Predicament of The Blessed

[potbless]

A Master list or something like that...

The main story:

Post by @potbless

💬 0  🔁 2  ❤️ 4 · Prologue · The ground below ached; The wind bellowed and echoed; The clouds darkened; It was truly a day of despair in H

Side Story 1:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Extra:

Post by @x0x0charlie

💬 4  🔁 4  ❤️ 6 · A gale swept through Hell, the dark strands of hair framing his face swayed with it, almost the same as the first time he s

[potbless]

previous chapter.

Chapter 3: Enter Orpheus and Eurydice.

▼??? A nine-foot-tall giant treaded among the decaying rose garden, his long silver-gray braid dirtied behind him as it dragged on the soil. Idling in the back was a never-ending mansion, more accurately, a labyrinth, before a backdrop of a marvelous “sky” consisting of white, black and gold, with hints of blue, clashing together; the meeting point dripping down into spools of threads from above onto what seemed to be the center of the mansion. The giant sighed as he paused his stroll.

 “What brings you here of all places?” His monotonous voice echoed through the silent landscape. 

“I hate seeing that face of yours just as much as you hate seeing mine. Don’t worry. I’ll leave after I get what I want from you.” Fumika replied, her voice laced with mockery for his monotone. 

“And pray tell, what might that be?”  

“An easy pawn.” Joy leaked out of Fumika’s empty countenance, and could hardly contain within her voice. 

“I don’t get it. I don’t think I have anything that might interest yo-,” He cut himself off with an exhale as the realization dawned upon him. “Ah.”

His maroon eyes lingered on the decaying roses. There was no use contemplating, everything was decided. The future was set in stone, yet-

“You. Promise me, you’ll protect her from harm in every way.”

 “Oh, Sylvester, dearest. Have you learnt selfishness in the time I’ve left you to fend for yourself?” She asked the brooding giant, his body cloaked with dark robes that swayed with the wind as did the stray strands of his hair.

“Don’t you make such a face now. I’ll be sure to put on a show that is worth spectating, just as always.” Fumika added, her head tilted as she skipped towards Sylvester. “So, where is she?”

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▼A Lost pocket of Space, Edge of Existence.

▾Rogue planet devoid of sustenance.

“A person? Here? Color me surprised.” A crimson-haired girl spoke from among the dusty over-arching cliffs, she sported many different parts of an armor, mostly her shoulders and a whole arm; white fabric flowed out on one side from her torso drifting with the brown-hued dry wind. She stood on top of a giant cross, eyeing the person seeking her out.

“On top of the many colors you’re already drenched in?” Fumika chuckled at the girl who was caught off-guard by her face, or rather the lack thereof.

“A storm is brewing, why are you here?” The girl descended from atop the cliff in one swoop, bringing the cliff’s edge down with her as she dragged the giant cross through the fall. Her green eyes scanned the surrounding terrain, making sure the cross stood between her and her blind spot.

“Don’t worry. It’s just measly me: Fumika, and you: Calliope, on this windy wasteland.” The wind picked up, hurling gusts of dirt and even finger-sized pebbles. “More importantly, why are you here?” 

Calliope sighed, her red hair scattered among the wind, flowing in erratic rhythms. She peered behind her, disappointed in the cliffside blocking the view of a magnificently wind-carved canyon. “You might not believe this, but intelligent life once existed on this rogue planet.” She began.

“No, they did more than exist, they celebrated death, they celebrated the passing of every loved one.” The wind howled between them, now upheaving rocks the size of watermelons. “Sounds dark, no? But it wasn’t that they were happy seeing their loved ones die. It was, simply put, a preparation. To embrace death.”

She continued, “If Heaven knew of this planet, those righteous scoundrels would’ve scrunched their noses at it, and even sigh in relief when they learned that it was quickly going off course from its initial planetary orbit.”

“Hanako would’ve done nothing. Has done nothing. And now this planet only hosts radioactive microorganisms eating away at what remains that brief life has left behind.”

She turned back at Fumika, her piercing green-eyed stare untainted by the dirt wind between them, “They were a brief life, existing for a couple of millenia, unlike that of Heaven, Hell… and Earth.”

“Fumika…” Calliope trailed off, as if trying to figure out how it sounded in her voice, “Do you think they deserved this? To be a forgotten grave, drifting towards the edge of existence?” She asked, not expecting an answer.

“Forgotten… I wouldn’t quite say that. With you here, retelling their tale to me against my will.” She replied, unamused at the incessant rambling.

Calliope rolled her eyes at the statement, “I’m not a storyteller, this tragic tale is far too common. Life never festers in any corner of the universe that Hanako isn’t aware of.”

“What do you need from me?” She finally asked, to Fumika’s relief.

“I’m assuming you’re done spouting nonsense?” she replied, woeful at the realization that this Calliope is every bit a hassle like Sylvester, soon after shuddering at the thought of her being worse.

“Not sure, yet.” Calliope rubbed her chin with her armored fingers in thought.

“I’m here for… you! I need you to be available to me, whenever I need. I have this… problem child to take care of, my partner and I, we’re both too busy for it.”

“Sounds like you need a babysitter…”

“Yes!!” Fumika nodded her faceless head eagerly.

“Do you… need help looking for one? I don’t understand.” Calliope tilted her head, puzzled as to what this mannequin-faced woman wanted from her.

“No, I need you to look after it. What’s so confusing about that?”

“Did you come here looking to get thrashed or something? Or did some rock in the wind hit you too hard in the head?” Calliope clutched her temples in disbelief. “Not. Happening.”

“Are you sure about that? You know, I was sent here by Sylvester… It's alright. I’ll just go back to hi-,”

“What? You’re telling me you went to the,” she paused, “The God of DEATH. To babysit your problematic child!?” She hollered.

“Not just fucking that, he actually sent you to me.” Her laughter was lost in the howls of the wind. “Whoever you are, you’ve come a long way to crack the worst joke ever.” She spoke in between pauses of her laughter.

“Mm, well you’re laughing, aren’t you? So, if you’re done, you can go check with him and I’ll wait for you on Earth, okay? Okay.” Fumika deadpanned, her presence unfounded soon after, leaving Calliope in the dust storm with the realization that Fumika wasn’t joking.

“Sylvester. Just what did you drag me into, damn it.”

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“WAKE UP!! IT’S MORNING, AND YOU’RE LATE, YOU WILL MISS THE FIRST PERIOD.” Akira paraded into a soiled room full of scattered items, mostly clothing.

And from an equally messy bed, a boy groaned out, forcefully waking from his slumber, “Get out..” he pulled the sheets over his dark hair, shifting away from Akira. 

“Louis Neisser, you will get up right now or I’m leaving without giving you breakfast.” She took to grabbing on the sheets, after three gentle pulls, she tugged on it with her whole might and successfully exposed the half-awake boy hiding in it. “And you’ll miss the first period. Do you really want to see that bald fuck that badly?”

He gasped as he sat upright. “No!” He yelled out, searching for his phone frantically among the messed-up bed; his blue stare brightened upon finding it and dimmed back down just as quick. “Akira, I’m going to end your life.” He held the phone up as he spoke, the giant numbers on it reading seven-forty-five.

“What? I woke you up on time. This way we can walk leisurely-,” Louis immediately cut her off.

“C’mon, I slept so late. I deserve to sleep more.” He whined as he fell back into his bed.

“People who wanna sleep more, should sleep earlier. What were you doing up so late anyway?” Akira asked as she began treading the ground, trying not to step on the clothes and other artifacts scattered across, “Dude, you need to seriously clean up your room.”

“It’s fine the way it is.”

“No? It’s not? I’m going to trip and fall and die?”

“And that’s what you deserve,” Louis yawned, “For waking me up so early.”

“Oh whatever, go get dressed, princess, you can whine later.” Akira palmed her forehead, soon after Louis left the room and she began picking up whatever she found around the bed. Her hands found a ball of crushed paper, which made her raise her eyebrows in surprise. As she stuck her head under the bed, she found multiple papers of that sort sitting there. 

Louis found his room tidied by the time he was back, dressed in his uniform, a pale green chex-patterned pair of trousers and a long-sleeved white button-up rolled up to his elbows. He grabbed a hair-tie from his nightstand, sighing at the state of the room as he tied his hair at the back, “I told you, it was fine the way it was.”

“Not even a thank you?” Akira responded as she picked her bag up from the desktop chair. “Hurry up, we gotta go.” She rolled her eyes at the boy, who was now putting on socks.

“What about breakfast?” He looked up, putting on the other sock.

“Uh, it's a sandwich anyway, just eat it as we walk.”

“Really? Sandwich? Again?” He groaned while picking his bag up, rolling his eyes soon after in disbelief.

“Make your own breakfast then, who’s stopping you?” She waltzed down the stairs as Louis shut the door to his room.

“Are you not tired of it? I bet you got a sandwich for lunch too.”

“Good guess. You’re right.” She smiled, pulling out two sandwiches from her bag as she stood at the entrance of the house. “Here.” She handed one of the sandwiches to him.

“Thanks.”

[potbless]

previous chapter.

Chapter 2: Hospitable Misery

“Your excellency. You know that, if word of this gets out, the Cordellia Imperatum might no-,” Alice began with a snicker, it’s so dark in here, where am I? Alice’s silhouette and how amused it seemed at mother’s plight… “Mother”? Where exactly am I?

Everything is …so familiar.

“I know. But you owe me,” Mother cut Alice off. I'm still alive? Somehow. I tried to shift to my side, the uneven surface poked into my back. “And, do not call me that, I’ve lost my claim over the role of The Exalted One.”

“So sincere, Lord Narukawa. I can hardly believe that my father and you share an ancestor. Ha, just the thought of it seems like some joke,” she paused, “It might as well be. Maybe this is also fate: the irony is far too coincidental.” Alice pondered, her head turned towards me, she clicked her tongue as I met her blue eyes.

“And I thought you were so ready to die? You accepted your fate, so bravely too, but look at you now, struggling so hard just to breathe one more sliver of air.. So much poetry today.” Alice cocked her head in distaste, my breath quickened, or rather, I’ve only realized now how hard it was to simply breathe…

“My Lord, it seems like you do have the chance to share some kind of parting words with your beloved daughter.” Alice deadpanned, gesturing at me to Mother. I followed her hands with my heavy eyes, Mother was… misty-eyed. That’s it? This is what it is?

“Rei, I want your happiness…” She paused, inching closer, her dark hair enveloped my peripheral and her darker eyes bore into my tired ones, they lingered on the mole on the inner corner of her left eye, “I want your happiness, trick fate, and be selfish, be as selfish as you can be.” Her warm palms cupped my face, attempting to wake me up from the impending slumber. She kept speaking, I couldn’t make it out, when I took in one last glimpse of her face, it seemed to fade out. Alice, however, did not. Her jeering face remained in my vision. Her lips moved. I never seem to make out what she said, but one part always was clear:

“See you soon.” And then my world was set on fire, the stench of burning flesh, blindingly bright.

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“No matter how you look at this, that’s a child. God or human. And you.. you lied to me.” A man donned in scrubs spoke, he had peculiar golden irises and brown hair that was swept to the side and was engrossed in a conversation with the person beside him, so much so that he didn’t even take off his mask before speaking.

“Doctor, please. That is no child! It’s a fugitive. We’re doing the right thing.” The person spoke, but their mouth wasn’t moving, in fact, Hikaru noticed that this person seemed more like a mannequin than a person, she let out a terrified grunt as she jolted upright on the bed.

“Ah! Bonsoir! Comment vous sentez-vous?” The person greeted Hikaru making her let out a “Whuh?”

“The patient’s disoriented, stop confusing her more.” The doctor spoke, sighing as he shook his head in disdain. “Look at me. How are you feeling?”

“Sh-,” Hikaru struggled with her words as she felt the cold sweat run down her back.

“She doesn’t have a face!” She yelled, creeped out at the nurse accompanying the man. The nurse promptly turned around and rubbed her face, as if touching up make-up.

“Pardonnez moi!” She chimed before turning back around with dull red eyes and a smile.

“Huh? Why are you speaking French?” The doctor asked her before shaking his head, “Forget it.”

“I’m a French nurse!” The lady replied with her index raised and back facing the other two.

“Her face! What just happened!? Wh-where am I!? Who are you!?” Hikaru backed into the bed, trying to get as further away as she could manage.

“Please, Miss Miyazaki, your mother is right outside, she’s very concerned for you. Let’s.. all, calm down and try to talk first, is that okay?” The golden-eyed man spoke, his brown locks swaying as he leaned forward, an attempt at trying to shift Hikaru’s attention.

“There was someone else.. with me.” Hikaru replied, eliciting a gag from the woman behind, which wasn’t received well. “You! You creepy French woman, what’s your fucking deal!?” She yelled out, earning a tired sigh from the man.

“Nurse… Fumika. You can see yourself out, please inform Miyazaki Karin that her daughter is awake and that she’ll be ready to speak to her in a bit.” He held his forehead in vain, not even sparing a glance at the Fumika he was addressing.

“Well. I’ll see you after you’re done dealing with this...” she cleared her throat, passing a cold, sharp look towards Hikaru, “Child. Au revoir.”

“So, Miss Miyazaki, how are you feeling? Apart from the disorientation, of course.” He moved back from her space as Fumika left, a dry smile painted onto his face.

Hikaru stayed silent. As she tried to focus everything began tearing itself apart but she literally shook it off. “Her accent was so shit, it feels like a huge wound opened up, I’m not sure where.” She choked on her words at the end, biting back the clogged sensation in her throat and the mist in her eyes; the lights seemed cold and hard, like metal.

“I… I see. A wound, huh, that’s, I don’t think it's the accent. But I’ve never thought of it like that.” He spoke to himself, a tinge of pity soaking his opinions. He cleared his throat and addressed Hikaru, “And does this name ring any bells: Narukawa Rei.”

It rang more than a bell; it was similar to the siren of a train heading straight towards her. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me these questions?” She averted her gaze.

“You can’t afford to lie to me. No doctor can fix whatever is gonna happen next.” He sighed, opening his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by the room’s door opening.

“Mom!” Hikaru brightened up as the door shut close behind Miyazaki Karin.

“I was so worried, I couldn’t take it anymore, so sorry, doctor.” Karin profusely apologized, not waiting another second to grab the nearest seat, in this case, a stool and held Hikaru with tears lacing her eyelashes, “I was so, so worried, Hikaru… you, I’m so glad you’re okay. What would I have done if something happened to you!? Why were you crossing roads so recklessly, what if you-,” Her voice broke and she let out a sob.

“It’s okay, ma’am, I apologize for taking too long assessing her situation,” He gave an earnest smile, however to Hikaru, it seemed nothing less than an imitation. It made her stomach churn, the name he mentioned, the strangeness surrounding this man, the creepy woman and that dream… which, quite frankly, it seemed akin to a memory than a dream.

It was all too familiar, but she decided to push these thoughts aside and face what was in front of her, “I’m fine, I’m sorry I was too irresponsible. I’ll be more careful from now on, thank you for your care, doctor.” Hikaru responded, making sure her voice sounded drained. She only played along with this strange man’s ruse because she couldn’t sense any hostility… 

Which was puzzling to think of, why and how was she able to determine people’s hostility now?

“Well, my job here is done now, I’ll leave you two be.”

“Hold on. Where do I find you if I need your help again?” Hikaru spoke up.

The doctor chuckled, “Ah, yes, your prescription files have everything needed for your recovery, with contact details.” He walked out while making sure to shut the door softly.

“Why are we in these ridiculous costumes anyway?” Fumika asked as soon as she caught Fairness in her peripheral.

“Wait, this was your idea.”

“…No? I thought you just wanted to see me in a nurse outfit, honestly.”

“I’d rather die than ask you anything like that.” He deadpanned right away, as if the reply was involuntary. “You’re too hideous for my tastes.” He added.

“And what’s the next task?” He continued as he took off the rubber gloves and followed by the mask.

“The next task…? You’re so impatient. Let’s not think of work all the time, I was having fun, y’know, doctor. I also discovered that you have a mole on your nape, too bad it’s usually covered by your hair.” She let out a small laugh, her dark red eyes examining Fairness’ every move.

“Talk to me when you have a new task for me. I’m leaving.” He adjusted his shoulder-length rusty hair, pulling the hair tie off as he prepared to tie his hair into the usual half-up-half-down hairdo, promptly turning around to flee the scene.

She clicked her tongue watching him vanish with a gust of wind. “So, so, so prideful.” She cursed the golden-eyed man before breaking out into a hum. “But don’t worry, I won’t keep you waiting for too long, dearest █████.” 

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

“I know that I was advised against it, I was asked to rest, and yet here I am. Why am I such an idiot?” Hikaru muttered to herself as she stood outside the door leading to her classroom.

“Miyazaki!? Is that you!?” The righteous voice from behind caught her off-guard, not an angel or a crucifier or a weird French nurse without a face, just a classmate. Just a classmate she’s known for the past few months.

She let out a dry chuckle as she turned around, “Y-yes, good morning!” with too much energy, hopefully they would just return the formality and open the door for her.

“Oh my god, are you okay!? I heard you were hospitalized over spring break, we were all so worried for you!”

She was wrong to hope, that was apparent pretty quick. Another awkward laugh left her, “It’s okay, I, I’m fine. Really! I’m even attending school now, see?”

“That’s great, I’m glad you’re okay now.” They opened the door and walked in, prompting Hikaru to do so too.

It was just as she had expected, all eyes were glued to her as the chattering classroom broke into silence, every piercing gaze too curious to look away. She quickly shuffled to her seat, right beside Akira, who was the only one avoiding her presence. “Morning…? Akira?”

Akira’s pencil hued eyes looked up at her dark ones. “Morning.”

Yes, Hikaru did want to dig a grave for herself right then and there, but that’s for nights she cannot catch sleep, like yesterday. Now, however there were more protruding matters to attend to. Like the jeering comments she was hearing.

“Miyazaki, you should go out on a date with me. I won’t let you get into an accident.” This crude comment was followed by a bunch of oohs and giggles from around the classroom. Hikaru’s head turned to find the origin of this… wonderful suggestion. A face far too familiar.

“Ryuuji…” Her voice trailed off, “No, thank you. I’d choose to get run over multiple times.” The room burst into cackles, yet Ryuuji was not embarrassed, far from it, in fact.

“You’re scared that you’ll like me more. I get it. I really do.” He scoffed with a simple shake of his head.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Hikaru rolled her eyes as she held onto Akira’s wrist; she set her bag down in her seat and yanked Akira out of hers.

“We need to talk.” Her voice was akin to her hold, firm and gentle.

“No. Sit.” Akira returned the firmness. Her head stayed lowered, unable to meet Hikaru’s darkened eyes. Of course, Hikaru was puzzled. Her eyes darted around to find any clue as to why her advances were being rejected, nothing in sight, empty faces of curious classmates and that annoying snicker of Ryuuji’s.

“Whatever.” Hikaru pummeled down into her seat, throwing a glare at the annoying boy as she did so.

“Oh, she’s gonna kill me. Save me!” He yelled out, cowering in his seat and bursting out into laughter right after.

“I might as well.” She murmured to herself as she fiddled with her hands.

next chapter.

[potbless]

previous chapter.

Chapter 1: Invoking Fate

Through the pale pink curtains of a moderately sized room, peeked in dim spring sunshine and casted itself on an obsidian-haired girl not-so-soundly asleep in her bed, tossing around amidst a nightmare; inevitably, the sunlight jolted her awake with a gasp, sweat lining her forehead and down the back of her neck. Soon after which the door burst open:

“Hikaru?” A middle-aged woman walked in wearing a look of concern and a pair of cream pyjamas. She sighed looking at the disoriented girl, placing her hand atop Hikaru’s head. “That awful dream again?” She asked.

Hikaru nodded, her eyes remained shut as she leaned into the woman, “Good morning.” Greeted the woman, her voice warm and soothing as she continued to pat Hikaru and hugged her back.

Hikaru groaned: “Not good at all.” The grogginess in her voice was interrupted by a yawn as she let go and stretched her arms out before shivering from the cold. “It’s so cold..”

Hikaru’s mother chuckled at her, “Feeling better?”

“Mhmm,” Hikaru replied. She set her feet down, feeling around the ground, eliciting another shiver. “What’s for-,” a yawn broke her sentence, “Breakfast, mom?”

“I’m still thinking, maybe scrambled eggs? There’s milk and toast as usual.” She pondered, “I’ll toss an apple or orange in. Rice and curry sound good for lunch?”

It was an overwhelming range of choices, but that wasn’t what Hikaru had on her mind; “Wait, wait. I’m not staying for lunch!! I told you yesterday, I’m going out on a date!”

“Oh, and with who?” She inquired, surprise and amusement glimmering in her honey-coloured eyes as she opened the windows and pulled the curtains aside, “Well, I’m glad you didn’t take after my habit of spending the holidays home…” She thought out loud.

“If it goes well, I’ll tell you everything when I get home.” A slight blush invaded Hikaru’s countenance as she toyed with the ends of her hair. However, that answer didn’t satisfy her mother.

“Is it that blue-eyed boy I saw the other day?” She frowned, not so appreciative with the idea of her daughter dating someone like that, “Wait, I thought he’s a foreigner…? Is he not?”

“What are you talking about? Ew! Have some faith in your daughter!” She buried her face in her hands as she flailed around, “He’s not a foreigner either, I think it’s his dad, or was it his mother? I don’t remember.” She mumbled from behind her hands.

“Okay, okay! Then, you better dress your best and sweep that person off their feet.” The enthusiastic woman replied, her short brown hair moving with the wind’s pace.

Hikaru rubbed the back of her neck in dismay, “I’ll try.. I want apples.”

“Noted, come down for breakfast before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hikaru rolled her eyes as she watched her mother walk out. She clicked her tongue in dismay, “Why does she never shut the door..” the girl mumbled as she shook her head making her bed head fall into tangled locks around her.

“Dress my best, was it?” She continued talking to herself, walking up to her wardrobe, in hopes of finding ‘The Outfit’.

“Which one… which one?” She examined everything with her chin between her fingers.

She rummaged through her closet, swearing to clean up the mess once she’s home and examined each piece of clothing that finds her clutches; a black sweater with a black and white plaid short skirt, she imagined herself in the dark outfit.

Too dark for her tastes. Maybe if she were to have lighter hair, or coloured-contacts to add a pop of colour, she would’ve considered it, however today wasn’t the day to merge into shadows. And so, she moved on, tearing through the poor wardrobe’s insides.

A beige maxi skirt. Sure, she could pair it with a white casual button-up? Of course not! A string of curses escaped from under her breath at the thought of dressing semi-formal on a date, Hikaru is a fun person! And our Hikaru was lost thinking of her reaction to each of these outfits.

“There are a few things that only you can pull off,” Hikaru could almost feel her warm chuckle slither into her ears, “I can’t really do colours like pink, or red, or even green, for that matter.” Akira neared closer to Hikaru’s ear, her grey winter-like eyes boring into Hikaru’s dark ones.

“But you? I think you’d look good in everything. It’s hard to imagine you not looking good.” The scent of Akira’s chocolate-tinted hair enveloped her and-

“HIKARU!? BREAKFAST!” Hikaru snapped out of her recollection, caught off-guard in the middle of her messed up room with her heart racing out of her reaches, leaping and trotting from the cavity of her ribcage to the bellows of her throat and her face was almost same shade of pink as the short skirt being crumpled in her hands.

“HIKARU!!”

“Yes! Yes! I’m coming, stop yelling!” She yelled out in frustration.

And so, it was decided, pink was today’s colour.

More precisely, an over-sized white woollen sweater that hung on her shoulders and an arguably cute pink skirt underneath. Hikaru was always the kind to feel cold quicker than most, even if it was mid-spring, and as such, she felt most comfortable with this selection too.

————————————————————————

“Over here.” A shorter, brown-haired girl raised her arm upon spotting Hikaru. She sported black leggings and a white sweater that drew Hikaru’s gaze to her pencil-shaded eyes, but Hikaru hadn’t missed the pleasant smile splayed across her lips; she smiled back through the aching rush on her face, almost sprinting to the girl ahead.

“Akira!” She huffed out upon catching up.

“Hikaru.” Akira responded with a playful tone lacing her voice, visibly impressed at Hikaru’s attire, “This chain, isn’t it the same one we thrifted?”

When Hikaru nodded in response, Akira let out a small chuckle, “No fair, everything looks amazing on you.”

“You’re one to talk. You look just as good and you’re wearing casuals too.” Hikaru dreaded facing Akira, afraid that her face would betray her completely composed voice upon meeting Akira’s gaze.

“My effort to look effortless paid off, then,” However, if Hikaru did look at Akira, she’d have noticed how hard the other girl was holding herself back from grabbing her hand, “Let’s go.” Akira swallowed the lump in her throat and prayed that she wouldn’t be swatted away as she grabbed Hikaru’s wrist. She began walking with Hikaru’s wrist in her hand, afraid of letting the obsidian-haired girl see the smile of triumph on her face.

“What’s the plan today?” Hikaru mustered up the courage to ask, surprised that her chest didn’t implode from containing it all in.

“Arcade? Maybe café-hopping afterwards for lunch, I saw this new place around here when I was wandering with Louis, it was totally your vibe, so we could check that out, maybe? Of course, if you have something else on yo-,” Hikaru cut into Akira’s rambling mid-way upon realising that the palm holding her wrist was sweaty.

“Yeah! Let’s go then.” Hikaru smiled and grabbed Akira’s wrist back, an earnest chuckle leaving her unintentionally, after all, the scene unfolding before her was way too cute.

Akira returned a firm nod; still too embarrassed to face Hikaru, whose heart was swollen with the myriad of emotions swirling within, she affirmed herself: today, she would say it all out loud, that she’d ease this sweet aching that filled every nook and cranny of her.

The arcade was fun, as always. Hikaru had become better at the games- that was a given, seeing how she’s been frequenting here with Akira, convinced that the other was some sort of god at this whole arcade thing. However, today, Hikaru was better at it because she gave it her all trying not to think too much about how often their hands grazed against each other. Accidental or not, it still overwhelmed her.

As for lunch at the new café: Akira had mixed up both of their spoons; although she wasn’t sure if it was deliberate, Hikaru forbade herself from thinking further about it for obvious reasons. They decided on walking around the busy streets soon after.

“We need to cross here to get to the station.” Hikaru noted, looking into her phone as she referred to the map, “Come,” she interlocked her fingers with Akira’s, though it wasn’t a romantic gesture; simply plain concern over crossing a packed road, surely Akira would’ve understood that. Her knuckles were white from holding on tight. However, Akira was too caught up being flabbergasted from the sudden assertiveness.

Hikaru’s mind was plagued with how she still hadn’t confessed, her conviction had never wavered, but her determination kept swaying, even now as she held Akira’s hand whole.

Lost in these thoughts, she hadn’t seen the guy in all-black bumping into her and making her stumble as she tore herself away from Akira’s hand unwillingly. She looked at the man and caught a glimpse of a pair of golden eyes staring into her. It took her a while to realise but it had turned out that she landed on the road on her back.

She heard someone scream, it bothered her. Her sweater felt wet and heavy, it bothered her furthermore. Her mind was still plagued with the same thought, close to becoming her biggest bother. But not quite, what she was most bothered about was Akira crying hovering over her, kneeling on the road and holding onto her hand, her vision blackened at her peripherals, and still it was nice how warm Akira’s hand felt against her skin in the cold spring. At this moment, as she bled onto the pavement under the spring sky, it was most apparent now…

“I like you, Akira.”

And it hurt, the wound, yes. But more so how her firm voice had failed her at the very last moment.

next chapter.

[potbless]

Prologue

The ground below ached;

The wind bellowed and echoed;

The clouds darkened;

It was truly a day of despair in Heaven. The sunlight that used to bless the very many creatures, akin to the gaze of a mother, had dulled and dimmed down at the downfall of their benevolent ruler, a god. Whispers of an imbalance sneaked through, spreading far and wide, from the lips of a noble guard to the twisting tongue of an old witch at the corner of a forgotten village. A declaration was yet to be made, but they all knew, after all, the absence was far too grand and made it all the more depressing for it to not be acknowledged. 

And so, a young god clothed in bright red, stood above a gathered crowd, his burning eyes were earnest and they were glazed bitter red, he cleared his throat; positioned atop the heavenly abode of a deceased god, his hair glowed in the dim sunlight and called on the attention of everyone below. As he reached out for his glasses and an envelope with a print of the heavenly sigil: swirls of acanthus’ and an intricate chrysanthemum, the crowd acknowledged the god by pausing their bickering and speculations. 

They dragged their eyes upwards, scaling the elaborate renaissance marble columns, only stopping once they’ve found the god, comically little from the crowd’s view. However, it didn’t diminish his presence, not at all; whether it was the anticipation or just that he was a god: they looked up in reverence. And so they braced themselves for whatever their god would bestow upon them.

“Beings of Heaven, as The Overseer of Monetary Affairs, I, Io Vesuvius, am extremely saddened to announce that our beloved ruler, The Exalted One, Kouken Narukawa, The Utmost Supreme was found deceased in her abode under unknown circumstances.” His voice was clear, hollow and heavy. Columns of light broke through the dark clouds, as if the universe had aligned in his favor and decided to cast its gentle gaze on him. The crowd burst into gasps; shouts and voices of retaliation brewed. 

Even so, he continued with his eyes closed, paying no regard to the commotion. “The Bureau will continue to function as before. And I humbly ask of you to tolerate me, and the rest of The Exalted Bureau, as your temporary leaders sanctified by Lord Hanako’s benevolence.” He placed the card back into the envelope and adjusted his glasses with the free hand before clearing his throat as the crowd kept growing louder.

“Where’s Hanako!?” 

“Lies! You damn conspires!” 

“With this,” His voice stern and louder than before, forcing the attention towards him once more, “I officially declare the end of The Utmost Supreme, Lord Kouken’s rule and legacy. May the Universe, the Creator and Life emancipate Heaven!” Io unfurrowed his brows soon after and rushed out the balcony, leaving the agitated crowd. He gazed at his hand; mortified at its trembling as he grabbed and clutched onto it. 

“My Lord?” A fretting assistant rushed forward out of the shadows in concern. Io let go of his wrist in dismay, letting his hands fall to his sides. He scanned the empty corridor, apart from the fact that it seemed to go on endlessly on either side, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not a soul in sight (aside from the anxious and familiar assistant), of course not, when everyone’s gathered and waiting for him a few floors below, why did he expect to find anything out here?

“You’re here. Good, good.” He exhaled and patted the nervous man’s back in relief. “I need you to coordinate with the other Bureau members’ respective offices and begin officiating the mourning period for The Exalted One. Right now. You are not allowed to cut any corners, none at all. There’s enough suspicion on us already, even without announcing the news of Lord Hanako’s-,” He paused, closing his eyes in deep thought as he held his temples while relaying the situation. The high ceilings echoed his voice in the silence as the raging crowd’s banter reached in faintly.

“That fucking Lann. Always, always choosing the worst of times to play his cards.” He cursed under his breath, promptly running his hands through his hair. “Do not give anyone any chance to point fingers at us, do you get that?” He wagged his finger in front of the assistant’s face, who frantically followed the god’s index with deep subservience in his eyes. 

“My Lord, excuse my rudeness, I, I simply cannot guarantee that! The Bureau is far too eccentric for me to-,” He was interrupted by Vesuvius. 

“Well, you do not have a choice and neither do I, and I do not want Heaven falling apart with my face plastered in the fore center. Do you understand?” He exhaled; a slight apologetic tone invaded his voice as he spoke.

“B-but, my lord-,” 

“I need a three-letter, one syllable answer. No protests and-or complaints.” He furrowed his brows and turned his red gaze towards the poor man.

“Y-yes, sir..” The man answered, defeated. He nodded and walked off right after, most definitely to scream out into an isolated cubicle, or at least that is what Io assumed. 

The god took to his shivering hand once more and mumbled to himself with a horrified visage before walking towards the congregation room, he was greeted with the gaze of many, many gods seated in disdain, as if he were the center of the large elliptical room. He noted the empty seats, namely, Cordellia, Chandasena and Hanako, he let out a sigh for what seemed like the millionth time of the day. 

He found his seat at the other end of the room and stood there as he began addressing the rather intense gathering, “I too, believe that Lord Kouken’s death was no accident as do all of you. But…” 

 ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ 

A momentary flash of his life played before his eyes and he felt… pain. Just a few moments ago he was strolling atop this roof, only to find himself enveloped by an arresting sense of aching. His body was on fire, even if it didn’t look like it, was his blood burning…? 

No, his blood was being devoured with such momentous intensity, as though his veins were being boiled- he opened his mouth to let out a scream: to let go of it all, to chase after the fading flowers, the scent that was steadily leaving his memories, like pages being burnt in the library of his mind; he felt it all disintegrate as he fell to his knees with his eyes closed, the slight wrinkles deepening with his grimace, and he finally fell over, seemingly dead.

The next moment he opened his gold eyes, he was met with the city skyline, as before; except now there was a silhouette blocking a major part of it. “Where am I?” He muttered. His eyes widened as he kept thinking. “It’s all gone,” He covered his face with his palms as he went pale, still on the ground. “Everything… is gone.” 

“Feeling fresh?” The silhouette asked, his un-focusing eyes found its way to the source of the voice, a woman clad in red, with a thick, long swaying grey braid behind her, and seemingly, one with no face, reminiscent of a mannequin. 

“I don’t know.” He replied dryly. “I’m tired.” 

He lifted himself off the ground, “Who am I?” he asked the woman. “I had a name before I woke up.”

“I don’t know either. But from what I could tell, you were a noble soul.” She replied, holding her chin between her index and thumb.

“I, I hated you..? Is that right?” He asked again, staring up at the night sky. 

“As much as it pains me, yes. You’ve tried to kill me multiple times.” 

He jolted up right, listening to the instincts yelling at him; he raised his fist to her face, only to be blocked by her index with tremendous force, the man quickly improvised and raised his other hand, this time he caught her neck in his tightened hold. 

“It was you. What did you do?” He asked with a deep furrow etched between his brows. She chuckled in response with a few coughs breaking it up.

“I wa-,” She coughed and took in a sharp breath, “I was,” She coughed once more and began smacking his hefty forearm as her legs scattered around in the air. 

“I know far too well that you do not breathe. Drop the act.” He exhaled, eliciting a laugh from her. 

“Busted! I was bored!” She lifted her arms up signaling her defeat. 

“Give me my memories back. Right now.” He let go of her, the woman dropped to the ground in a doll-like manner. The tired man wondered whether he would find doll stuffing inside her limbs.

She stood up and dusted her clothes, “God, you’re so boring. You meet a woman for the first time-,” she paused, “Well, first time for you, of course, and you won’t ask for her name, nothing! Just straight to business? Just like that? My name is Fumika. If you even care.” 

“If I cared I would’ve remembered more than just despising you.” 

“I want to change that!” She giggled, the dark metal trinkets on her dress jangled as she swayed. 

“Give me my memories back.” 

“Ugh. You sound like a broken record, giive me my memories baaack..!” She let out a gagging noise, showcasing her disapproval. Upon noticing that he wasn’t amused with any of it, she sighed. 

“Alright, alright. I won’t give them back for free, obviously.” She sighed as she shook her head. “C’mon say it.” She whined.

“What do you want?” He asked. 

“Finally! Yes, so, I want you to carry out my orders, the first one being as soon as possible. With every task done, I’ll give you a portion of your memories back. It’s a great deal! We both win!” Fumika tapped his forehead on her tiptoes as she spoke of his memories; yet still, all he could notice was the empty face displaying her duplicity.

He sighed. “Do I have a choice?” 

“No.” 

“Get it over with, then.” 

“Your first task is… to kill Miyazaki Hikaru.” Fumika spoke with her hand outstretched and upon shaking her hand, he felt a fraction of his memory being restored, it was an odd feeling; he noted it to be similar to nostalgia, a rather intense rendition of it.

“Found anything useful?” She retracted her arm.

“A name. You can call me Fairness.” He replied in a flat tone. 

“Alright, Fairness. Glad to make your acquaintance.” Fumika jeered. “Now, I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. It is your turn now.”

next chapter.

[x0x0charlie]

A gale swept through Hell, the dark strands of hair framing his face swayed with it, almost the same as the first time he set foot here, except that the caress was acutely different. What once was a scent that carried curses and the liveliness of a young man, was now akin to the sigh of an old man brimming with regret. The boy gazed down at his lap, a heaviness, breathing and aching, fast asleep; wincing at the uneven brown bangs getting in her face as she tussled around.

He then looked up at the dying sky, it was a shade that he once believed to be found only behind her shut eyelids. Fickle time had— no, it was his mind that was fickle, wandering within the memories of a bygone life.

“She can't pronounce her S's and T's clearly. Not that it ever stopped her from talking her ass off,” The young boy paused, absentmindedly staring into the comic book under him on the bed, carefully considering his words, “Around me, at least.” He added as an afterthought, fiddling with the pages using his right hand and resting his chin on the left.

“You talk about Akira as if you really love her.. do you?” Calliope asked, her head titled to the left. Her hair was as vividly crimson as he remembered it to be. The question made his eyes widen back then; after all he'd never expected to be asked something like that. From Calliope too, of all people.

He let out a little laugh as he rolled around, shutting the comic and tossing it aside.

His amused blue eyes bored into Calliope's green, upside-down as his hair fell from the bed towards the ground, just sly of touching it. “What even is really loving something?” He deadpanned. And before she could answer, he began again, “I love Nii-Nii, I love cats, I love my mom, I love winter, I love Akira, I love the smell of gasoline, I love Arthur, I love the cheap spicy fries from the alley next to our arcade. What do you make of this, then, do I really love these?”

He had said it all so.. simply, as if it was just that easy. It all felt so recent, as if the distance between the girl on his lap and him hadn't existed to begin with, as if the little girl with brown pigtails was still somewhere in there, hidden in those shallow breaths. Though, even if she was, it wouldn't change the fact that what used to be a harmonious melody is now a broken cacophony.

It wouldn't change the fact that the star guiding them home had died.

He bit his tongue, feeling the bitterness envelope him and when he looked down once more upon sensing movement. He fully expected those grey eyes to be star-lined like they once were, only to be met with stoic grey clouds, a mere hull of what it was. The boy blinked at her, slightly caught off-guard.

Right.

Things have changed. Her hair was now shorter and his longer. They've lost each other, and they keep drifting farther and farther.

The same could be said for Akira too. As she looked up at Louis, ready to embrace a blue as free as the sky, only to find the deepest of the ocean trenches. The fault was engraved within her; damned were her efforts as the girl who only knew how to break things, and when they needed fixing, she could only break them further in hopes of something fitting right, it was the same for her heart, for Louis' and—

...

It was laughable, and pitiful in all honesty.

She tore her mind off past grievances, “What's for dinner.. something sweet hopefully?” Akira asked, rubbing her eyes; her S's and T's still unclear. Just as before, her words brimmed with just as much foolishness as yesterday.

“Ugh. No, don't ask for such things when I'm cooking.” Louis gruntled, knitting his brows.

“What's the point of eating spicy everyday? My stomach is going to catch fire one of these days." Akira yawned at the end of her jest. Louis rolled his eyes hearing that, their meals were sufficiently seasoned with the spice, it was enough. (According to him.)

“You're free to cook for yourself,” He replied with a flatness thwarting his words.

“Your kitchen is gonna come burning down.”

After a few moments he clicked his tongue in defeat. “Fine.”

Some things remain unchanged, barely a remainder of what it was. A fabricated normalcy.. all for the sake of normalcy.

[potbless]

this actually maybe belongs here.. it might also be ooc now.. haha..