obscuring any logic left within your erratic mind.
No. It simply couldn’t have been happening.
Your head snapped to face him, and you panted, teeth grinding so hard you thought your incisors would crack.
He was breathing heavily as well, face red from all the crying and sprinting after you. In the twins of blue, you swear you saw the reflection of your terrified self, but the gentle gust of wind caused Phainon’s fringe to partially cover them.
“No! Don’t do this!” The man pleaded, tone rising with undeniable panic.
You thrashed ferociously. “Go away, Phainon!”
“You’re all I want!” He cut in, tugging. “You’re all I have!”
“Go away!”
“Please— please! You can’t—”
A scream ripped from your throat, for you hoped that maybe someone would hear the despaired wails, and intervene. Phainon instantly reacted, pressing his palm against your mouth so hard you stumbled into the wall, knees almost giving out.
A shaky exhale left through your nose, and all you could do was heave, trying not to break down.
“Don’t go.”
The air smells like approaching summer.
“Please… I’ll be good, I promise—”
Phainon’s bone-crushing grip, bruising around one of your wrists is beyond painful. Eyes of a beaten animal stare into you, as if begging not to pull the rifle’s trigger.
“I’ll be good.”
And when you’re two meters underground, with worms eating at your brain, they will certainly get visions of him. They will feel how softly his fingers used to cradle you, and hear the sweet sound of his voice. They will experience revelations and horrors beyond their comprehension.
