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to heal a broken heart with idia shroud.

NOTE. Part two of “To lose Malleus Draconia” !

You had always been good at pretending.

At this point, it was already second nature to you, really—masking your emotions with an easy smile, playing the enigmatic troublemaker no one could quite pin down. So when your heart was figuratively ripped out of your chest and was shredded to pieces when the person you loved found happiness in someone else, you did what you did best: acted like nothing had changed.

It was a convincing act. Almost.

Lately, however, your patience was running thinner than usual. The edges of your carefully constructed front were fraying, especially when certain things set you off—like the sight of them, standing too close to Malleus, laughing with him, stealing the attention that had once belonged to you.

God, what happened to forgetting and moving on?

And now, to make matters worse, here Ortho Shroud was, right in front of your dorm room, floating right in front of you with his usual cheer, an iPad clutched in his small hands. You didn’t need to guess who was on the other end of the call.

“Hello, Mini Shroud,” you greeted under your breath, already feeling a headache forming. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, [Name]-senpai!” Ortho chirped as he hovered closer. “Nii-san wanted to talk to you, so I brought him here!”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, barely resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of it. You peered down at the iPad, which displayed none other than Idia Shroud—well, the online icon of Idia Shroud, that is.

“Okay. What happened to you?”Idia asked, voice crackling slightly through the speakers as it adjusted to his voice.

You raised a brow, feigning ignorance. “What are you on about?”

“Uh, you?”

For once, you saw sight of a familiar blue flame flickering wildly, his expression twisted in sheer disbelief. Idia’s eyes darted over your face like he was analyzing an error in a game—actually turning on his camera for once, which was already concerning enough. “Dude, you look like you got hit with a debuff and just decided to keep playing. Have you seen yourself?”

“Wow. Charming as ever, Shroud.”

Idia wasn’t buying it. He leaned closer to his screen, scrutinizing you even harder. “No, seriously. Even your glitchy, cryptid self isn’t this—this—“ He waved a hand vaguely. “Moody.”

Ortho helpfully chimed in, “Nii-san ran a facial analysis on you, [Name]-senpai! According to the data, you’ve been significantly more tense and irritable in the last few days!”

“Facial analysis?” Your face fell flat.

Idia huffed. “Not the point! The point is, you’re acting like an NPC that just lost their main storyline quest. What gives?”

“Shouldn’t I be more concerned that you did a facial analysis—“

“Just answer the question.”

For a fleeting second, you felt your mask slip. Just a fraction. But you caught yourself before it could fully slip away, forcing an easy smile back onto your face.

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’m always moody. It’s part of my charm.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m a social butterfly.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Because I’m not blind,” Idia shot back. “And you look like you’re about to either punch a wall or collapse from emotional damage. So spill.”

You hesitated. You weren’t used to people noticing—or rather, you weren’t used to people calling you out on it. It was oddly disarming.

But like other things, you weren’t ready to talk about it. Not yet.

“Shroud. Idia. Dearest. Have you considered that I might just be brooding for dramatic effect?”

“That would be believable,” he deadpanned, “if you didn't look like a crashed program about to blue-screen.”

You chuckled, but it lacked its usual bite. “I’m fine, Shroud. Really.”

Idia didn’t look convinced. Ortho still seemed concerned.

But they didn’t push it.

“...Fine, whatever,” Idia muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just don’t, like, turn into some tragic villain arc or whatever. That’s my aesthetic.”

You shook your head, waving a hand dismissively. “Goodbye, Idia.”

The screen goes dark.

-

Idia was not a social guy.

He avoided drama like the plague, stayed out of people’s love lives, and generally preferred to keep his interactions limited to a screen. It was safer that way. Less exhausting. No weird feelings to navigate. No awkward pep talks to give.

But you were his friend—a menace, a problem, but still his—and you were not acting very you lately.

And that was a problem.

A problem that Idia did not want to deal with, because ugh, feelings, but also—if you kept sulking like some tragic gothic novel protagonist, Idia was going to lose his mind.

A problem that also happened to occupy his bed.

Which was why, against his better judgment, he was actually making an effort to snap you out of your funk.

A real effort.

And you, the little bastard that you are, were resisting.

“Okay, listen,” Idia started, barely suppressing his frustration as you lay sprawled across Idia’s bed like a corpse, one arm draped dramatically over your face. “I get it—love is pain, you’re dying inside, blah blah blah—but you cannot just keep flopping onto my bed and refusing to move for hours.”

You peeked at him through your fingers.

“I can, actually.”

Idia groaned. “No, you can’t.”

“I’m a demon. I literally can. For centuries, too.”

“[Name].” Idia’s eye twitched. “Get. Up.”

You let out a long, suffering sigh.

“But why?”

“Because if I have to see you like this for another day, I will start screaming, and I won’t stop.”

You arched a lazy brow. “That’s kind of tolerable.”

“Oh my god.” Idia ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Nene, you are literally one of the most annoying people I know—how did you let yourself get this pathetic over one guy?! He’s a guy, for Sevens’ sake!”

You narrowed your eyes, sighing. “Bold of you to assume this is just ‘one guy.’”

“Oh, so you admit it’s because of Malleus.”

“Shut up.”

Idia grinned, victorious. “Ohhh, I knew it.” He sat cross-legged on the bed beside you, poking his arm repeatedly. “The mighty [Name] Mroczek—grandson of Chernabog, reduced to a sad little demon because the dragon prince didn’t pick him. Tragic.”

You swatted his hand away with a glare. “Do you want me to bite you?”

“I hate you.”

“I would welcome death at this point.”

You groaned, finally rolling onto your side.

Idia deadpanned. “And yet, you keep coming back to me.”

You muttered something in Slavic that was probably an insult.

Idia took it as a win. His win.

“Okay, enough brooding,” Idia declared, grabbing your wrist and yanking—which did absolutely nothing because you were a huge and a demon, but hey, effort. “You need to do something other than mope. And before you even think of saying ‘nothing sounds fun,’ I already made a list.”

You blinked, a bit surprised because Idia was not the type to put in so much effort in things that he didn’t see worthy of his time. “You made a list?”

“Yes, because I knew you’d try to be difficult,” Idia huffed. “Now. Option one—gaming marathon. I will let you use my custom console, and you know how big of a deal that is.”

“Oh. True. But you know I don’t even know how to hold a ‘gaming console.’”

“Which brings us to option two—we terrorize someone. Legally,” Idia added quickly. “Like, harmless pranks. I already programmed some illusions to mess with people.”

“Tempting,” you hummed.

“Option three—” Idia smirked. “We talk shit about those egoistic mermaids behind their back.”

That made you sit up, your attention piqued. And for the first time in weeks, you actually looked like yourself.

Idia leaned back, pleased with himself. “There it is. Finally.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth in them now. “You’re awfully persuasive.”

“And you terrorize me more often than I can count, so that makes it even LOL.”

You huffed, but you didn’t deny it. Instead, you stretched out your arms, your usual lazy confidence slipping back into place. “Fine, fine. I’ll humor you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

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