Familiar Stranger.
wherein Blade does not recognise you, even though he should.
Blade’s intense gaze upon you is full of heat, tempered gentleness…and confusion where there ought to be achingly fond affection.
“Who…are you?”
Those aren’t the words you expected to hear from your lover. Your soulmate. The one you’ve shared countless sweet memories with. Then again, ever since arriving in this strange realm, everything has felt like a hazy dream. Like wading through dense fog.
How did you even get here? Last thing you remember is ambling through the bustling evening streets of this unfamiliar city, the twinkling billboards occasionally flashing Welcome to Iia. The buildings, vibrant even in the setting sun, were smattered with posters of people smiling and cuddling strange creatures you’d never seen before.
And there atop an atrium, one of the biggest billboards of all, had been Blade, posing as though he wasn’t one of the universe’s most wanted criminals. Wearing a crisp and smart black suit and holding a sleek pair of sunglasses in one hand, his smouldering gaze oozed sheer power as he sat authoritatively in that shot.
And then you’d begun to run, weaving through alleys and narrowly dodging some of the creatures you’d seen in the posters, hoarsely calling out Blade’s name. If this were a dream, then finding him should be the awakening. Find him, like you always do, and everything would be all right. The fog would clear (or is the fog only in your head?), you’d be off this planet, and you’d be in his arms.
And you’d found him, because Blade always wants to be found by you. He was there, at the end of the lane you’d dashed through. Undoubtedly Blade, from his crimson eyes to his indifferent crossed arms to his long navy blue hair blowing gently in the wind. But he’d recoiled in surprise before you could reach out for his hand. And now he’s frowning at you.
He’s acting like a stranger.
“I—I don’t understand,” you stammer, taking a step back. He’s never looked at you with such blankness before. “Bladie…? Is this a joke?”
His frown deepens, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. “Do not call me that like you know me personally.” His voice is dangerously gentle, like he’s reining in the bubbling magma of his ire only because you look so pathetically helpless.
“But I do know you!” you exclaim, louder than you’d wanted, and you try to calm yourself. Don’t be ballistic. “You’re Stellaron Hunter Blade, birth name Ying-”
His eyes narrow and he clicks his tongue before you can go on. “As the Novarch of Strength, I have many titles people refer to me by. However, Stellaron Hunter is new to me.”
Novarch of Strength…?
Static binds your mind, your soul, your tongue. You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all.
It’s only when something nudges your foot do you get pulled out of your murky stupor. There’s a puppy-like creature, blue fur and red eyes and a scythe-shaped bone protruding from its head. It’s sniffing at you and when you look down at it, it cocks its head at you.
Blade’s gaze flicks to his strange puppy. “Cublade has a sense for absurdity. Given he isn’t snapping or barking at you, you do not seem dangerous.”
You might just buckle to the ground. “Y-your—uh—Cublade is right. I swear I’m not a threat, and I’m not bullshitting you. You’re my…my…”
Now it’s Blade’s turn to cock his head, looking almost exactly like his puppy. It hurts, he’s got this close bond with this puppy and somehow you missed the entire burgeoning of that relationship. “Yes?”
“My…husband.” Your voice breaks. Was everything before this a dream, and this is the real world, where none of your memories together were real? The dam bursts and you tell him everything—who he was to the universe, to his companions, and most importantly, to you. All the while he listens quietly, his pup sitting beside him almost meditatively.
A long silence lapses. You’re afraid he might set his puppy on you and shred you to bits, or perhaps pull out his sword and do the job himself.
But Blade doesn’t sneer; he doesn’t scorn. Instead, he continues to watch you, contemplative. You might just cry.
The heavens do it for you first. From the dark sky comes a drizzle, one fat drop of water after the next, and then more and more until it looks like a downpour might beat down on you mercilessly if you don’t hurry and find shelter.
You’re afraid Blade might turn and walk away now, Cublade in tow, and leave you to fend for yourself. Alone, in a strange place. The rain begins its torrential fall.
But before you can feel the brunt of it, an umbrella blots out the sky overhead. Pristine white, glimmering with the borrowed light of nearby streetlamps.
Blade steps closer, umbrella in hand, ensuring you’re huddled under the safe middle of the canopy. A gesture you remember well, but an action he’s seemingly performing with you for the first time.
His other hand rises to your face, cupping your cheek. He’s still wearing that contemplative expression, even as you let out shuddering breaths, instinctively leaning into his touch out of habit. He doesn’t seem opposed to it.
“Show me, then,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your cheek. “If you are who you say you are, I wish for you to show me.”
Your breath catches in your throat as the rain patters down all around you both, but the heat of his touch, and the protection of his umbrella, so painfully intimate, keep you shielded against the bitter cold. The challenge in his words has been extended to you out of trust, of patience.
You can win his heart again. You must.
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