Summary: Sherlock is new to the whole romantic relationship thing, so who better to ask for advice than the boy who managed to steal his little sister's heart? First step, flowers.
Words: ~1.7k
A/N: This was meant to be part of the Writer's Month challenge, but didn't get to post it. I wondered how Sherlock would interact with Tewkesbury now that he and Enola became serious and I don't think Tewkesbury and Sherlock had been in a scene alone together, so this fic was made. Reader is referred to with gender neutral terms except for their occupation as governess.
This can be read as part of the We Get To Decide universe or a stand-alone.
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Sherlock frowned at the selection of flowers in front of him. Tewkesbury played with the rim of his hat awkwardly, realizing that this was the first time that he and the great Sherlock Holmes, renowned consulting detective and his love’s older brother, had spent time together.
When Sherlock appeared at his estate, Tewkesbury feared the worst had happened, that Enola was in trouble and her brother needed his help. Another possibility was another attempt on his life and that Sherlock was put on the case to protect him. The third, and most likely, was that Sherlock was working a case and he needed information that Tewkesbury may be privy to, whether it concerned someone in the House of Lords or another nobleperson.
Still, the younger man was still not sure why Sherlock Holmes wanted him to take him to the market and teach him about flowers. So, he inhaled slowly before mustering up the courage to explain each flower and its meaning. The older man let him, having known the name of each flower, its scientific name, place of origin, and its uses, but floriography, as this young lord called it, was something he had never bothered to look into. Lord Tewkesbury then continued the combination of certain flowers and what messages he could make with them.
“And this is what… couples do?” Sherlock asked, frown deepening.
Tewkesbury blinked. “Yes, quite. As you know, our society does not condone men and women in being forthright with their romantic thoughts and feelings, which is why different methods of sending messages have been developed. The fan messages, for example,” he explained.
Sherlock nodded. “Even Enola seemed to like them and she is not one to indulge in such… frivolities,” he said, trying to phrase it politely. “But I suppose that it does require prior knowledge to understand the meaning of floral arrangements and to arrange a message carefully crafted while still maintaining the appearance of an appealing romantic gesture does have its benefits. Our mother left her clues within the flowers once. Edith did say that I was too stuck in my logic and old ways to notice the crafty lengths that women go through to communicate their thoughts while remaining within societal boundaries. Fascinating. And how did you come to this knowledge, Lord Tewkesbury?”
“I just asked the floral shop owner,” Tewkesbury said simply.
“Ah…” Sherlock’s frown returned.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Holmes, what is it that you’re here for?”
“I need to make a floral arrangement.”
“Okay, of what exactly? Love, friendship, familial love, hate, forgiveness, mourning…”
Sherlock stared hard at the flowers as he gave it a thought. What is it that he wanted to convey to you that he wasn’t able to say in words? He knew you loved his letters but he worried that it might not be enough after Enola mentioned that a young businessman had shown interest in you while you were helping at Edith’s tea shop and he was away on a case. He hadn’t asked you about it and you never mentioned it.
His mind flitted through many combinations of flower arrangements when he saw Tewkesbury move, speaking quietly to the shop owner. The woman nodded and retrieved a small bundle of white lilies, the stems cut short for easier handling and tied neatly together with a light pink ribbon. Purity, innocent love, beauty, devotion.
“Enola said she likes these,” Tewkesbury said, holding it close to his chest.
“Hm, perhaps I should have asked what kind of flowers they wanted as well.”
“You can’t go wrong with a red rose.”
“Red rose is basic. This person needs… more.”
“What are you trying to tell this person, Mr. Holmes?”
“I don’t know!” Sherlock snapped. Tewkesbury’s eyes widened at his sudden outburst. “I’m sorry, I… It seems that I am out of my depth and I don’t like not knowing.”
Tewkesbury nodded. Seems that suppressed feelings and prioritizing logic is a Holmes family trait. “How about something simple to start off? Red roses and baby’s breath.”
The young lord had the shop owner make another small bouquet, tying it up in a white satin ribbon. He handed it over to Sherlock who dug through his pocket and paid the woman with a grateful nod. Sherlock looked down at the vibrant flowers and sniffed. His eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to sniff again.
“It makes me wonder… about the people who end up marrying for love and not duty. How women are told they must marry to have a semblance of hold within society or will struggle to get by. They are trained at a young age to be a wife and a mother while the men are educated in other matters and only marry to produce an heir. Buying flowers for someone you love and for it to have meaning… such sentimental things are not what we are told,” Sherlock mused.
“I was raised to be a lord, Mr. Holmes. I was not taught these… frivolities and sentimentality, as you called them. I learned them on my own. Observation, isn’t that what you Holmes siblings pride yourselves in? Also, the power of deduction and human empathy,” Tewkesbury said, his words proving why he had become such a prominent member of the House of Lords at a young age and why Enola Holmes fell in love with him.
“You’re quite right, young Lord Tewkesbury. I will assume that I will be seeing more of you around my sister.”
Tewkesbury blushed. “I… well, yes, only if she wants me to be.”
Sherlock nodded, pulling his cap from his coat pocket and shoving his curls down. “That is the right answer. Have a good day, Lord Tewkesbury.”
“Before you go, Mr. Holmes, may I give you some advice regarding your… friend?”
Sherlock raised an eyebrow but nodded for him to continue.
“Be honest with them and just tell them how you feel. Communicate. It goes a long way.”
“Honesty I can do, but not many appreciate it. Apparently I lack tact.”
Ah, another Holmes trait, then, Tewkesbury thought.
With that, Sherlock left the market and made his way over to your flat. Lately, you’ve been taking up learning different languages. While taking on a governess job from wealthy and upper middle class families did you well financially, they seem to require their kids to have a wider scope in their education, often bringing in private tutors that sneer and look down on you, saying the need for a governess is fading. Besides, you didn’t come from a wealthy family and they were sure to remind you of that. You didn’t have the same education as these kids, but that didn’t stop you from learning now.
There was a gentle knock on your door, followed by a familiar smooth voice. “It’s me,” Sherlock said.
You shot up from your seat, bookmarking your place in the book and hurried over to the door. There Sherlock stood with a small bouquet of flowers and a hesitant smile. He stuck out his hand, watching you expectantly.
“These are beautiful, Sherlock. Thank you,” you said with a shy smile, taking them from him. His hand dropped to his side before holding both hands behind his back. “Come in, come in.”
You stepped back and let him through, his towering figure scooting past you and into the small flat. He took in his surroundings, the way you decorate your place and how you organize your kitchen and room. You walked back to your chair and watched him take everything in, slowly moving around the room to inspect things closely.
He spotted the pocket mirror he had gifted you right next to your bed and found himself smiling, a strange fluttery feeling in his chest. He frowned at that and decided to look into it later.
“Not that I mind seeing you, Sherlock, but what exactly brings you here?” you asked, gesturing for him to sit.
He sat himself down in the cushioned chair, his large figure dwarfing the furniture. The flowers he got you were sitting happily in a glass vase, proudly displayed on the table between you. He thought of what the young lord had told him earlier. Be honest and communicate.
“I… just wanted to see you.”
“Yeah?” You grinned widely. Before, it was Sherlock who had you flustered without even knowing, but now that he was out of his element, he was the one struggling.
“Yes, I didn’t have any cases going on and Dr. Watson is on a trip with a woman he’s seeing. Mary. She’s a nurse that he met at work. Wouldn’t shut up about her, actually.”
“So, you’re saying that you’re here because you have nothing else better to do?”
“No! I mean that I am not busy, so I can spend the entire day with you, if you wish,” he quickly corrected.
“I know, I was just teasing you.” You got up from your seat to stand in front of him. He visibly swallowed as he looked up, blue eyes vulnerable and alert. “I do wish to spend the entire day with you, my dear Sherlock.”
He exhaled slowly, as if the endearment unlocked something in him that was wound too tight. “What would you like to do today… my dear?”
You smiled. “How about a walk in the park first? Then lunch,” you suggested.
“As you wish.”
You walked arm in arm with Sherlock along the paved walkways of the park, enjoying each other’s company, pointing out observations to each other and recounting the days since you last saw each other. Sherlock was upset about the unfair treatment that some of the private tutors of children that you were a governess for and you reminded him that that was similar to the treatment that you had when your family worked at the Holmes estate growing up.
A man in modest work clothing rushed up to you and Sherlock, constantly looking over his shoulder. “Sherlock Holmes, please, I need your help,” the man pleaded.
Sherlock instinctively pushed you behind him and narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”
“They’re after me. I don’t know who.” The man took out a crumpled envelope and handed it to the consulting detective with shaky hands.
Sherlock’s quick eyes scanned it and surmised a worthy case to be solved. He sighed, looking over at you apologetically. You tightened your arm around his, determination in your eyes.
Your post about Jean getting Jeremy flowers has just reignited my desperate desire of #someone get Jeremy Knox flowers 2k26 😭
How do we feel about Jean collecting a bouquet of (insert flower here) and gifting it to Jeremy but he does that old school trick of slipping in a single fake flower amongst the real ones? And him telling Jeremy “I’ll remain by your side until the last flower dies”? 😭❤️
Now that reminds me of O.Henry’s "The Last Leaf" 💔
What if Jean and Jeremy are not even together together yet, not officially at least. Jeremy is locked up in the Wilshires mansion after he failed his LSAT (i don't really know when Jeremy has to take the exam, but my guess is the upcoming spring. unless i'm wrong and it ruins the whole idea lol). The first night Jeremy spent there after the terrible and humiliating dinner he thought he wouldn't survive, that first night William knocked at the door to his room gently and then opened it slowly. Jeremy, who already tucked himself under the blanket in a desperate need to disappear, lifted his head and nodded at their butler to come in. William did, as quietly as possible, holding something in his hands. Jeremy looked at it curiously and then his eyes went wide. Even wider when William said "Mr. Moreau paid a quick visit. He asked me to give them to you". With that said William held out a simple bouquet of wildflowers. Jeremy felt his heart racing. He took the bouquet carefully and held his breath. They were mainly blue. Cluster lilies and small lupines but also some flashes of california poppies here and there. The bouquet was a little droopy and rushed but so pretty and meaningful, Jeremy felt a strong pang in his chest. "Is he still here?" Jeremy asked, forcing his voice to be normal, not whiny and needy. William shook his head. "I suggested that Mr. Moreau go back home before it's too late at night," the butler added and Jeremy understood the implication too well. "That's wise," was all Jeremy could say before pressing a tip of his nose to the flowers, inhaling deep. The smell of it, the single thought of Jean collecting them for Jeremy sent a shiver down Jeremy's spine, then legs, making his knees weak. Never in his life was he given flowers. Jeremy realized too late what he was doing, catching William's too understanding eyes and blushing, hiding his red face behind this beautiful bouquet. "Perhaps you need a vase for them. I'll bring it for you but first let me point out that you missed a note." Jeremy blinked dumbly. "A note?" "A note on the bouquet," William explained patiently as always and headed to the kitchen, leaving Jeremy baffled. He took a closer look and saw it. A small ragged piece of paper was attached to the bouquet with a purple hair tie, which Jeremy assumed was Cat’s. He smiled at that little detail and detached the note from it. Jeremy has seen Jean’s handwriting so many times there was no doubt it was really Jean who wrote the words. The way Jeremy’s heart clenched for the second time was bordering on dangerous. He wasn’t sure he could calm his own rapid heartbeat when he read the lines in French. "I'll remain by your side until the last flower dies." The art of killing Jeremy with beautiful disarming words, and Jean mastered it like no one else. How Jean could find the right words at the darkest hours, how he could feel what Jeremy craved to hear? Jeremy's hands were shaking by the fifth reread of a single phrase, as if he couldn't believe this was real. The note was tucked into a random textbook Jeremy had to hide under his bed. He reached for it every morning, he looked at it every night before going to sleep. Mathilda was choking him further, the flowers were slowly drying up. Until they were not. Not every one of them. A single iris seemed still fresh and alive, unlike other flowers collected in the wild. Jeremy didn't pay attention the first time but now he could see it perfectly. The iris was different. A few days later, after Warren was done signing papers meant to end Jeremy's entire exy career, Jeremy let William take care of the dead flowers, trusting him to make a dried bouquet out of them. The iris stayed with Jeremy though. A strong vivid flower, helping him through this nightmare, and a very special note. It's my last year, Jeremy thought. As a Trojan, but not ever. As long as I have him by my side, we are going to win.
I think about Luna and Ámbar growing up together a lot cause like
Sharon barely has energy to spend time with Ámbar. Imagine having to raise two girls, who also are VASTLY different. Like, Ámbar may be receptive and do what you're saying, but you can't change Luna how much you try. True, growing up with Sharon might have made her a bit more quieter, but she's still gonna be Luna.
Ámbar I imagine as a kid already being very organized. She feels like the type of kid who lines up her toys in a perfect line and doesn't want to break it. She plays with each toy one and one and then puts it back before going to the next. Her toys all have specific sleeping spots. They need to be put at the correct places on her shelf, or else she'll throw a tantrum.
Luna... plays with all her toys at once. No structure. Ponies in the dollhouse, stuffed animals on the floor, and toys scattered EVERYWHERE in the house despite Sharon constantly telling her to keep the toys INSIDE her room. Luna also tends to wander off and explore, she's come into the house many times with dirty clothes or muddy shoes. Sharon's most common phrase to her is "Why can't you just do what you're told?" and Luna just... does not know. She doesn't mean to cause mischief... she just forgets so easily.
Absolutely that Sharon wants to pit Ámbar and Luna against each other and compare them, but I also think that Luna does not have that feeling of needing Sharon's appoval like Ámbar does. Especially because Alfredo most likely visits a lot and he ALWAYS is on Luna's side, assuring both her Ámbar that Sharon is too strict and they should just do what they want. Alfredo also shares stories about Lili and Bernie and Luna feels more connected to them. Sadly I think Alfredo will favorise Luna like he did in canon and just like he did with Lili. And I think Ámbar will get a bit of a sense that she doesn't belong because she's adopted and everyone else is blood related. At the same time, Sharon often talks about how she's much better behaved than Luna, making Ámbar feel a bit of a superiority.
But all the complications, drama and trauma that would happen by Luna and Ámbar growing up together, both being raised by Sharon too... here's also some funny lighthearted things I can see happening:
Luna asking Sharon if she can roller skate inside because the mansion is so big, and Sharon is like. reading a book not listening so she's like "do what you want just leave me alone". Ámbar is like "Sharon said yes??? Ok then I will roller skate too!!!!" and so both of them start roller skating through the corridor and leaving marks on the floor. Eventually one of them crashes or straight up falls down the stairs and when Sharon confronts them they're like "You said yes actually?"
Here's the thing I think Sharon would never want to hire a nanny because she does not trust people… who knows what kind of ideas the nannies would put in their head?? She wants the kids to ONLY be influenced by her. So sometimes she kind of has to keep an eye of them. She basically wants them to "play quietly" in the living room, she can allow them watching TV if the volume is low and the kids show is not too "annoying". However, she eventually just falls asleep and the girls sneak off, OR at some occasion she actually got caught up watching the kids show and didn't notice the girls were gone. Eventually a staff member comes in wondering why she's watching Lazytown all alone.
Since Luna wanders off so much I can legit see Sharon just put her on a leash when they're out. Like the image of Sharon being outside, Ámbar stands next to her clutching to her arm acting as well behaved as she can, while Luna is like 5 meters behind them, having stopped to investigate a bug, but being dragged by the leash Sharon is holding.
Sometimes Ámbar and Luna snuck into each others rooms and shared a bed for the night for comfort :,)
Both Ámbar and Luna are picky eaters so I think at one weak point in Sharon's life she took them to McDonalds just so they would eat something and she cringed every second they were there (the girls loved it though)
Luna feels like a child who would randomly cut her own hair "because she just wanted to" and then Ámbar was like "omg cut my hair too let's play hair salon!!"... Sharon fainted when she saw them
Ámbar and Luna both had sleepovers at the same time at one point. Sharon was basically like "I'm gonna be in my room don't disturb me" so the kids had free roaming. All night they played pranks on each other, played games and while they were supposed to sleep in their rooms, they ended upp passing out in the living room. So when Sharon came down in the morning, she just saw a bunch of preeteen girls passed out on the couches or on the floor like they were hungover. She was like "It's too early in the morning for this" and then went to drink coffee.
Honestly I think Sharon has had TOO MANY "I'm too tired to deal with this" moments with especially Luna. She's been walking in on her doing the weirdest things
and i repeat: anthropo-ceramics geto suguru is the type of toxic where he'd take your virginity, make a sculpture about the experience, then smash it on the ground as a metaphor
this ask is my entire life. this ask is my lifeblood. everyone please saddle up for the ride of a lifetime, otherwise known as 1500ish words of toxic geto featuring sukuna being a good fucking friend – please continue at ur own risk this absolutely contains geto being a pretentious toxic fucker and mentions of virginity/first time but yes i guarantee it does have a happy ending (link to the full college! cinematic universe here)
let’s begin with the basics – why wouldn’t you fuck geto suguru? he has the type of beauty that lingers on the back of your eyelids even after you’ve long since departed from him; it’s the kind of fragrant, lasting beauty that you think sculptors muse over when they coax life from their marble. he’s smooth, like still water, and calming, like the sound of birds rustling and leaves swaying at dawn. he is helen: a beauty that nations would go to war over.
and sure, he is pretentious, the kind of toxic pretentiousness that festers inside of all pretty boys who call themselves “leftists” but can’t be bothered to call their mothers or to care about their partners. but it’s the way he speaks, the way he looks at you with such fervor and attention in his eyes that you’re utterly willing to let him break your heart.
and maybe it’s not often that someone looks at you the way geto does: it’s not often that someone looks at you like they want you, body and soul. and it feels nice to be cared about, to be flirted with, even if the figure doing the flirting condescends you in a way that is different, harsher, colder, than the way ryomen sukuna does.
so geto suguru takes you on dates. after the avant-garde poetry reading, in which you feigned excitement as he recited a poem on global imperialism that you didn’t quite vibe with, he brings you to local bookstores with overpriced yuppie memoirs, farmers’ markets with organic fruit, human rights protests and philosophy meetings where greasy boys bitterly discuss the communist manifesto. he takes you to dinner, too, to vegan restaurants that you can’t help but rave about on yelp later and to bars where they serve your cocktails in mason jars.
geto suguru, for all his faults, is incredibly lighthearted with you; he makes you feel beautiful and desirable and warm, even when he’s explaining anthropology to you with such intense vigor that you lose track of his meaning. after everything, you’d be lying if you said you regretted your time with him.
after awhile you let geto fuck you – and yes, he was your first time, which you were naturally quite nervous about. but you appreciated him because he waited for you; he never pressured you into behaviors you didn’t want; he never asked you for services you weren’t ready to provide. and so when you slept with him, after an invigorating open-mic night at the fair-trade coffee shop near campus, you felt ready for the intimacy. geto made you feel attractive, comfortable, safe. he praised you the whole night, gave you caresses that lit you up like fireworks, provided such a level of god-tier aftercare you still reminisce about it, even now.
but that’s the thing about anthropology-ceramics major geto suguru: he’s quietly toxic. he’s a poison that sneaks up on you, infecting your bloodstream when you least expect it.
you weren’t sure if geto wanted to pursue a relationship, either. you’d fucked, sure, and you went on dates, but he was always the type to avoid long-term commitments. rumors float around campus of the many partners he’s ghosted, of the relationships he exploited for his own “artistic musings.” they aren’t loud rumors, to be sure, but they hang around his aura like a strange, ghostly scent.
geto is a pretentious little fuck. you’ve known it and agreed to enter his circle anyway. maybe you hoped, perhaps naively, that the rumors would simply not apply to you.
which was a stupid idea. three weeks after the experience, since which you have only spent one-on-one time with geto only a few times, mostly to talk about school, the art department hosts an art show. it’s a regular occurrence, where the art students show off their best works, grad students display their in-progress theses, and outsiders can browse the displays, drink wine, offer to give outstanding students jobs and internships. it’s truly a big fucking deal for the art department; many of the school’s the most successful artists received their first acclaim here.
you’ve always enjoyed attending, even if the level of talent and expertise sometimes intimidates you, even if you know you’ll never be on this level. you know sukuna’s got a few paintings lined up to be on display – paintings you’ve modeled for, drawings you’ve watched him labor over for hours on end. you reckon that for all your begrudging time together, you might as well show your face in support.
but what you didn’t count on was geto’s contribution.
at this art show, there are, every now and then, some interactive performances, speeches, explanations on certain works. so it happens that from the back of the auditorium you watch geto take the stage, wheeling a small, white sculpture behind him. from your perspective it could have been a flower – perhaps a lily, but you can’t be certain.
(geto always did like sculpting precious, dainty flowers.)
he doesn’t call you by name, but he doesn’t have to. he talks at great length in that smooth voice of his about the construct of virginity, the purity culture plaguing the globe, the emotional sensitivity of having your first time. geto seguru tells an avid audience what you felt about fucking for the first time. he recreates the entire night for two hundred listeners: he recalls the foreplay, the insecurity, the orgasms. he doesn’t call you by name. he doesn’t have to.
he may have asked for your consent the first time. but he certainly did not ask your permission to do this.
you’re not sure if you should laugh or cry when geto dramatically smashes his own sculpture, citing the “destruction of virginity” and the need “to demolish a social desire to classify one’s morality based upon their sexual activity” and “the symbolic popping of the cherry” among other phrases that are utter bullshit. you’re watching the fragments dance across the stage and you feel exploited. you feel used in a way that feels utterly worse than anything else geto could have done.
did he ever like you? or were you simply a muse for this moment?
you’re about to ditch the art show and go wallow in self pity at your apartment when a familiar presence slides in beside you.
“that’s kinda fucked,” sukuna says, hands in his jacket pockets. he’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his tone tells you he’s joking. maybe he just doesn’t know. “no one gives a shit about virginity constructs anymore, idiot.”
“yeah,” you respond, but the energy is gone. you feel strange, like you’re hovering outside of yourself. your head hurts: you’re angry. you decide you’d like to cry when you get home. “what a piece of shit.” it comes out strangled and lost.
sukuna notices the dejection in your voice, the sag in your shoulders, the way you’re just barely able to hold yourself together. he may be arrogant, not ryomen sukuna is not mean.
a familiar arm around your shoulders, keeping your sanity together. “shit’s lame. let’s get the fuck out of here.” it’s a phrase that captures everything that remains unsaid between you: i’m going to beat the shit out of geto the next time i see him. that’s absolutely unbelievable.
you never explicitly told sukuna about your weird relationship with geto: you didn’t have to. it was always evident to the both of you. it was written in the way you’d look a little bit longer in geto’s direction, in the way you let yourself be strung along and become someone else. you’ve hung around sukuna long enough that you know his body language and that he knows yours. you’ve hung around sukuna enough that there are a lifetime of stories that never need to be told.
you nod. “yeah.” thank you. i know.
you’re both uncharacteristically silent when you exit the auditorium, when you collect sukuna’s belongings that are still lounging by his artwork as you prepare to leave. ryomen sukuna is famous for never shutting the fuck up. but as you button your coat, he’s silent, and it’s strange. comfortable.
“thank you,” you say with uncharacteristic softness as he throws a sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it shut.
“why?”
“for asking my permission,” you say, gesturing to the gallery wall behind him, to the painting of you – “eros” – that you had posed for awhile back. even now, you find that it captures an essence you did not know you possessed. “he didn’t. ask, i mean.”
ryomen sukuna has always craved your attention. and maybe he’s glad he’s got it back – but it feels sour. he doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking upset for you. he doesn’t understand why he wants so badly for you to be happy again. what he does understand is that he plans for retribution.
“that’s fucked,” he settles on. “what bastard doesn’t ask for consent?”
you smile – and he does too, one that’s less feral and almost kind. and so you fall back into routine, already, some kind of weight lifting from your shoulders. ryomen sukuna may be a menace, but you can rely on him, trust him: that much you know.
“you know,” sukuna says offhandedly as you exit the building and enter the parking lot. “i know where geto’s car is, i’m just saying. and i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have an extra precision knife in my backpack right now.”
notes: this was requested by an anon and yes, it’s based off of the comics
summary: with tensions rising in Yu Dao, Aang seeks the Princess’s help in an effort to sway Zuko in the right direction
~ part of the fire lilies series ~
Aang’s heart is heavy with dread as he approaches the Southern Water Tribe for the first time since having left it nearly two years ago. Half constructed buildings peer out from the clouds, and as Appa nears closer to land the Avatar can see the statue of the south’s beloved leader. Her permanently etched smile does little to ease his nerves as he mulls over how he’s going to deliver the news to her, and though he hates to break his promise to Zuko he has found lately that some promises aren’t meant to be kept.
The moment the flying bison lands in the snow all the school children are quick to rush forward and excitedly crowd around the animal and the Avatar. In the distance you stand, a delighted smile on your face at the sight of your friend whom you immediately pull into a hug.
“Aang! It’s so good to see you again,” you exclaim before pulling out of the embrace. “Did you get taller?”
“I think so,” he chuckles sheepishly. “It’s nice to see you too, Princess. Or should I say Chief?”
“Please, Chief is only for formal occasions. You can still call me Princess if you’d like, just y/n will do too.”
“I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,” Aang admits earnestly. “I wish I could have helped.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Aang. It was my decision to keep Koa a secret so that I wouldn’t pull you and Zuko away from your obligations. And everything turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”
“I suppose it did, and I’m glad you’re alright. The South seems to be doing pretty well,” he notes with a faint smile, enjoying the way your eyes seem to light up at the mention of your home.
“We’ve already accomplished so much in just a short amount of time! The outer tribes are beginning to grow in number and our people have been mingling with those from our sister tribe. Oh, Aang, you have to meet my students! They’ve only been practicing for a few months but some of them have already passed the beginning level and-”
“That all sounds amazing, y/n,” the Avatar admits with a weak smile. However, his strong front doesn’t fool you in the slightest, and you immediately are able to detect that something is wrong, “but I didn’t come here for a friendly visit. There’s... There’s something we need to talk about. It’s about Zuko.”
He doesn’t miss the look that flashes briefly in your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, and though he can tell how anxious you are Aang admires your ability to remain poised and collected in front of your students.
“Let’s talk in my office,” you utter quietly, and after dismissing the children for the day you and Aang are quick to head inside for a private discussion about the matters at hand.
“I’m so sorry to have to barge in on you like this when you already have so much on your plate but I didn’t have a choice,” Aang explains gently.
“What’s going on Aang?” You ask uneasily, and the worried look on your face doesn’t make things any easier for him. After all you’ve done for him and your friends, he doesn’t have the heart to break yours.
“The night the Harmony Restoration Movement was announced I made two promises to Zuko. I promised him that if things began to get out of hand and history began to repeat itself, I would end his life before he could have the chance to become like his father. The world needs peace and balance, and we can’t have anyone jeopardizing that. You know I’m just a peaceful monk, I couldn’t even kill Ozai, but Zuko is my friend and it meant so much to him that I had no choice but to agree.”
“And the second promise?” You murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the information given to you. Horror and panic flash across your features and you feel nauseous, you feel as if you can’t breathe and the walls are closing in all around you, and a newfound sense of desperation washes over you.
“The second promise was not to tell you. Zuko knew that if you found out you’d delay your return home to try and talk him out of it, and his mind had already been up. He didn’t want to worry you-”
“Why are you telling me this now, Aang? What’s changed?” You interrupt, though you fear you already know the answer. The Avatar refuses to meet your gaze.
“Zuko has withdrawn from the Harmony Restoration Movement and refuses to compromise. If things don’t work themselves out soon I might have to fulfill my promise...”
The room is heavy with tension and deathly silent as you process the news Aang has given you. It doesn’t sound like Zuko at all, and this promise doesn’t sound like Aang either.
“Aang, you’re my friend and I love you. But if you choose to fulfill this promise of yours I’ll never be able to forgive you.”
“Trust me, y/n, I don’t want it to come to that. That’s why I’m here,” he says earnestly. “I’m telling you all of this because I want you to talk to Zuko. You’re the only person he’ll listen to, so maybe you can get through to him and this whole mess can be resolved.”
“Where is Zuko now?”
“The last I heard he’d locked himself away in the palace back at the Fire Nation.”
“Spirits, so much for an honest relationship,” you grumble quietly to yourself. A small, defeated sigh escapes you and you nod. “Alright. Let me get my affairs in order and then I’ll go talk to Zuko.”
“Thank you so much, Princess. I know how hard all of this must be for you, and I wish there was another way but-”
“It isn’t your fault, Aang. At least not entirely. You only did what Zuko asked you to in respect of your friendship, and now in respect of our friendship I ask that you allow me to sway him in the right direction before any decisions are made.”
“Yes, of course,” he nods earnestly, and sensing that you need a moment to yourself, the Avatar excuses himself. “I’ll go make sure Appa is ready for the trip. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding leaves you the moment the door shuts behind Aang, and it takes all of your will power to keep your rising tears at bay. To think that Zuko had gone to the extreme to reassure himself of the fact that he’d never repeat his family’s footsteps broke your heart; Zuko was nowhere close to being the cruel man Ozai had been, and you thought he was past this by now. You were worried about him and how he must be feeling, but you also felt it to be unfair of him to keep such a thing from you. He had been so distraught when he had learned about Koa and after that you had both sworn to tell each other everything no matter what, yet now it seemed Zuko had no intention of keeping that promise to you. Promise. It seemed like such a heavily loaded word now, and you were beginning to resent it entirely. You couldn’t wait another minute, you had to see Zuko.
It takes you no longer than an hour to get your affairs in order— Hakoda and your mother are left in charge to oversee the tribe while you’re away, and Pakku is to continue lessons without your presence. You pack your bag and join Aang on Appa’s saddle, and with the quick utterance of the phrase yip yip the two of you are riding high into the skies and making your way towards the Fire Nation.
The wind blowing through your hair is a bittersweet reminder of your days fighting the war alongside your friends; you had once believed that things would be simpler after the Fire Nation’s defeat, but so far nothing had seemed to be any easier than you had hoped it would be. You wished they were here now, you could really use some reassurance from Sokka or Suki, and you know Katara would probably have just the right thing to say to ease your nerves. Instead, the ride is silent and tense as you journey to see Zuko.
In the throne room sits the Fire Lord, tense and distracted by the millions of thoughts that whiz by in his head. He knew he was making the right decision by allowing his people to remain in Yu Dao, he was their ruler and it was his duty to look after their best interests, and backing out from the Harmony Restoration Movement would prevent the disruption of the peaceful lives they’d created for themselves there. Seeing the Mayor’s family, their daughter born of both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom heritage, it allowed him to see his own future, one in which he selfishly realized what the movement would mean not only for his people but for himself.
Your portrait sits in his lap, face poised and stoic yet with a hint of a smile on your face, and it is this portrait that brings him solace and comfort during his time of turmoil. He’d purchased the photo from a vendor back in the South during the celebration of your coronation, and looking at it now he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Everything had become such a mess and all he wanted was your comfort; you were busy rebuilding a tribe, and after Zuko had made such a fuss about maintaining honesty between you two he felt foolish to try and tell you now. Surely you’d leave him for it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand that heartache. Not again.
A knock on the door rips his attention away from your portrait and an immediate scowl forms on his features. He’d made it specifically clear that he didn’t want any visitors and was to be left undisturbed. Where were the Kyoshi Warriors to keep away the arrivals?
“I will see no one,” Zuko bellows, shoulders tensing when the door slowly begins to open despite his proclamation. However, when his eyes take in the sight of his beloved the Fire Lord does a double take before immediately relaxing at the presence of his Princess.
“Will the Fire Lord make an exception for me?” You ask with a meek smile, carefully shutting the doors behind you
“Y/n!” Zuko exclaims before scrambling out of his seat and rushing towards you. You can’t help the delighted laugh that leaves you when Zuko lifts your figure off the ground and holds you impossibly close to his chest. Tears well in his eyes as he nestles his face into your shoulder and breathes in the scent of fire lilies and snow.
“It’s nice to know you’ve missed me,” you giggle softly, though your smile fades once Zuko sets you back on the ground and you’re able to see his face. Carefully you rest a hand upon his face, Zuko immediately melting into your touch. “My love, you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”
“How can you tell?” Zuko asks with quiet surprise.
“I can see the restlessness and turmoil in your eyes. You’re troubled.”
“That’s an understatement,” he scoffs quietly. You frown.
“What’s going on with you, Zuko? Aang told me you backed out of the Harmony Restoration Movement.”
“Is that why you’re here?” The Fire Lord replies, a harsh edge suddenly coating his tone. “Just to talk me back into it??”
“I’m here because I’m worried about my boyfriend,” you emphasize, and you don’t miss the look of guilt that flash’s across Zuko’s face for snapping at you. Quieter now, “Aang told me about the promise he made to you. I want to hear your side of the story, and I want to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t go that far.”
Zuko is silent for a moment, and after a beat passes he nods. No more secrets, it’s time to tell you everything.
You end up in the palace gardens by the pond, loaves of bread in your hands as you enjoy the breeze and feed the turtle ducks. The Kyoshi Warriors stand in the distance to guard you both, and Suki gives you a quiet nod when your eyes meet across the way. You wanted to give Zuko a comforting atmosphere where he could feel safe to talk, the tone of the throne room was a bit too intense for the both of you, and after recalling stories he had told you of his mother you figured this was the perfect spot to do so. It takes him time to gather his thoughts and process his emotions, but you wait patiently until he’s ready.
“I want to start by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew you’d worry and drop everything to try and talk me out of something I’d already decided, and I didn’t want to take you away from your people, not again,” Zuko explains quietly. “But my family, selfishness and destruction runs in our blood, and I needed to make sure that I’d never make the same mistakes they did.”
“Zuko,” you utter gently, your hand coming to rest upon his bicep, “you are nothing like your father or your grandfather. You’re a good person, you’ve already proven this time and time again. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve also made changes, good changes.”
“I can’t make any more mistakes, y/n. That’s why Aang is there to stop me. But backing out of the Harmony Restoration Movement is not a mistake.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?” You repeat in bewilderment. “I-I don’t understand.”
“I had the chance to visit Yu Dao and see what my people had created, the life they spent generations building for themselves. As Fire Lord it’s my job to make sure my people are happy, and they are happy— coinciding with earth kingdom citizens. You should have seen it, y/n. Best friends, business partners, families made up of two different nations. I know Aang believes there can’t be any harmony unless the four nations are separate, but Yu Dao proves that that’s not true, and so do we.”
“The mayor’s wife of Yu Dao invited me to stay with them, her an earth bender and her husband a fire bender. They had a daughter and together they were a beautiful family. And do you know what I saw when I was with them?”
“What did you see?” You ask quietly, your eyes welling with tears as you hang onto Zuko’s every word.
“I saw us. I saw you cradling a baby in your arms while you sat in the gardens and watched the older children play. It was peaceful, and even though the odds have always been against us it didn’t matter that the mother of our children was of the Water Tribe and the father was of the Fire nation. All that mattered in that moment was our family. A family that can’t exist if we keep the four nations separate,” Zuko emphasizes desperately. “If it’s selfish of me to base my decision on my own desires then I’ll take the hit, but I’d rather die than ever have to be kept away from you simply because we’re different.”
Zuko’s eyes have grown wide and his shoulders rise and fall with each anxious breath he takes as he gauges your reaction. You’re silent for a long while, your own gaze settled upon the pond as you watch the mother turtle duck look after her ducklings. You wanted to be a mother some day, and you’d be lying if you said you could picture yourself being with anyone other than Zuko. He was it for you, the only person you’d ever want to be with, and no one had any right to tell you otherwise.
“Zuko,” you say quietly, lifting your gaze to stare into his golden irises, “you’re absolutely right.”
“I-I am?” He splutters in response, surprised at the fact that he’s truly in the right for once. He’s always relied on you as a moral compass, so to hear that you agree with him is a weight lifted off of his shoulders.
“You are,” you reaffirm. “How can you have peace if everyone is expected to keep to themselves? That’s not harmony at all. It’s isolating and it’s lonely and it’s sad. Those families shouldn’t be separated, and you need to do whatever you can to keep them together.”
“I will,” Zuko nods quickly. “Will you help me?”
“I’m on your side Zuko, but I can’t fight my friends,” you lament gently. “I’ll try to reason with Aang, and if it comes down to it I’ll stop him from fulfilling his promise to you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to remain neutral.”
“I understand,” he murmurs gently. He takes your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for hearing my side and having my back.”
“I always will, Zuko. You’ll never have to worry about that,” you reply, smiling as he pulls you into a tight hug. Despite the conflict going on between your boyfriend and your friends, you have a feeling that everything is going to work itself out. It has to. It must.
Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader
CW: Language, prejudice against MB, blood/injury, sexism
A/N: as always, unbeta'd
【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】
Chapter 26: Human Anatomy
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May 4th, 1976
Following the Mary incident, there were two Death Eater attacks in Birmingham plastered all over the Daily prophet now clutched in everyone’s hand. Y/N watched from the sidelines as Lily gripped her copy so strongly that it began to tear where her fingernails were.
Distantly, she could hear Marlene and Dorcas attempting to distract them by fighting over the last Chocolate Frog. Y/N ignored them, her mood dampened from the news and played with her food idly. That was until she felt Sirius nudge her underneath the table, quietly placing the now stolen Chocolate Frog into her hand.
It was clear that she and Sirius reached a standstill. Ever since his outburst, he hadn’t been avoiding her — they still snuck around — but his witty and snarky comments were gone. He’d become more reclusive, shy, even, and couldn’t keep eye contact for too long. A few times, she even caught him entertaining other women and it caused her to stiffen up, laugh bitterly and chip away at any logic, reason — manifesting in irritation and resentment.
It was clear that she and Sirius reached a standstill. Ever since his outburst, he hadn’t been avoiding her — they still snuck around — but his witty and snarky comments were gone. He’d become more reclusive, shy, even, and couldn’t keep eye contact for too long. A few times, she even caught him entertaining other women and it caused her to stiffen up, laugh bitterly and chip away at any logic, reason — manifesting in irritation and resentment.
It was a game of cat and mouse and Y/N was the cat. So the gesture was surprising. She took it from him, smiling as she ripped open the package and split it into two, giving him the larger half. He gave a reticent smirk and went back to his desert.
Sirius Black was confusing.
She saw Remus had put down his copy of the prophet, who pressed his lips together to hide his amusement as he looked between the two. His brow rose; she looked anywhere but him.
It was nearing the end of dinner when James finally joined, just coming from his career consultation. He went over to Ravenclaw’s table first, talking admittedly with Emmeline before making his way over. He was uncharacteristically nervous as he sat down beside Y/N.
“Saved you a plate,” Peter greeted. A large plate of spaghetti hovered in front of him. Normally James would’ve dug in within seconds, but instead prodded at a meatball with his fork. Everyone noticed but ignored it.
“What took you so long?”
Sirius grinned. “I bet McGonagall was listing off the Quidditch teams that want him. Which one is it? Appleby? Puddlemere?”
“I call Ballycastle,” Marlene warned, “I want their spot!”
James remained quiet.
“Don’t tell us you’re going to live off your trust fund,” teased Remus, but it had a questioning tone.
James’s gaze flittered to Lily’s paper before he spoke.“They all reached out.”
Everyone gave a loud round of applause and cheers; Y/N ruffled his hair while Peter conjured one of the floating candles to explode into confetti.
“That’s amazing! Congratulations, Prongs! You deserve —” “I’m turning them down, for now.”
Everyone went still, smiles fading and utensils dropping.
Remus was the first to speak. His eyes glossed cautiously around the table before leaning in. “Want to go somewhere a little more private? To talk?”
James took a deep inhale, peering over to Mary’s empty seat. Still shaken up, Mary had been hiding away in her dorm. As Marlene liked to say, she was pulling a sickie, and nobody could blame her. Then James’ eyes strayed towards Y/N.
“I told McGonagall that I’m enlisting once school’s done.”
Peter placed a tentative hand on him, “What did you say?”
“Er… after everything that’s happened…” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been thinking… I don’t want to live in a world where the people I care about are judged — innocent people are being… slaughtered... I can’t — I can’t just sit here and let it happen! And the war won’t end — not unless people are there to fight.”
Lily ripped her newspaper as she snapped, “This isn’t the time for jokes, Potter. You can’t just say that and —”
“I’m not joking,” James states calmly yet firmly. “Quidditch can wait until the wizarding world is safe.”
Nobody spoke until Dumbledore dismissed dinner.
“I said the same to McGonagall,” Sirius added. Everyone’s head whipped towards him.
“Is this a sick plan you two haven’t told me about?” Remus scolded. His voice was laced in something Y/N couldn’t place but teetered on the edge of indignation.
Sirius shook his head. “No. Never mentioned it to him. It’s just… I want to fight people like… my… family.”
The phrase echoed in her head: my family… What did that mean?
“Then that’s what I’ll do too.” Marlene states.
Dorcas whipped her head towards her. “No, you won’t.”
“Potter’s got a point,” Marlene says. “What good will my influence — power and position I’ve got as a Pureblood do if I don’t put it to use? Besides, my brothers have all enlisted already. They help with the Ministry and Dumbledore.”
Y/N and Lily stayed quiet, both shared a look — the first time either made direct eye contact since their fight. It communicated worry and pure dread.
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May 14, 1976
“You pincushion. You’re going to break if you aren’t careful!” She’d been waiting outside the hospital wing for Remus who hobbled his way out with a pink flush.
The Marauders and girls were taking ‘partnering up’ seriously. The Marauders escorted any Muggleborns around the castle at night; James, Peter and Sirius using their blood status while Remus used his height and prefect title as leverage. Even Marlene made sure every first or second year was escorted safely too.
In particular, ever since the mention of enlisting and Mary’s attack, James and Sirius were ruthless — merciless to anyone that showed even the slightest allegiance to the other side. More hexes, jinxs and pranks ensued.
Remus tilted his head as his body shook with quiet laughter. “Just a tumble.”
“Clumsy giant.”
He ignored her, going to take her bag off her shoulder to carry.
“Now you’ve lost it — give it.”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, going to dangle the bag so she wouldn’t be able to take it. But Remus staggered forward a bit, having to stop walking and balance himself out. Y/N noticed, sighing as she linked her arm with Remus’, letting him lean against her for support as they walked.
He did seem peaky, she worried, he waved it off. The Marauders did say he’s ill…
“Are we picking up Butterbeer?”
“Mary and Marlene are getting it.”
“Oh… Mary… How is she?”
Y/N sighed as they turned and left through a secret passageway and into the yard. Today was the last Quidditch game of the year. “I’m not sure… we’re not exactly close and Marlene refuses to spill.”
“I’m glad she’s… okay — out and about. What about you?”
“Me?” She turned to Remus.
“No one has tried to hurt you, have they?”
“Nope.” Best to lie.
Remus loosen up at that. His head tilted to hear her clearer, body hunched over as if he’s trying to get closer.
His soft messy curls were strewn messily around like he just rolled out of bed. “Do tell if someone does. I know you can defend yourself but we all need to be there for each other.”
“Of course. You too?” He hummed.
The hot sun beat down against them as sweat began to form on her forehead. Remus wore a light sweater — just by looking at him, he made her feel uncomfortably warm.
“You’re not hot?” Y/N asked.
He dropped his head a bit and a sudden far-away look filled his eyes. “Erm — not really. I just prefer it.”
She instantly felt bad from his reaction. “Well, at least you look dashing.”
He nodded, smiling before making grabby hands. Y/N glanced sideways, already fishing out her cassette player from her pocket.
“All you do is use me for this thing.” “Hush.”
They walked together down the path, arm in arm, over bumps and dips. Both laughing at the other before Y/N noticed a fairly large ball of black trailing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was as tall as Flitwick and as long as Marlene’s broom.
Y/N felt herself stop, pulling away from Remus who was about to open his mouth. A rush of excitement filled her. “Is that a dog?!” She already let go of Remus, motioning him over as she dashed off into its direction.
The dog must’ve heard her footsteps before she came to a stop in front of it. Now, slowly walking up, her hand stuck out and waited for the dog to approach.
“Hi there, buddy!” She smiled largely as the dog sniffed her. There was the slightest hesitation before its head rubbed against her hand, moving happily as its tail wagged. Its head bowed, presenting its neck as a sign of submission. It even nudged her. She rubbed the side of the dog’s body. Its fur was shaggy, matted with a bit of dirt which had her nose wrinkled.
Remus eventually appears, watching them but once the dog notices him, it goes rigid, pulling away from Y/N, even going as far to growl at her. Although it’s weak, she still rips her hands away as the dog keeps its gaze on Remus.
“No! Please come back?”
The dog stopped growling, letting her pet him again but bared its teeth to Remus. Remus doesn’t seem to care as he watches the scene intently, a smirk crosses.
“I didn’t know Hogwarts had a dog!” Y/N scratches behind its ears. “You must be Kettleburn’s, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, he’s been around,” said Remus.
“Oh yeah? You seem like such a good boy!” Y/N then stands, picking up a stick before waving it, throwing it far. The dog bolts to retrieve it. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a dog?”
“I’m more of a cat person.”
The dog comes dashing back, stick in mouth as it runs circles around her. She goes to bend down, fingers gliding through its matted fur before getting caught. “You’re kind of disgusting.”
The dog looks at her, its eyes adjusting to open wider while Remus bursts out laughing. Y/N glances at him, questioning his unusual behaviour before reaching to grab the stick from its mouth. She transfigured it into a dog brush and went to work.
"... Kettleburn has really been neglecting you."
Remus’ hands go up to wipe his happy tears before dropping down to sit beside her. She can even feel his body shake with laughter. “You sure you don’t want to leave this mutt be?”
The dog growls at him, Y/N giggles.
“I don’t think he likes you much.”
His face level with the dog. “Don’t like him either.” The dog barks and Remus practically howls.
“So…” he has a sly smirk that tells her he’s up to no good. The light catches onto his eyes, glinting with golden specs like they were infused in him. “You and Padfoot have been chummy lately.”
The wagging tail halts and Y/N stops combing as they both stare at him. The dog pulls away from her grasp and growls at Remus. This time, it’s guttural and deep, sounding like a warning and losing its playful tone.
“I — ugh —” She falters, mentally slapping herself. “We’ve been getting along since Oats. Studying, spending time together… I got tired of fighting.”
“Mmm, I bet.” His voice is condescending. “I heard you want to be a Healer.”
“Yeah?”
“Say then, do you guys study —” The dog goes and bites down on his jeans, tugging harshly, drawing her attention but Remus continues to study her.
“Look at me, not at him,’” he says cockily. He leans in a challenging manner that has her flustered. He repeats, “Do you guys study… I don’t know… human anatomy?”
The dog barks madly — so loud that they’re getting stares from passing students. Y/N swore she could’ve died there while Remus bellows with laughter: his question answered. She bolted up, remaining silent and marched away from him who hobbled behind her, yelling out false apologies.
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Gryffindor, unsurprisingly, had another amazing win against Ravenclaw. James had improved as Captain drastically — confident with his position and team. Marlene improved too, she was almost as fast as the Snitch itself and never let a single Bludger slip past her while James scored goal after goal.
She and Remus still stuck by each other, walking down the rickety wooden stands as they observed the sea of red robes swarming the pitch. James pulled Emmeline into a kiss before he was holstered up by the Gryffindor team. Sirius was cheering him on while Peter was missing, having to leave right after the match for detention.
James then glanced back, along with Marlene, who waved while the two students grinned widely, sticking their thumbs up, fist-pumping in the air as a sign of congratulations.
But it wasn’t long until trouble came their way. Y/N wasn’t sure how Remus knew, but he suddenly went mute, his head perked up and swivelled around. In a fluid motion, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her flush against him; his hand wrapped around her protectively as he shifted his body to cover her and then bucked down; just before a Bludger came barreling their way.
Remus whipped his wand out, pointing at the Bludger that was hurling back, turning it into a balloon.
“The fuck?” Remus breathed out.
From where they stood, they were obscured by the shadows and wooden stands. The crowd couldn’t see them and the Gryffindor team was too occupied to notice. Cackling sounded from one of the exits. It was Crabble, Snape and two other Slytherin’s she didn’t know the names of.
“How cute! Ickle Lupin protecting his Muggle bitch!” Crabble said, flashing a dark smile.
“What did you call me!” Y/N shrieked, still in Remus’ hold before he finally let go.
“Watch what you’re saying,” Remus cautioned, voice dropping low. He stood tall as waves of authority emitted from him while he held his wand tightly, stepping in front of her. His broad shoulders squared. “Thirty points from Slytherin. You don’t want detention, do you?”
“That’s all you got? House points?” Snape taunted. “Loopy Lupin — acting tough in front of his girl.”
“Heard she’s fucking Potter,” the Slytherin said. He had blue eyes and dirty-blond hair.
“I heard differently,” the other nameless Slytherin blurted. He licked his lips in a snake-like motion. “Have you seen the way she and Black are around each other so much now? A Mudblood and a whore!”
She drew her wand.
“Aw, trembling itty, bitty baby!”
“That’s enough, Barty,” drawled Snape. Barty held his wand, toying with it before he lifted his wand, ready to cast a spell.
“Expelliarmus!” Remus shouted at him. Barty’s wand flew from his grasp but wasn’t lucky before the unnamed boy shouted, “Levicorpus!”
Instantly, Remus was grabbed by the ankle, hauled up into the air. Y/N saw him wince, all his belongings thudding to the grass.
“Aw, Rosier,” Snape said coolly. He took a few steps in a twitchy manner, “Stop playing with the poor mutt!”
But before the Slytherins had an opportunity, Y/N shot a spell at Remus, floating him down gently while Snape and Crabble directed a spell at her.
“Protego!” She cried as an invisible shield expanded between her, Remus and the Slytherins. The barrier was so powerful that they all stumbled as Remus went to retrieve his wand.
“Lupin can’t even protect himself! You had to let a girl do it too!” Crabble shouted.
“A Mudblood and a Half-breed! A match made in heaven.”
Angrily, Remus stood, a black ball of light shot out from the tip of his wand at the feet of the Slytherins. A small boom rumbled the ground, sparks of fire emitting but not enough to start a fire. They jumped back and Snape threw another spell.
“Ad sectis!”
Y/N barely had time to block it as a gust of wind knocked them back. It wasn’t a spell she knew of. Remus sent another hex at them but was blocked.
“Dangerous bloke, that Loopy Lupin,” Snape jeered, directing his words at Y/N while the Slytherins laughed. “You ought to be careful who you run around with. Let alone your boyfriend.”
“Shut up!” Remus shouted. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Where do you think he goes every month?” Snape taunted before backing up from them, rejoining the other Slytherins who left, all bellowing, “AHH-WOOOO!”
The reverberation from Remus’ spell drew the Marauder’s attention as they arrived. James saw them, marching up side by side with Emmeline and Sirius. He wore a large smile as he pressed several kisses to the side of Emmeline’s head. “Whiskers! Moony! Did you see that score!”
Remus and Y/N breathed in deeply, dazed and shocked. Remus stumbled over but she clutched his arm to keep him upright.
“Don’t listen to anything they said,” implored Remus.
Y/N’s eye travelled to a large slash that travelled up Remus’ jaw and leg, blood seeping out at an alarming rate but the cut was shallow. Y/N in turn only then realized the damp liquid was now travelling down her arm. Her arm was also slashed, not deep, but the amount of blood was concerning.
All their voices began chatting over the other as the girls arrived by now; Dorcas rushed up to Y/N, prying Remus off of her as James and Sirius took Remus and sat them on a nearby bench.
“— happened?”
“— Y/N — Remus —”
“Lift your leg —”
“— get to the wing —”
“Merlin’s beard!” Lily shouted. “Give them some space!” Her eyes were on Remus but shifted to Y/N. Hesitantly, Lily walked up to her and bent down in front of her but still kept her distance.
“Okay, we need to get you patched up.” James stood, looping an arm around Remus and stood up.
Marlene rubbed her shoulder while Lily spoke, both James and Sirius doing the same for Remus. “Would you like us to come?”
She shook her head as the girls reluctantly left, but clutched Lily’s wrist as she stood. In a small voice, she asked, “Stay?”
Lily nodded her head and bid her goodbyes with the girls.
“Right, okay. I’ll see you later?” James said to Emmeline who pressed another quick peck to her cheek. Instead of the hospital wing, Remus asked, and was very adamant, about being brought to his dorm where they hauled in Y/N and Lily.
Sirius managed to get the bleeding to stop and worked on Remus before going to patch up Y/N who sat in James’ bed. The curtains were drawn just close enough for them not to be seen while Lily and James feverishly spoke to Remus.
“Ah!” She hissed as Sirius wrapped her arm carefully. Her free hand went to grip on his arm and he looked up at her apologetically.
“M’sorry — and we’re done.” Sirius tosses a quick smile, “You did amazing.” Sirius placed his material to the side and went to hold her hand gently. “What happened? Don’t you dare tell me a lie because this is serious.”
“I thought you were Sirius.” That joke never got old
Sirius broke out into a grin before it quickly vanished again. “Who did this?” He urged voice hardening yet kind. “Please, trust me.”
And she did.
Y/N reluctantly retold the story. Sirius went stiff. She grabbed his arm to bring his attention back to her. “Don’t do something that’ll make it worse. Don't you dare go looking for revenge. Promise me.”
He nodded his head but looked conflicted. At the same time, James pulled back the curtains; Y/N ripped away.
She looked around the room. “Where’s Lily?” “I told her to leave,” Remus cuts in. “I didn’t think that she would’ve liked to hear about the Snape part.”
Her eyes locked with James who wore the same expression as Sirius; he knew. And so she repeated herself, enunciating every word to the boys. “Don't. You. Dare go looking for revenge.”
Hello Mah, forgive me for coming to ask for another prompt, I should control myself more, but I was reading ''Fate'' when I came across with this part ''Harry will have a full plate with these two someday.''
And I thought that if you haven't written that, make Harry complain to James and Sirius or Lily, idk, over the Easter break, about how Hermione and Ron are fighting, and maybe, just if you want, there is no Voldemort? Just to see the Golden Trio even more as teenagers, as they should be. But if you want to put Voldemort to give that dramatic touch of yours, it's okay too, you decide :)
and if you don't want to write that, that's fine too <3
Hiiiiii, Sweet! <3 please send all the asks you want!
I loved this prompt so much that I couldn’t help myself. So please enjoy this family moment between Harry, his parents and Sirius as they discuss Ron and Hermione’s possible relationship, during the Easter Break of Harry’s Fourth Year (for curiosity, in this universe, Ron and Hermione begin dating the start of their Fifth Year - and one day I’ll finish a WIP about Hinny’s relationship in the same universe)
Oh, and I know you asked for the Golden Trio being teenagers, but, really, here the parents are the teenagers:
Harry looks at the letter Errol just dropped with a heavy sigh that’s muffled by the sound of the owl hitting the glass of the window instead of flying away.
‘Rest before you go back’, Harry says, picking up the owl carefully (Errol blinks in thanks) and taking it downstairs to the tree next to the window of the kitchen that stands as their owlery. His parents are there, with Sirius, finishing their breakfast.
‘Morning’, Harry says distractedly, helping to place Errol in a branch of the tree, next to a sleepy Hedwig.
‘Come take your breakfast, Harry’, his mother tells him. Harry sits, yawning.
‘What’s with the grumpy face?’, Sirius asks, watching him.
‘I woke up early. Hermione sent me a letter - and when I was almost sleeping again, Errol came with another’.
‘Ron and Hermione are already writing?’, James asks, sounding amused. ‘You have been apart for only one day, you know that, right?’
Lily giggles. ‘Look who's talking. When was the last time you spent a day without seeing Sirius?’
‘Hey!’, James complains, while Harry laughs too. ‘If I don’t see him, how will I know he’s been feeding himself?’
‘Maybe trust he is a functional thirty-five-year-old guy?’
‘Hey, I am right here’, Sirius remembers.
‘Yeah, and you are eating breakfast in our place, which just proves my point’, James notes, smirking. He turns to Harry. ‘What’s so important they had to write to you on the first day of the holidays?’
‘Privacy, James?’, Lily says, amused. ‘Or you used to share the contents of your Marauder letters with your parents?’
‘I hope not’, Sirius intervenes. ‘He used to talk a lot about you in those letters - I am not sure Monty and Mia would have enjoyed reading so much about your very nice pair of -’
‘Hey, hey!’, Harry interrupts, raising his hands. ‘Kid alert here!’
‘Very nice pair of eyes, Harry’, Sirius says calmly. ‘Why did you think I would say?’
‘Oh, shut it’, Harry rolls his eyes, ignoring the redness around his neck. ‘And if you want to know, it’s no big deal, they don’t stop talking about it anyway. It’s about Viktor Bloody Krum’.
‘Harry -’
‘Sorry, Mom’, Harry adds hurriedly. ‘It’s just I don’t wanna ever hear about him again, really’.
‘What happened to all that admiration?’, James asks, surprised. ‘I thought you were cheering more for him than for the Hogwarts Champion’.
‘That was because…’, Harry’s voice drifts off, embarrassed. He doesn’t really want to talk about why Cedric Diggory annoys him lately. ‘Well, I don’t have any problem with Krum, but don’t say his name out loud near Ron and Hermione unless you want to hear them bickering’.
‘Oh, they are still in that phase?’, asks Lily, a grin playing on her lips that Harry doesn’t understand.
‘They always bicker, it’s just… I don’t get it, I thought Ron would actually be glad Hermione is friends with Krum, but all he does is complain’.
‘They are friends? Krum and Hermione’, his father asks, raising his eyebrows. Harry supposes that’s really an unlikely pair.
‘Well, friends, I don’t know - wait, I didn’t tell you? Hermione went with Krum to the Yule Ball’.
James and Sirius make a chorus of ‘ohhhh’, raising their eyebrows at the same time, and pull their chairs so they get closer to Harry.
‘You didn’t tell us!’, his father complains.
‘I didn’t think it was important’.
‘You really need to sort out your priorities, Harry’, Sirius says, somber. ‘That’s big news’.
‘Hermione and Krum?’, Harry asks doubtfully, then he grins. ‘Oh, wait until you hear everything then’.
And he tells them how Ron got upset with Hermione’s choice of date, accusing her of fraternizing with the enemy.
‘Wow’.
‘Nice phrasing’, Sirius agrees.
‘I should have used it when I found you snogging Anthony Travers’.
‘He was hot’.
‘He was a Slytherin!’
Lily rolls her eyes. ‘Grow up’, she mumbles, but they don’t seem to hear.
‘And at the end of the Yule Ball’, Harry adds, expecting for their reactions, ‘she told Ron that next time there was a ball, he should ask her before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’.
Sirius and James don’t disappoint him. ‘OOOOOOH’.
‘One point to Hermione!’
‘She definitely hit a nerve there’.
‘And then what happened?’, Sirius asks curiously. ‘The next day? What did they do?’
Harry shrugs. ‘Nothing, actually, they just pretended nothing happened’.
‘I will need to talk to Ron’, James says gravely; he looks at Lily. ‘If you told me something like that, I would be asking you out the very next minute’.
She gives him a loopsided grin that Harry is sure she learned with his father. ‘As if you would ever not ask me for any ball first’.
James grins, raising to kneel in front of her. ‘My dearest Lily, would you give me the pleasure of your company for all balls for the rest of your life?’
‘Oh, get a room you two’, Sirius says, rolling his eyes. ‘I am waiting to hear the rest of the story. Come on, Harry’.
But Harry is looking wistfully at his parents. ‘It must be so nice to ask someone out when you know she is going to accept it’.
James laughs. ‘Well, now it seems easy, but when I asked your mom, trust me, I was nothing but a nerve-wracking mess’.
‘He fainted’, Lily agrees, looking fondly at her husband.
‘It was not a faint! I just closed my eyes for a while -’
‘Harry’, Sirius interrupts out loud. ‘So if everything was ok, why are you receiving letters now?’
‘Oh’, Harry grins. ‘It’s because of the Second Task. The champions had to rescue the things they would miss the most - and for Krum, that was Hermione’.
‘That is so -’
‘Unexpected?’, Lily suggests. ‘Unbelievable exaggerated for someone you just went to a ball together?’
‘Romantic’, Sirius finishes, frowning at her. ‘What did James see in you, Evans?’
‘Potter’, she notes, smirking. ‘And from what you said, he was very fond of my pair of… eyes’.
‘Oh, stop you two’, James says, waving his hand as if they are two misbehaved kids. He glances at Harry. ‘I take Ron didn’t like it very much’.
‘No, he hated it. I mean, he was very worried with Hermione while she was underwater, though I told him Dumbledore wouldn’t really anything happen with any of the hostages… and then when she was safe, he got angry with her!’
‘Of course he did’, James agrees, eyes sparkling with laugh. Harry doesn’t see much humour in this story.
‘Well, now they keep arguing about Krum, about house-elves, about whoever Ron is talking to, about everything, and I am in the middle of it. Letters and all now’.
James exchanges a look with Lily. ‘We were never like that’.
‘No, we went from arguing to bantering and then snogging’.
‘It wasn’t arguing, I was just an arse and you didn’t take it quietly’, James says unabashed. ‘But I meant we never took pleasure in arguing just for the sake of it’.
‘I wish you had’, Sirius notes. ‘At least then I could shut you up with a spell’.
‘We were not that bad’, James says fairly. Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.
‘You two keep looking at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, both convinced the other didn’t like you back, while you both sighed all over the place, finding some stupid excuses to be near each other - I mean, come on, how many meetings could you have in our final year?’
‘I was Head Boy!’, James remembers.
‘See? The worst excuse ever to get near a girl’.
Harry blinks. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your parents’, Sirius says joyfully. ‘And comparing them with Ron and Hermione’.
‘What they have to do in common?’
‘Oh, Harry’, Sirius looks at him almost pityingly. ‘You see, when a boy likes a girl - or another boy, or when a girl likes a boy or a girl -’
‘You are just complicating everything, Padfoot’, Lily tells him brightly. ‘What he means is that there is something going on between Ron and Hermione’.
‘Yeah’, Harry agrees, his brows furrowed. ‘They are fighting’.
The other three laugh. Harry crosses his arms, annoyed.
‘But why are they fighting, Harry?’, his mother asks gently.
‘Because they are two stubborn people?’
‘But why now, why about Krum?’ When Harry shrugs, without answering, Lily shakes her head. ‘Oh, dear, you are as oblivious as your father’.
‘Hey!’
Lily places a soft kiss on James’ face before turning to Harry.
‘Ron is jealous of Hermione’, she explains patiently. ‘And Hermione wished Ron had asked her to the ball before. You see now?’
‘So Ron and Hermione… will become Ron and Hermione?’
‘I don’t know that’, Lily says. ‘Not every crush turns into something’.
‘Ours did’, James whispers, smugly.
‘And not every school romance lasts after school either’.
‘Seventeen years together’, James sings. Lily throws him a fond look.
‘And counting’, she agrees, offering her hand for him to take it.
Sirius rolls his eyes.
‘You see what I had to endure with these two? That will be you with Ron and Hermione’.
‘They like each other?’, Harry repeats, thinking, but now that they’ve said it, he supposes he couldn’t really be surprised.
All that bickering had to mean something - and beyond that, they were always close, always gravitating around each other. He supposes he should be glad they would move on that bickering phase, but if they did...
‘But - what if they get together? I will be a third wheel! Worse, what if they get together and then split up? We won’t be friends -’
‘You are overworrying, son’, James assures him. ‘You won’t stop being their friends no matter what happens’.
‘Yeah’, Lily mumbles. ‘Look at Sirius’.
‘What about me?’
‘James dating me and marrying me didn’t affect the relationship between Prongs and Padfoot’, she notes, ignoring Sirius’ wink at her. ‘So you will be fine with them’.
Sirius nods gravely. ‘There is only one rule you need to follow when your best friends are dating, Harry. Remember that and your life will be easier’.
‘What is that?’
Sirius grins. ‘Always knock on their doors before you enter any room they are in or else you will see them in positions you didn’t even know it was possible’.
And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twelve: And We All Fall Down
I know I say it every time, but thanks for all the support for this fic so far. It means a lot :)
As usual, you can find this fanfic in full on AO3 here.
And if you’re reading this for the first time, hello! This is a Chishiya x OC/female reader fic, and I hope you enjoy!
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That evening, I didn’t leave my room. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Niragi’s face, the glint in his eyes as he turned on me. The image flashed in my brain over and over until I felt sick. He would try to kill me out of revenge. That was a fact. And that night, I drifted in and out of sleep, trying to stay awake just in case he burst through the door to finish what he started.
But he never did.
And then there was the marks he’d left. When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I flinched back, seeing another girl’s face. The skin of my neck was purple and red, like splotched lily pads of bites, marks and bruises. My cheek was blue and cut from the way he’d backhanded me, and my ankle wasn’t much better.
If I left my room, people would stare. They would know. Some of them had seen me being dragged into Niragi’s room.
As the alcohol wore off, it became easier to realise how stupid I had been to get drunk enough that I could barely form proper sentences. The way he’d been pretending to listen… how he’d kept refilling my glass… even how he’d licked my cheek right before he had pulled me away from the bar. The scared faces in the hallways, they knew what was going to happen.
They pitied me.
And now, if I left my room, they would know.
The morning after the incident, I stayed holed up in my little cave, drinking water from the bathroom tap in a poor attempt at curing the intense hangover that was turning my mind into slush.
I didn’t have any knives or items I could use as a weapon, but I did manage to find a screwdriver that somebody had left in a drawer. It wasn’t exactly much protection against a rifle, but it was all I had.
But this wouldn’t last. I would have to face them eventually; my visa was due to expire. For now though, I passed the time by translating what I could of The Metamorphosis. The kanji seemed simple enough, but some of the clunky phrasing threw me off.
‘“気がかりな夢. That must mean anxious dreams.’ I followed the kanji closely with my fingertip. ‘But where’s the bit about the cockroach?’
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
I held my breath, clutching my screwdriver until my knuckles turned white.
There was another knock.
Oh god, this is it. I’m going to die.
And then the person called out. ‘It’s Kuina!’
The relief I felt was a cool breeze, washing over me. ‘Come in.’
The door opened and Kuina entered. She took a seat on the end of the bed, but she wasn’t smiling. Instead, she was looking at me in the same way my mother used to at times.
There must’ve been a full minute where neither of us spoke, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject.
Then at last, she said quietly. ‘Apparently Niragi’s been throwing a fit. Someone scratched his face… and I’ve heard some rumours.’
I tried to swallow against the lump in my throat. ‘What did you hear?’
‘People say they saw you drunk, that Niragi took you into his room.’ She paused, tentative. ‘Did he—’
‘No,’ I interrupted. I could feel my upper lip beginning to tremble. ‘I got away before he could. He was going to though. He said it was because of Chishiya. He wanted to… you know, get back at Chishiya. Not that he would care, anyway. We had an argument.’
It was that part that upset me more than I thought it would. The fact that no matter how many times he had helped me or saved my life, he wouldn’t give a damn about what Niragi did to me. If Niragi wanted to get back at him, he’d chosen the wrong method entirely.
‘Ah…’ Kuina tilted her head back. I could feel the questions just threatening to spill from her lips. She wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to ask.
I didn’t want to talk about it, or even think about it. ‘Can you see anything that mentions a cockroach in here?’ I pointed at the line of text I had been studying.
She seemed visibly confused by the sudden switch in subject, but she still walked across the room to peer at the book. ‘I can’t see anything that mentions a cockroach.’
I raised a brow. ‘That’s hard to believe. The cockroach is the main character.’
Kuina squinted, then nodded. ‘It says “匹の巨大な毒虫” instead’
‘What does that mean?’ I asked.
‘Giant poisonous insect.’
Snapping the book shoot, I tossed it onto the table. ‘I want words with whoever translated this,’ I said, laughing harder than necessary.
Kuina smiled awkwardly, unsure. I didn’t know what was so funny. There was nothing especially funny about the words. In fact, they were utterly devastating. I was devastated. Then I realised I wasn’t actually laughing at all. Kuina’s arm made its way around my shoulders, as her fingers brushed through my hair comfortingly. She didn’t speak, but just having her there was enough.
‘I’m sorry.’ I wiped at my face with my sleeve. ‘I just, I don’t know what to do. Or even how to react.’
She shrugged. ‘How you’re reacting is fine as it is. There’s no one way of going about it.’
‘Maybe,’ I said, sniffing. I probably looked a sight for sore eyes, and my hangover was still raging. ‘I’m scared of running into him, Niragi, I mean. And Chishiya too, I don’t want to see him.’
How I’d behaved back then was shameful, the way I’d snapped and screamed at him, even though he was stating things I already knew deep down were true. He had been right, but I hadn’t wanted to hear it. Yet despite that, I was still hurt. Right off the bat, he’d dismissed everything I felt, smiling as my anger only grew stronger. He had been in control of the entire conversation, and I’d walked right into his web.
Kuina played with her quit-smoking aide sheepishly. ‘Well, actually, I admit, I didn’t just come down here to see if the rumours were true. I also kind of need to speak to you about something… we both do.’
This was the last thing I wanted. Facing Chishiya again was bad enough after our argument, but now that I was covered in Niragi’s pawprints, it was much, much worse. ‘Kuina, I really don’t want to see him.’
She held up her hands, and bargained, ‘you don’t have to speak to him, or say anything at all. I’ll even talk to him for you. Just hear us out.’
The thought of seeing his smug face again sent dread through me. He’d probably take one look at these bruises and call me pathetic. I knew I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but I really did, even if I didn’t know why. But since it was Kuina who was asking, it was hard to refuse.
‘Fine.’ I nodded stiffly. ‘But I’m not speaking to him.’
--------------------------------------
The rooftop burned under the glare of the sun, the heat radiating through the soles of my shoes. I had to squint, as the brightness clashed with my awful hangover. Standing at the edge, looking down on the patio, Chishiya had his back to us. However, there was something off about his appearance that I couldn’t place at first. Everything about him seemed as normal, except it didn’t. He was wearing the white-grey hoodie that I had painstakingly washed and dried.
Is he trying to taunt me? I wondered.
But the thought flew out of my head as he turned around. When his gaze fell on me, his expression changed. It was one that I had never seen before, as his eyes narrowed, lips parting slightly. It was completely unreadable, and it lasted no more than a few seconds, before he looked away.
He doesn’t look too smug… unless the hoodie’s an apology? I dismissed the idea immediately. I can’t see him doing that.
He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. ‘Before you storm off again, there’s something you probably want in on.’
I glanced at Kuina, and she nodded reassuringly.
‘We’re leaving the Beach,’ Chishiya said.
My stomach fell. Was I was hearing this right? He couldn’t leave, neither of them could. It would only end in disaster. And Kuina… she was my only friend here. What would I do without her?
‘Things are getting tense between Hatter and the militant faction.’ He continued. ‘It’s only a matter of time before Hatter dies and this place turns to chaos. That’s why we plan on stealing the cards and leaving before that happens.’
What?
My head spun and Kuina’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, steadying me. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ she said, ‘but we’re telling you this for a reason. We want your help… and we also want you to come with us.’
‘We’?
I swallowed, my eyes darting to Chishiya. He was finally looking at me. But it was strange. His expression was unusually guarded, suddenly more serious than I had ever seen it before. I couldn’t see any of his usual slyness, nothing to suggest he was telling something other than the truth.
‘We’d be killed immediately,’ I whispered to Kuina. ‘If something goes wrong, they’ll shoot us on the spot.’
She smiled bitterly. ‘With Hatter gone, we’ll be killed anyway.’
‘Niragi approached you before the Two of Spades game, didn’t he?’ Chishiya said. ‘I’m sure it was about me. As was this.’ His catlike gaze brushed over my skin.
He wasn’t wrong. Niragi had his eye on Chishiya, and given the slightest opportunity, he wouldn’t hesitate to have him captured, tortured and eventually shot. And after yesterday, I had a target on my back too.
I have nothing to lose.
‘Okay,’ I said, at last. ‘I’ll go with you. But first you need to let me know what the plan is.’ Stubborn as ever, I directed my words at Kuina. I still wasn’t prepared to deal with Chishiya just yet.
He seemed to notice this as he stepped away from the roof edge and walked to the door. He kept his head down as he passed, avoiding all contact with me. ‘You’ll have to talk her through the details. I’ve got something I need to do.’
And with that, he left us alone on the rooftop.
---------------------------------------------
Kuina and I must’ve spent at least an hour up there, sitting and watching the other residents flirt, drink and splash around in the pool below. She walked me through the basis of their plan. It wasn’t complex or particularly detailed. Once Hatter had been murdered, the militants would likely force the other executives to put Aguni in charge, at which point there would be a speech with all the Beach members to announce Hatter’s death. The speech would keep the militant faction distracted, and we’d use the opportunity to break into Hatter’s room and steal the cards from the safe. Chishiya had assured Kuina that he knew what the code was. How he knew was still a mystery.
It would be dangerous, but I wasn’t worried for myself. I was worried for Kuina, and dare I say it, Chishiya too. Even though he made me so mad and so hurt, I didn’t actually want anything bad to happen to him. It was hard to admit, but I actually cared. Perhaps more than I wanted to.
What a shame he doesn’t return the favour, I thought glumly, as I made my way back to my room after parting with Kuina.
The Hunting Season game had only given me a two-day visa, meaning mine was due to expire tonight, and knowing how nervous I was, Kuina had promised me she’d meet me down in the lobby.
Let’s hope I’m not put in a group with Niragi.
When I opened the door to my room, it took me a moment to realise that something was off. The air felt different, like someone had been in here.
And then I saw it. On a chair by the window was a stack of books, and as I approached them, a heaviness inside my heart lifted. The first book was an intermediate Japanese language textbook, seconded by an English-Japanese dictionary. The third was the battered, well-read copy of Wuthering Heights. But that wasn’t all. Tucked beside them on the chair was the Walkman-turned-taser that I had last seen in the Tag game. It had a small post-it note stuck to the top.
“For Niragi, next time.”
I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I clutched the taser. With the edge of my sleeve, I wiped away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I wasn’t sure why I was crying, whether it was the shock of Niragi’s attack finally catching up to me, or the knowledge that Chishiya actually did care, even if just a little bit. It was a small gesture, his coming into my room and leaving these items, but it meant the world.
Part of me wanted to go and find him, ask him about it, and even thank him. But I didn’t get a chance, as the announcement for the games sounded throughout the hotel.
