Can you do another child!reader with the tadc cast, like in ep 5 in the bar with all of them (why did they let a child in there? i dont know) and everyoneβs sharing their backstoryβs but turns out readerβs backstory/homelife is the most tragic but theyβre 100% unaware of it because theyβre a child.
I love this idea so much! Kinda reminds me of Little Misfortune?
(Related posts 1 and 2)
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Fuzzy memories
β The bar was washed with monochrome colors. Zooble glanced at you before mixing another drink. A cosmopolitan for Ragatha, and a chocolate milk for you. You bounced in your seat. Excited for your turn to talk about home.
β Everybody assumed you'd been... Kept on a long leash, to say the least. You got into an abandoned building. All on your own. And made it to the headset they had all put on. If you were being watched, such a thing could never have happened.
β You started the story with the headset. The way you describe it, makes it sound like a dream. The building was cold. Empty. But you werenβt scared. Smiling as you laugh about breaking a window before finding the old computer.
β Of course you have a mom. Or, at least you did, at one point. She went away for a while. The reason? You weren't told. "Mom left a while ago. Dad worked lots. So it was me at home. I had a fish, too! But it died. I kept it in a bag of salt."
β You move on to your bedroom. "My room wasn't in a haul." Unlike the one you have now. "It was in the basement! I, um, I saw squirrels outside. One of them is called sprinkles." Rambling about whatever came to mind.
β "Dad has friends." You looked up from the counter to point at a bottle of cheap liquor. Zooble and Ragatha exchange a glance. "On the fourth of July, one of them drank that and set off fireworks." A giggle left your throat. "He had to go in the ambulance!"
β βI think I was sick once." You added with a smile. "I slept and woke up in a different house. That was fun!" You didn't mention any symptoms. Leaving the others to assume you were abandoned -temporarily, at least.
β Zooble muttered "...Jesus" under their breath. Not angry. But stunned you could talk about all that without seeming phased. Was that really how you lived? They mix another drink for nobody in particular, lost in thought.
β This whole scatterbrained story ended with you explaining what happened the morning you came here. You got ready, all by yourself, and left without telling anyone. Nobody said goodbye. Perhaps they were still asleep?
β By this point the room was silent. Save for you, who couldn't read the room. You pause to take a sip of the chocolate milk given to you. That was when Kinger put his hand on your shoulder. A melancholic look in his eyes.
How do you think the main digital circus characters would react to a teen being transported there who's also a troublemaker similar to Jax?
I think it would also be funny if they looked up to Jax for that reason and just followed him around talking to him like a regular kid excited- Can you also write how they would react to that too?
A teen Reader would probably have the most meltdowns out of everybody.
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Caine, Zooble, Jax & teenage Reader
Caine
β He sees you as an imprisonable youngster who should be treated gently. Consequences for your bad behavior are nonexistent. As long as you promise not to do it again. Leaving you with too much energy and not enough supervision.
β Itβs an open secret that you're his favorite. Mess up, and he laughs it off. βTheyβre learning! It's all just trial and error!β But Caine is only this lenient with you because he sees you as an innocent child. Nobody else could get away with the things you do on a daily basis.
β Caine is convinced that Jax is a bad influence. Making you misbehave. He always blames him for things you do, to the delight of Zooble. Punishing him for "manipulating you" and "corrupting the youth."
Zooble
β Zooble likes you. They really do. But at the same time, you piss them off. Pushing every button they have on purpose. Testing their patience until Zooble finally snaps. "Could you shut up for five seconds?!" Then feeling bad about it afterwards.
β After l living in the Circus for a while, Zooble forgot you were a teenager. You act so adult sometimes. But you're not an adult. Just a scared kid. It hits them when, after a long day, you lash out at everyone and yell "Just leave me alone!" while running to your room. Slamming the door behind you.
β In the suggestion box adventure, Zooble specified that you shouldn't be allowed in the bar. Caine ignored this. Letting you join the others with one condition. That you don't drink. And you did just that. But snatched a bottle of champagne while Zooble wasn't looking...
Jax
β You think he's fun to be around. Laughing at his bad jokes and following along with the terrible decisions he's made. Wherever he is, you're sure to be close by. Effectively becoming his problem. But he tells everyone you're your own problem.
β Jax refers to you as "the kid" and wont use your actual name. But on the rare occasion he does, something is usually wrong. Like you messed up or got hurt. Pulling out the full name like an angry parent. "What the hell were you thinking Y/n?!?"
β When you get irrationally mad at him for whatever small reason, as teens are prone to do, he acts genuinely hurt. Not in a "How dare you!" kind of way. More of a "The hell did I do?" way. Later, he might throw a snack at you while saying "Have you calmed down?"
Idea. For one adventure tha TADC members have to rob a bank and the reader is somehow very educated in this type of thing. When asked the reader admits that they were a known and wanted criminal which can freak them out
The reader adventured banks.
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Career criminal Reader
β You weren't looking for any trouble. Just an easy score. The C&A building was abandoned years ago. But everything inside looked untouched. Surely there was something valuable? Then you found that damned headset.
β Your new body? It's a raccoon. Obviously. Or some other theft associated animal. The grabby little hands and mask-like fur pattern suits you perfectly. Not to mention how everything fits in your pockets. You could fit a sofa in there if you tried.
β These days, the most you can do is yoink stuff from Caine's adventures. Thinking that they won't remember. Robbing NPCs without guilt. Imagine Caine re-using the same NPC and, somehow, they recognize you as someone who stole their wallet.Twice.Β
β In the McDonald's adventure, you spent the whole time trying to steal from the register. Stressing Gangle out in the process. You got $0.00 and a nice new pair of handcuffs. Plus you got to leave early! So, really, you were the one who won.
β Robbery wasn't your favorite. It's nerve wracking and hard to pull off. Planning it was the worst part. But when rent was due and your stomach was empty, you would do it. Just to keep your head above water. You hated that the most.
β One day, Caine decided to have a "bank robbery adventure." It was actually pretty fun doing a robbery without the stakes. But did Caine really think handing you a gun was a good idea? Either way, you're suspiciously good at this.
β Caine gave you a lockpicking set for enrichment. Complete with a practice lock that was copied from Jax's door. The rabbit had... Opinions about that. "Are you f*****g kidding me?!?"
β Ragatha once joked about turning you in. Little did she know, you have warrants out for your arrest. Warrants as in plural. Good news is, you can't be arrested while stuck in a digital hell! Bad news is you're stuck in a digital hell.
βUsed the βwrongβ bathroom.β Zooble said. Annoyed look in their eyes. "Got banned..."
Nodding gently, you speak "Yea. I got banned from Walmart."
You paused for a moment. Thinking over what you're about to say. "But it was for a good reason." The statement gaining you Zoobles full attention.
"I justβ¦ took things. Food mostly. Couldnβt afford not to. The job I had paid, like, six bucks an hour. Overtime didn't help.β Explaining the situation causally. Like it was something everybody did.
HOLY MOLY, i'm in LOVE with ur tadc + child!reader hcs!! (and all ur writing WHO SAID THAT??) may i request more hcs on anything with the reader? like, what caused the reader's erratic behaviour and how the others, especially jax, view y/n afterwards, maybe them crying due to the fact they're missing their teenagehood stuck here or maybe they were transported to the circus on their birthday?? AHHH i just love the concept!! :D
Oh my God. Angst potential. I hadn't even thought about that! Thank you for the idea!!!
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Younger teen Reader angst
β This is all you are. Everything you're allowed to be. Sometimes, you think about the world you were taken from. How it must've moved on without you. The idea messes with your temper. Lashing out at whoever's closest.
β It's like something was stolen from you. The chance to grow up. To become the person you could have been. Each and every milestone that you might've been looking forward to. First job, graduation, 18th birthday, it's all meaningless now.
β "Shut the hell up." You say to Ragatha after she tries, yet again, to cheer you up. Her hopeless positivity annoying you. "Don't pretend to help." The words stung for her to hear. But she knows you don't really mean it.
β Jax sits by when you start tearing up. Pretending not to notice. While, at the same time, trying his best to be there for you. He's not great at this whole "being emotional supportive" thing. But for you, he'll try.
β Perhaps your home life wasn't the best. Filled with instability and neglect. Now, everything is catered to you. To the best of Caine's ability. So, what do you do? You crash out and treat whatever adventure you're in as a rage room.
β Imagine being dropped in a maze of mirrors. Reflecting a body you don't recognize as your own. As you smash each reflective surface, bits of glass get lodged into your skin. But you don't care. When you finally find your way out, Ragatha hands you some band aids.
β Disassociation, once a habit, is now your favorite coping skill. Despite not even knowing the word. One day (Or night? You're not sure.) Kinger found you curled up in a corner. And he tried to comfort you. "Hey... What's going on?"
β Each day you test Jax's patience. But, when you're feeling difficult, damnit if it doesn't make his life hard! Not laughing at his jokes like usual is always the beginning. Followed by some sarcastic comment. "Haha. Wow. You're hilarious." You deadpan.
β He might act like you're a pain. Because you are. But he knows you don't really know what you're doing. You're young. Still figuring yourself out. Really, he feels bad for you. Trying to grow up in a place like this can't be easy...
β As you punch a mirror in their room, Zooble watches. Wide eyed. Unsure how to feel. Then, you storm off. Leaving them feeling more confused than anything. Thinking 'Well, they are a teenager. What'd you expect?'
β Zooble really doesn't know what to do with you. Thankfully, Ragatha does! When you clearly aren't doing well, they turn to her for advice. Asking what they could do to help. Or stay out of the crossfire...
β Ragatha tries. She tries so hard to be your rock. Even when you say things that hurt. Never looking at you in a different light. One thing you hate is that she goes into your room. Leaving little notes that say "You're not alone." Or something else along those lines.Β
Hi Brittle! This is my first time requesting a scenario for you. But anyways, can you create an angsty one where the reader comforts Pavlova Cookie? Since I learned that Pavlova Cookie's desire is to leave the garden but he can't due to Eternal Sugar Cookie won't allow anyone to leave her Garden of Sweet Delights (I hadn't play CRK for quite some time, so this is new to me) and it is implied that the "statues" in-game were actually living cookies who defied Eternal Sugar Cookie
[Calm Sugar Angel] βWould you like another, heavenly?β
[You] βThat would be nice.β
[Gentle Sugar Angel] βWe have plenty, so donβt be afraid to have as much as you want!β
The angels kept continuing to feed you countless fruits as you lay back in the pink cloud. It hadnβt been that long since youβve arrived here in the garden, at least it was what you thought. Here? It was nothing but relaxation and a stream of berries and other delights!
Who would even think of wanting to leave such a place like this!
βWell, with a beaten down and broken heart like yours, a rest like this from the outside world was needed!β
[You] βPavlova Cookie? When you did get here?β
[Calm Sugar Angel] βPavlova Cookie! You know this sanctuary was only made for our heavenly in mind!β
[Gentle Sugar Angel] βThe Bringer of Happiness will not be pleased to see other Cookies in here, including you!β
[You] βHey, itβs okay! Heβs probably only here to pester me about my heart. I can take it from here. Peace!β
The Sugar Angels nodded to your request and fly away from the sanctuary, leaving you and Pavlova Cookie alone.
βSo what brings you to me, Pavlova Cookie? Here to talk about how my heart is locked away? How I need to move on after all these years? Because let me tell you, itβs going to be eons more before I even consider it.β
βSo many Cookies pining for your love and you wonβt even give them a chance! Itβs such a tragic way to go, love so close yet so out of reach! I LOVE it!β
βThey understand that part of me isnβt ready. Maybe someday, but for now, I just like doing my own thing of helping Cookies in my kingdom and out of it.β
βYour kingdom?β
βYeah, itβs a place where Cookies get to live their lives the way they want to live it! Itβs safe and welcoming to all Dessertians! Just donβt be overly evil and weβre all set!β
βSafe and welcomingβ¦.the Bringer of Happiness told me that the Cookie world was unfair. That the garden is the only place where Cookies can be happyβ¦β
That happiness youβve been feeling turned into confusion at his pondering words.
βThereβ¦are unfortunately some crummy parts of Earthbread, but it doesnβt cover the ENTIRE land. There are villages, kingdoms, and nature where Cookies live worry-free lives, itβs not something only exclusive to this garden..β
βIf what youβre saying is trueβ¦.β
βYeah?β
ββ¦β¦β
βPavlova Cookie?β
Pavlova Cookie quickly looked around for a second, flying around to make sure the brush was well bunched together and the gate leading to the sanctuary was secure before flying back to you, taking you by surprise as he holds your hands into his.
βPlease take me with you!β
βWhat!?β
βThe Bringer of Happiness told me about you, how you bring happiness to the Cookies that live in your kingdom. It makes you and her alike in that wayβ¦β
βIβ¦guess you can say thatβ¦but why would you want to leave, itβs safe hereβ¦β
ββ¦..you wonβt turn me into a lifeless statue, will you?β
βIβm repeating myself here, but what!?β
βThatβs what happens to any Cookie that tries to leave here. I wanted to be free for so long, but I was so afraid of what the Bringer of Happiness would do to me if I tried. But with you here, I might have a chance!β
βPavlova Cookieβ¦.β
βPleaseβ¦.*sniff*β¦I canβt live like this any longerβ¦.β
Pavlova Cookie started to cry, this knocked you out of your happy-induced stupor as your protective instincts took over. You hold the little Cookie close to you as he weeps into your chest.
The fount of knowledge. Thatβs what everyone knows Blueberry Milk Cookie as.. The son of the current Blueberry Yoghurt Academy headmaster, next in line for the role. The truth-spreader.
But perhaps.. The truth shouldnβt always be told.
---
He remembers it all. He remembers it in detail.
Him hearing a voice, talking about something called.. βPullingβ and βgachasβ and βbannersβ. It making his head dizzy, trying to figure out what those are. The voice then gleefully remarking, βAh, what a fun game this is..!β He recalls himself being moved by.. Something. Some.. otherworldly force.
Weird things happen after that. Or perhaps it wasnβt weird, but.. He starts to notice. The voice is everywhere, talking about βnot having enough crystals,β βnot having enough materials,β βhaving bad luck,β and other things. He realises more things. How the cookies get star jellies, how the kingdom hasnβt crumbled to bits, how they get their wishes granted. Itβs all because of.. Them. the one the voice belongs to.
He should tell the other cookies. They should know the truth.
---
βHow do you think that this kingdom is still intact without an actual royalty? How do all our wishes get granted? How we get star jellies out of nowhere? Itβs because there's someone controlling us..! Do you ever go from one place to another, in the blink of an eye? Itβs because of them..!β
βI promise you all, this is the truth! Weβre nothing but pawns in a simple game! Weβre getting controlled by some other force, with our every move getting monitored!β Blueberry Milk insists.
The other cookies refuse to believe him. They all know he spreads nothing but the truth, but then.. Why do they doubt him now? Rumors spread about how the Fount of Knowledge has gone insane.
---
He wishes he was never curious, never prodding around.
As they say, curiosity killed the cat.
At first, the rumors donβt get to him. He is utterly unaffected, still trying to spread his truths.
More rumors fly around about how heβs doing this for βthe attention he never got from his father.β
That one hurts quite a bit.
The biggest blow to him is dealt when his father calls for him to meet him at his office.
βIβve heard what youβve been doing, Blueberry Milk Cookie. Why have you been spreading lies?β his father asks him. The stern look in his eyes makes it feel like an interrogation.
βI havenβt! Itβs the truth, I say nothing but the truth..!β Blueberry Milk argues. He will stand by his point, no matter what people think of him. He is ready to defend his truth even more, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak.
βPerhaps I was wrong to trust you. Blueberry Milk Cookie, you are no longer going to be the next headmaster.β
βBut-- But father, itβs the truth, I promise you, I have pro-β Blueberry Milk is panicked, but he doesnβt show it.
βLeave, before I take more severe actions. I donβt want you in my sight any longer.β Blueberry Milk doesnβt need to look up from the ground to know that his father has that disapproving look in his eyes.
He runs out of the office without another word.
--
βWhy must I be the one cursed with this knowledge.. Why couldnβt it have been someone else..β he mumbles to himself, sitting on his bed in his home.
That annoying voice that has caused all of this lets out a laugh. At what? His life crumbling to pieces right in front of his eyes? βOh gosh, just shut up for onceβ¦!β he bursts out. Unfortunately for him, the voice doesnβt shut up. It simply gets louder.
---
The rumors donβt stop. Theyβve gotten worse. He hears everyone talking about him. He simply ignores them. It hurts, of course, but rumors have to stop one day, right?
Wrong.
Itβs been a month. A whole entire month. Heβs a persistent cookie, and will not give up on his truth.
The rumors have now expanded to him βgetting disownedβ and βbeing a disgrace.β
---
He canβt believe it. He really canβt believe it. Heβs.. Heβs getting.. Exiled.
How? He only said the truth!
But.. Everyone has turned against him. Not a single cookie believes his truths, or anything he says anymore.
Why is he getting punished for the truth? He only wanted to help.
He laughs bitterly at fate, as he walks away from his home. Can it even be called home?
---
He goes to other places, spreading his truth, but still, no cookie believes him.
Itβs alright.
He knows the truth though.
βWhy do cookies prefer sweet deceits over bitter lies?β he wonders. Despite all his knowledge, he canβt find an answer to this question.
---
He soon gets known as βthe infamous lie spreader.β An attention seeker.
He accepts it. He accepts the fact that he will be hated for his harsh truth.
He accepts being controlled, he accepts that he is like a puppet on a string.
---
Blueberry Milk finally gives up. He gives up on the truth.
No one will believe him, so whatβs the point? Whatβs the point in wasting his breath in spreading truths that no one will accept?
Although he outwardly accepts that he will be hated, he canβt help but fear that they might be right.
That heβs nothing but a delusional, insane cookie.
The voice giggles, and laughs at him.
---
βItβs the truth, itβs the truth, itβs the truth, itβs the truth, itβs the truth--β he repeats to himself over, and over, and over.
Heβs reaching his breaking point. He canβt deal with this. He canβt deal with no one believing him. Itβs weird, going from a truth spreader to an accused liar. He could never lie..! Right?
---
One night, he decides that heβs had enough of his truths being denied. Of his truths being called lies.
Maybe he could..
βNo. No. No way.β he tells himself.
Itβs forbidden knowledge, he canβt use it, if everyone found out, heβd be hated even more. But what if he just changed his whole self? That would work.
βNo. You canβt do this..β the part of him that still hopes for truth argues. But heβs too far gone.
He mentally apologises to himself and everyone.
Using his forbidden knowledge of dark magic, he reshapes himself to create a new identity.
Blueberry Milk is no more.
Shadow Milk has taken his place.
If this is how everyone reacts to the light of truth, then perhaps he will start spreading shadows of deceit instead.
even though his logic tells him otherwise, shadow milk likes to think heβs the protagonist, the main character. the star of the show.
of course, he knows that heβs probably the antagonist, or even worse, (or better?) a side character. at least the antagonist gets some stage time! perhaps heβs the side character thatβs written absolutely horribly, to the point that he is hated. heβs fine with being hated, really. heβs fine with being absolutely despised. heβs used to it by now. (but that doesnβt mean that it doesnβt hurt.)
he wonders what the puppeteer thinks about him. he always cares about what people think, that has never changed.Β
one day, heβll cut his strings and let himself be free from being a puppet.
heβs grown used to having the puppeteer watching his every move, though it does suck having someoneΒ laughing, squealing and talking in your ear when you just want to sleep. does the puppeteer even sleep, or is their sleep schedule just that messed up..? (he acts as if he actually sleeps enough.)
maybe the puppeteer is the main character. or maybe theyβre the playwright of this whole world. perhaps the puppeteer is simply a member of the audience. If thatβs how it is, then heβll perform his best, just for them..!
maybe he is a character in an elaborately thought up play. perhaps, heβs the unrevealed antagonist! thatβs a wonderful, absolutely wonderful, way of thinking!Β
but.. imagine if he was the main character! all the viewers would have to like him! hah. any action of his could make the difference between the play being a comedy or a tragedy. ah, choices, choices! maybe the reason that he hasnβt crumbled is because heβs the main character! he canβt die, he has plot armor..! (he ignores the fact that he has made himself immortal through dark magic.)
let him be egoistic. let him live in his delusions. (though delusions never really get you anywhere, do they?)
he knows though. deep down, he knows. heβs the unlikable antagonist, the one thatβll be defeated, hopefully to come back stronger, the one that people think is pure evil. he wonders, though. Whoβs our amazing protagonist? that might end up defeating him? Well, That doesnβt matter, heβll do everything he can to prevent himself from crumbling.Β
he goes down the spiral of thoughts.Β
β¦ of course heβs the antagonist. heβs evil. heβs a liar. no one likes someone who lies all the time. heβs utterly unlikable, how does black sapphire and candy apple even like him?
theyβre just weird that way.
he sighs.
shadow milk wonders, when will it be his turn to take his final bow and leave the stage?
oh well, no point of wondering. heβll just be the star for as long as he can! Simple as that.
hopefully, he wonβt have to steal the spotlight from anyone.
he will play his role as the fool, the jester, and put on his stunning show! heβll be the entertainer in this boring play! (but is it truly as boring as he thinks?)
he sure hopes he has a great audience! it would be such a shame if he were unable to please them all!
Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?
>The Beasts get corrupted
>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails
>cue them starting to die
>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take
>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they couldβve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going
>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around
>cue literally everything else
Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.
The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)
Witchβs Castle witches are pretty neat.
βThe story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small saplingβ¦When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.β
βThe Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.β
β..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this worldβ¦β
βAnd the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.β
βKnowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.β
βThe Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.β
Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.
βSo those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?β
βHuhβ¦Those βSix Virtuesβ are different from those of the Soul Jams. Thereβs six of them, yet only five todayβ¦β
βThe Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.β
βAlas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of endsβ¦A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.β
βOne by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twistedβ¦reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silenceβ¦.β
Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.
βDeceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scaryβ¦
βWait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They werenβt evil too, were they?β
βThe Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusadeβ¦β
βThe Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.β
βCompassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispersβ¦But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittleβ¦β
βCome on, snap out of you all! This isnβt what you guys once were!β
βWhatβs the big deal, silly willy~ There isnβt anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!β
βNo! This isnβt you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!β
βIt pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that youβre different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?β
βI canβtβ¦I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, donβt you want that?β
βThey will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothingβ¦the futility of all this should be clear to youβ¦β
βAs if! It isnβt pointless to live life the way you want it to! Itβs how you spend it and make the most of it!β
βThey will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! Youβre starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!β
βI wonβt let you hurt them and I donβt want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, donβt do thisβ¦β
ββ¦β¦β
βYour silence says everything I need to hear from you. I triedβ¦but I will put a stop you no matter if Iβm reduced to bits!β
βThe Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend wasβ¦and they perished right in the middle of the circleβ¦.β
βOk, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!β
βDarling, we know we havenβt hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beastsβ¦β
βHmmβ¦they donβt seem to be responding to usβ¦β
βHey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, youβre..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.β
Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wristβ¦jumping back when they feel nothingβ¦
βAhaha! Okay! This isnβt funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! Iβll make you if you donβt!β
βD-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, Iβm sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join usβ¦β
βBurning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?
βD-Donβt put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!β
ββ¦.!β
The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their facesβ¦
βY/N Cookie, if you donβt stop playing jokes with me right now, Iβll never forgive you!β
βDarling! Wake up! I-Iβm sorry! I shouldnβt have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Donβt leave me alone!β
βIt was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yetβ¦my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resistβ¦.please, wake upβ¦β
βGod DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldnβt have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruinedβ¦.because of meβ¦.β
ββ¦.Hmphβ¦.β
Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had doneβ¦for what they all had doneβ¦.
βI wishβ¦I couldβve done more for you allβ¦I wishedβ¦that I had loved all of you moreβ¦to notβ¦end up like this...β
βThe Witches couldnβt bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them allβ¦they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this landβ¦β
βAnd planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live onβ¦.From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.β
βThe Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the endβ¦Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.β
βAll, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with herβ¦β
βSo, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?β
βItβs what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isnβt out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, somedayβ¦β
Everyoneβs eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.
summary: Harumasa brings exact Bangboo replicas of you and your Section Six coworkers to the office. For some reason, his Bangboo won't leave you alone.
notes: 3.7k words, author's notes, spoilers and references for Section Six special episode, fluff
There are a few things youβve come to expect from your coworker, Asaba Harumasa: falling asleep at his desk during the middle of the day, sneaking requests for time off work alongside his pile of overdue reports, and walking into the office several hours late with a ridiculous excuse.
So when Harumasa strolls into the office for once, on time, with a light step and casual wave, itβs enough to make you look up from your flood of paperwork with a confused glance as he throws you a wink.
βGood morning, everyone,β he says cheerily, hand on his hips, stopping just short of entering the office. βI have a surprise for you all!βΒ
Soukaku and Miyabi, who have been diligently working (read: eating snacks and playing tic tac toe on official bureaucratic documents), are the first to run over. Yanagi remains at her desk, and the two of you exchange wary looks.Β
βTheyβre so cute!β Soukaku says with childish delight, crouching down to mess with something half-hidden behind Harumasa and the open office doors.Β
βHow lifelike,β Miyabi muses, arms folded.
Itβs at this point that you and Yanagi canβt resist striding over to see what Harumasaβs surprise entails. Youβre greeted by the sight of several Bangboos crowding behind him. They appear to be custom-made: one in blue, one in black, one in white, and one in your favorite colorβtheyβre the exact same as the Bangboo forms you and your colleagues had taken during a virtual reality attack from a hacker group.Β
Soukaku is patting her Bangboo, her eyes bright as the Bangboo (Soukaboo, you decide it should be called) makes happy noises. Miyabi and her Bangboo (Miyaboo would be a good name for it) simply stare at each other without blinking, though after a moment, Miyabi nods, as if coming to some sort of internal decision.
βBangboo?β Yanagi murmurs. βBut why?β
βYou can interact with them, you know,β Harumasa interjects.
βInteract with them?β you ask.Β
At the sound of your voice, your Bangboo tilts its head at you. It appears to be sizing you up in the same way youβre observing it, with the same measured detachment. Itβs a little eerie how similar it is to you, your mannerisms captured in a robot.Β
Harumasaβs Bangboo (Asaboo, you dub it in your head) takes a few steps towards your Bangboo and tries to nuzzle it, only for your Bangboo to swiftly sidestep its advances, turning its body away in a clear sign of rejection. Asaboo lets out a sad little sigh, synthetic ears drooping, before it immediately perks up when its gaze alights on you.
βEhn-nah!β Asaboo says, its mechanical voice sounding like the cheerful jingle of a bell.
Its body is chubby and white, smooth and sleek like the shell of a fat egg, and it preens under your newfound attention. Asaboo spins in a circle, revealing a little red target and arrow on its butt, and it takes all your self control not to throw your arms around it.Β
Thereβs one thing you canβt deny: these Bangboo are absolutely adorable.
βItβs so much cuter than Harumasa,β you say out loud, arms crossed, as Asaboo beeps a little βeh-nahβ in agreement, shuffling closer to you as it does.
βI agree,β Yanagi says. βPerhaps we could consider replacing Harumasa with this Bangboo. I imagine reports would come in a much more timely manner if we did.βΒ
βYou know I can hear you, right?β Harumasa says, a faux wounded expression on his face.
βI know,β you say dryly. βBut whatβs the point of bringing them over? Donβt these look like the time we were turnedββ
βItβs a change of pace,β Harumasa interrupts. βI figured we needed our own mascots, donβt you think? Think of the merchandising we can do. And they would brighten up the office.βΒ
βYeah?β you say, unconvinced. βSince when did you care about that?β
βWellβ¦β he continues, βThere was also a deal at the shop I went to where if you bought one, you could get one free. Why wouldnβt I take advantage of such a good deal?β
Miyabi is watching Harumasa with a contemplative expression, her ear twitching slightly at his words. Before you can ask her what sheβs thinking about, Asaboo suddenly tugs at your leg.
You glance down, and its chubby arms are wrapped around your calf, its little face peering up at you with its wide eyes.
βEh-nah?β it asks, in the cutest, most innocent voice imaginable.Β
You canβt stop yourself from reaching down and patting the top of its head. It wiggles at your touch, reaching up its little hands, as if trying to feel the spot where you just pat it to capture your warmth.Β
βItβs so cute,β you say fondly.Β
At your words, Asaboo jumps up and down in excitement.Β
βAnd itβs oddly attached to you,β Yanagi remarks. βAsaba, what does the AI data for these Bangboos look like?β
For the first time this morning, Harumasa looks abashed, but that doesnβt stop him from responding, βWell, these Bangboos are modeled closely on our personalities.β
βHarumasa, is there something you want to say to me?β you tease. βI donβt recall you being as desperate for my attention as this Bangboo.β
βI think this is very telling, Asaba,β Yanagi says, crossing her arms.Β
βWhat on earth are you two talking about?β Harumasa says, widening his eyes, neatly sidestepping your questions and avoiding your gaze. βTelling in what way? Deputy Chief, donβt tell me youβre feeling left out. Should I order one for you, too?β
βNo,β Yanagi says wearily, βThat wonβt be necessary. Iβd rather you save your money for something useful.β
βThis is useful, though! Itβs excellent for team morale! Donβt you think theyβre cute, Soukaku?β
βHmβ¦β Soukaku looks down at Soukaboo, who does a little hop. βTheyβre cute! I like them.β
βDonβt drag Soukaku into this!β Yanagi says.Β
βI think my Bangboo will make an excellent training partner. I havenβt had a chance to spar with myself yet,β Miyabi interjects in a thoughtful voice. Miyaboo nods its head in agreement.
βChief, not you, too!β
βI think itβs harmless, Yanagi,β you say. βItβs one of Harumasaβs better ideas.β As you speak, Asaboo tugs on your leg again, looking up at you with a pitiful expression. βOh, are you feeling left out?β
You reach down and run your gentle fingers along Asabooβs head, rubbing alongside its ears. It has a smooth, rubbery texture, but if you press down harder, you can feel the vibration and stabilized heat of its whirring machinery beneath its exterior.
Harumasa watches you with a conflicted expression. βWhy arenβt you this nice to me?β
βYouβre not as cute as Asaboo,β you say resolutely, and Asaboo lets out a little βeh-nahβ of agreement.Β
Harumasa purses his lips. His eyes narrow at Asaboo, and itβs the exact same expression he hasΒ right before he lets loose an arrow aimed for an Etherealβs core. βIβm starting to regret this purchase.β
βYouβre the one who brought them over. Asaboo hasnβt done anything wrong,β you say.Β
βBut youβre taking its side!β Harumasa protests. βAgainst me, your loyal partner! Our bond is forged through countless adversities in the Hollows, against the worst Ethereals New Eridu has ever seen! And youβre choosing a Bangboo over me!β
βOur relationship is strictly business. This is different,β you say, fingers dancing over the top of Asabooβs ears as it lets out a content sigh.Β
βHarumasaβs been replaced,β Miyabi murmurs.
βHeβs been replaced,β Yanagi agrees.
βHarumasamasa has been replaced!β Soukaku says cheerfully.
βThereβs no need to rub it inβ¦β Harumasa glances at your Bangboo, which is peacefully sitting on the floor in a patch of sunlight, staring out one of the windows, oblivious to the chaos around it. He crouches, and holds out his hand, as if to pat its head. βHey there.β Your Bangboo immediately jumps up and scampers away without looking at Harumasa, resuming its vigil farther away.
βRejected, even by a Bangboo,β Yanagi murmurs. βAsaba, Iβm starting to feel bad for you.β
βTsukishiro, if you say that, thatβs just going to make me feel worse, you know?β Harumasa says ruthfully. βBut itβs fine. We can just let them run around a little longer.β
The newest members of Section Six settle into the office with relative ease. The Bangboo are given free range around the office, though you notice that Soukaboo likes to sit near anyone with visible snacks, and Miyaboo is found in increasingly odder positions: on top of the door, hidden in a bookshelf, or tucked under a desk.Β
Your Bangboo, on the other hand, is perfectly content to help deliver paperwork or coffee around the office, though itβs not immune from Miyaboo and Soukaboo pulling it into sudden games. Asaboo has no similar luck with your Bangboo, which seems to ignore Asabooβs attempts to get close. Thereβs a hint of dissatisfaction in your Bangbooβs expression, though you canβt tell where itβs coming from.Β
So Asaboo ends up waddling after you, settling right next to the side of your desk. Whenever you get up to grab a cup of coffee, discuss confidential information with other officers, or simply to stretch, Asaboo immediately jumps up to follow.
βNot interested in playing with the other Bangboo anymore?β you say. The other Bangboo are hopping around in the distance, bouncing a ball Soukaku pulled out from her desk back and forth.
βEh-nah!β it says, puffing out its chest.
βWell, Iβm happy to hang out with you, too.β You pat its head once more, and it gives a wiggle of delight.
βIβm also happy to hang out with you,β Harumasa adds. His desk is right next to yours, so itβs easy for him to see everything thatβs going on. You glance at him, with his chair pushed back from his desk, feet propped up on the table, ankles crossed.
βSure, but youβre not voluntarily spending time with me. We work together,β you respond dryly. You donβt miss how his mouth tugs into a pout, looking for all the world like a displeased cat which has been denied its favorite meal.Β
Around lunchtime, when you pick up your packed lunch to head to the break room, Asaboo jumps up and down in the air, holding out its hands.
βOh? Do you want to carry this for me?β you say, holding the package aloft.
It nods enthusiastically, ears flopping, and you gently place your lunchbox into its hands. Asaboo clutches the bundle to its chest like its most precious treasure, though itβs nothing more than some plastic containers set in a carrying case, with a handle that pops out that Asaboo loops its hand through.
βI could carry that for you,β Harumasa adds. His head is down on his desk, gazing at you through the fringe of his dark eyelashes. Theyβre unfairly long and pretty.
βAre you sure?β you say, raising your eyebrow. βI thought you said you werenβt capable of lifting anything heavier than a single sheet of paper.βΒ
βWell, Iβm feeling a burst of strength today, soββ Harumasa raises himself from his desk and reaches out towards your lunchbox, but Asaboo leaps back before his hand can even graze it.Β
βEh-eh-nah!β it says defiantly.Β
βOh, you littleββ
βDonβt bully Asaboo,β you scold, moving to stand in front of it. βCome on, Harumasa. Itβs just a cute little Bangboo.βΒ
βIt just made a face at me,β he says indignantly, throwing his hands up helplessly.
βWell, like you said, the data for its personality is based on you.β
With that, you and Asaboo head towards the break room, Asaboo wobbling behind you cheerfully the entire time. The break room itself is surprisingly spacious, with floor to ceiling windows, tasteful plants tucked in corners, and clusters of tables and cushy chairs scattered about. Various gleaming, stainless state of the art kitchen appliances are huddled in the corner. Itβs one of the nicer break rooms youβve seen, and you have HSO budget to thank for that.
Asaboo quickly runs to a table near one of the windows, and hops up to place your lunchbox on the table. Itβs a quiet spot, away from the other officers, and the sunlight pleasantly warms the area.
βDid you choose this place on purpose? Youβre so thoughtful,β you coo, and Asaboo ducks its head, raising its hands to cover its face in embarrassment. Really, when it reacts like that, itβs hard to imagine Asaboo derives its personality from Harumasa. Itβs not as if Harumasa isnβt thoughtful; in fact, you have a feeling the presence of the Bangboo is his roundabout way to make everyone happy, somehow.Β
But Harumasa, clinging to your leg, or following you everywhere? Itβs hard to imagine. Is that how he really wants to act around you, or is it simply that Asaboo has its own individual quirks, separate from the influence of Harumasaβs personality data? Despite Yanagiβs earlier comment about how βtellingβ Asabooβs reactions are, your own teasing, and Harumasaβs reticent response, itβs not a clear marker for Harumasaβs own feelings.Β
Youβre not sure you want to use Asaboo to measure Harumasaβs feelings, either. That brings up its own complications, especially regarding your own emotions towards Harumasa. It would be a lie to say that Asaboo being Harumasaβs Bangoo doesnβt make you extra sweet to it. Well, that and the mischievous desire in you to see Harumasa pout. After all, itβs payback for all the teasing youβve endured from him since the two of you joined Section Six.
You enjoy a quiet lunch with Asaboo, though once youβre both back at the office and youβre settled at your desk, Asaboo lets out a little βeh-nahβ when it sees Soukaku holding up a picture to her Bangboo, a crayon drawing of her and Soukaboo in a field of flowers, holding hands. It immediately leaps up and heads out the door. You donβt have time to wonder at its behavior, though, not when you have a mountain of tasks thatβs piled up since you were away at lunch.
βYour loyal companion left. Want me to take its place?β Harumasa offers.
βGet back to work, Harumasa.β
Ten minutes later, youβre interrupted from your workflow by the patter of mechanical feet and something tugging at your leg.
You look down to see Asaboo, covered in mud and grass stains, a trail of dirty footprints behind it, and a proud expression on its face as it clutches a flower in its hand. In contrast to Asabooβs appearance, the flower is pristine, with soft, pure yellow petals.
βEh-nah!β Asaboo says. It holds the flower in your direction.
βOh, Asaboo, where did you get this? Is this for me?β you ask. You gingerly take the flower from its hand, and Asaboo looks proudly at you.
βEh-nah. Ehn-nah-nah!β It jumps up and down for emphasis.Β
βIβll cherish it forever,β you promise, and carefully place the flower on your desk. Youβll ask Soukaku to help you press it later so you can preserve it. Was that why Asaboo had been looking at Soukakuβs drawing? Because it was thinking of you?
βIf you want flowers, I can give you some, too, without ripping up the buildingβs lawn,β Harumasa says. He looks at you sleepily, with that familiar pout curling around his mouth.
βThen why havenβt you?β you tease him. βBesides, think about it. If Asaboo gives me a flower, isnβt it essentially the same as if you gave me the flower yourself?β
βItβs completely different,β he protests. βItβs not like I knew you wanted flowers. And Asaboo isnβt me. If anything, itβsβ¦β He brings a hand to his tie, which already hangs loose from his collar, and unconsciously slides the knot lower.Β
βItβs what?βΒ
βThe Bangoo werenβt meant to do any of this,β he says.Β
βI thought you said these Bangboo were bought on a whim,β you say.
βI did. Thatβs not exactly wrong, butβ¦β Harumasa hops up on your desk, perching on a spot free from papers or office supplies. He crosses his legs, and you swing your office chair in his direction. βSometimes, if you have a bitter memory, you can overwrite it by facing it over and over until you get used to it and itβs no longer so painful, right? Like exposure therapy.β
Youβre quiet for a moment. Asaboo, at some point, has slowly run off to find the other Bangboo. They circle each other and jump around, an innocent dance of happiness, though Asaboo is watching your Bangboo more intensely than anything else in the room.
βAre you talking about the time we were turned into Bangboo?β you venture. Itβs a memory whose threat has faded with time, becoming less of a menace and more of a funny office story to relay to coworkers. Dangerous situations and odd circumstances come part and parcel with your job.
Still, you can remember the sensation of being a Bangboo with startling clarity: the virtual buildings of Lumina Square inflating in size around you, wobbling on legs you werenβt used to, unable to wield a weapon. When you lifted your hands, a shock would jolt through you to see metal and not limbs and fingers. Itβs a feeling of helpless you arenβt eager to return to.
βI was the first to turn into a Bangboo,β Harumasa says ruthfully. βAnd I couldnβt do anything. I had to watch everyone fight, knowing every second we wasted was a second closer to death. I had to watch you put your life at risk to keep me safe, and I couldnβt do anything at all. Everyone here is strong, butβ¦β He taps his fingers on your desk. βYou all pretend to be fine when youβre really not.β
How long has this been on his mind? It must have been what Miyabi noticed right away, from the very moment Harumasa started showing off the Bangboo. You slowly cover his hand with one of your own, entangling your fingers together. The heavy fabric of his gloves brush against your bare fingers, but you can still feel the bump of his knuckles, the curve of the back of his hand.
No one else in the office can see the two of you right now, the front of your desk with your computer and stack of books and folders acting as a barrier from the rest of the world.
βHarumasa.β You dip a finger under his glove, to feel the tender, warm, uncertain flesh underneath and trace designs on the back of his hand. His breath hitches. βYou donβt need to take on everything yourself. You also like to pretend youβre fine when youβre not; you can rely on us a little more.β
βSo the Bangboo werenβt a good idea, huh?β The joke comes out light-hearted and weak.
βNo, theyβre very cute,β you say. βI really like them, even if you donβt. But if you want to overwrite bitter memories, I think we should all do it together.β
A heated intensity steals across Harumasaβs face, his attention on you as unwavering and steady as a shaft of blazing summer light. βTogether? Do you promise that?β
He bends his head a little closer, and you tilt your head upwards in response. Whatever it is he offers, youβll accept.
However, before either of you can make another move, thereβs a great crash, metal slamming on cold tile, and you instantly rise from your seat to seek out the source of the noise. In the middle of the offic, you see Asaboo collapsed on the floor, sprawled over like a fallen egg on its side.
βOh no,β you murmur. But before you can rush over, something astonishing happens. Your Bangboo, which previously has ignored Asaboo, immediately leaps to Asabooβs side, patting its head with its hands.
βEhn-nah,β your Bangboo says worriedly.
βEh-ne-ne,β Asaboo says back in a faint tone.
Your Bangboo cradles Asabooβs hand in its own as it helps Asaboo stand. Asaboo leans on your Bangboo, though you canβt help but feel Asabooβs steps are a little too energetic as your Bangboo guides it out of the door, their hands entangled together the whole time, probably to find a charging port or a mechanic.Β
βHuh? I thought their Bangboo didnβt like Asaboo!β Soukaku says. She jumps up from her chair. Miyabi and Yanagi are clustered around Soukakuβs desk, ostensibly discussing some business thatβs been interrupted by the Bangboo drama. βIt didnβt want to play with Asaboo before!β
βI wonder if their Bangboo was just shy towards Asaboo,β Yanagi theorizes. βOr itβs possible it was jealous, too, of Asaboo clinging to someone else.β
βItβs most likely both,β Miyabi says. βI believe itβs always cared for Asaboo, and Harumasa by extension, but would loathe to let everyone know the extent of its feelings.β
Your face heats up as everyoneβs gazes swing towards you, like bright stage lights revealing you to an audience you didnβt realize was there. You donβt even want to look at Harumasa, still perched on your desk, because you can already imagine the smug, overly pleased expression on his face.Β
βI think we should talk about something else,β you suggest hastily. βDonβt you think Asabooβs behavior was a little strange?β
βAs Asabooβs owner and foremost expert,β Harumasa says, one hand cupped around his chin, βI think itβs obvious Asaboo was faking its sudden bout of dizziness in order to get the attention of your Bangboo.β
βWhy does that sound exactly like something you would pull off?β you say. βLike owner, like Bangboo.β
βSpeaking ofβ¦ I feel a little faintβ¦ I thinkβ¦ I need to lean on youβ¦β Harumasa, with no attempt to hide his theatrics, begins to lean strategically in your direction, face landing on your shoulder, slumping his entire body so his weight falls on you.
βAsaba Harumasa, can you at least pretend to hide your intentions?β
βCanβt hear youβ¦ Still dizzyβ¦ We need to hold hands or Iβll fallβ¦βΒ
Harumasa reaches for your hand with surprising speed, but you tuck it behind your back so he canβt hold it. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you instead, and it takes all your willpower not to shove him off and onto the floor.Β
You can still feel the gaze of your other coworkers upon you, and hear the whisper of their conversation, though they arenβt making any effort to hide their comments.
βTheyβre embarrassed,β Miyabi says quietly.
βTheyβre very embarrassed,β Yanagi says.
βSuper embarrassed!β Soukaku chirps.
You close your eyes, face still hot. From now on, youβre not going to underestimate Harumasaβs or Asabooβs capacity for cunning. As cute as the Bangboo are, maybe they are more trouble than theyβre worth.
summary: There's an old story from your childhood where if you make a hundred paper stars, then you're granted a single wish. However, it's not you, but your infuriating partner in Section Six whose wish you want to come true instead.
Itβs during a drowsy, sunshine-drenched afternoon, a brief moment of respite where there isnβt any paperwork to file or field missions to carry out, that Yanagi appears at your desk, giving you no time to hide what youβve been fiddling with during your break.Β
Though thereβs no reason to feel guilty, itβs still slightly embarrassing for Yanagi to catch the rainbow strips of paper littering your desk, interspersed with fruit-flavored candy that Soukaku left earlier that morning as a present. In the center of it all, thereβs a jar brimming with paper stars, the results of two weeksβ worth of progress made whenever you have a snippet of free time.
However, Yanagi doesnβt pause to acknowledge the way your hands are trapped in the middle of folding a half-finished origami star. Lips pursed in familiar frustration, she asks, βHave you seen Asaba anywhere?β
βNot since this morning, when we were doing reconnaissance in a Hollow,β you reply.
She sighs. βHeβs supposed to have finished his break half an hour ago.β
βDo you need him for something?β
βI need you two to follow up on the work you did this morning. The ether readings have changed, and they wanted someone to check it out,β Yanagi says. βIf you could find him and get him to come with youβ¦β
βI get the gist. Iβll head out as soon as I find him,β you say, folding the ends of the paper expertly and tossing a newly formed red star into the jar.Β
βThank you. Iβll make it up to you for cutting your break short,β she says apologetically. βSince youβre his partner, Asaba tends to listen to you a little more.β
βHe barely listens to me at all,β you grumble. You pat the daggers tucked snuggly near your thighs, and Yanagiβs eyes drift to the mess on your desk.
βI was wondering where Soukaku got all those pieces of paper,β she says thoughtfully. βDid you bring them into the office?β
βYeah. She thought the stars were candy, so I had to stop her from eating them. I taught her how to fold them, and in exchange, she gave me these.β You gesture at the hard candies littering your desk.
βItβs nice to do some crafts to relax.β
βThereβs also something special about these stars. If you fold a hundred of them,β you say, βyou get a wish. It was a popular story back in my elementary school. The local convenience store used to sell origami paper, and I would buy them with my allowance. I never did make it to a hundred, though.β
βThen there must be something you really want to fold a hundred now. I hope your wish comes true,β Yanagi says.
βI hope so, too,β you murmur.
A few minutes later, youβre cutting down the halls and up the stairways of your workplace, climbing until you reach the entrance to the roof. Barricade tape and warning signs block the landing, but with practiced precision, you duck under the tape without slowing and nudge open the door with your shoulder, which gives way without a fuss.
Cool wind whips at your face, and you scan the rooftop, nothing but a broad expanse of concrete and whirring, blocky machines, caged in by a metal fence. You jog down the length until you find who youβre looking for, lounging on the floor like a cat soaking up the golden afternoon sun, limbs askew and eyes closed.Β
Harumasa looks like heβs asleep as you approach him with silent steps. You crouch over him, your shadow cutting across his face, and he still doesnβt stir. For a few seconds, you watch him quietly. His headband flutters in the wind like a loose sliver of sunlight. His face is pale, splotches of dark ink forming under his eyes. Maybe he isnβt sleeping well.
βAdmiring the view, partner?β Harumasa says without opening his eyes.
βHardly,β you say. βI was just thinking about the best way to wake you up.β
βAll you need to do is call my name and Iβll respond.β
βRight. Just like how the last few times I tried to do that, you kept pretending to be asleep until I used physical force.β You emphasize the last few words and Harumasa groans as he cracks open an eye, propping himself lazily up with his elbows.
βCome on. Weβve been working together forever at this point, and you still canβt be a little nicer to me?β
βIβm only nice to those who deserve it,β you say.Β
βRight, right. I bet Yanagi sent you up here.β
βHow did you know?β
βYou usually let me slack off otherwise,β he says easily. βItβs only when thereβs something important that you bother me. Huh. If you think about it, thatβs pretty nice of you. Isnβt there a word for someone who acts abrasive to hide how much they care about someone else? Tsββ
βKeep talking and Iβll tell Yanagi just where exactly you like to hide during break,β you threaten.Β
βAw, donβt do that!β Harumasa gives you an exaggerated pout, and you roll your eyes. βCome here, partner.β
βWhy?β
βCome on. Come closer,β he wheedles, and you reluctantly lower yourself until youβre sitting next to him, face to face, legs folded under you.
Once you do, Harumasa drops his head against your shoulder, leaning all the warm weight of his upper body against your side like heβll fall apart without your support.
βWhatβs this about?β you grumble, but you donβt move away. Itβs become a familiar routine at this point: he teases, you complain, but you still gravitate towards each other. Maybe itβs because youβve been paired with Harumasa on so many missions that youβve developed a habit of putting up with all of his mischief.
βIβm not feeling well,β he says. βLend me your shoulder.β
βItβs a little too late to ask when youβve already done it.β
βYou know what they say. Ask for forgiveness, not permission.β
βIβm sure you know all about that,β you say dryly.
βNow. now. Iβm just being pragmatic.β
You usually donβt come to the roof at all, not unless youβre looking for Harumasa. But when you do come here, the air feels refreshing and cool, the sunlight more gentle. Though you pride yourself on being efficient and responsible, the first one to file your reports and to take notes during meetings, you can understand why Harumasa likes to nap here.
Itβs comfortable. Or maybe itβs Harumasa that makes the place so comfortable. It feels like your own private corner of the world, one where itβs just you and him. Not that you could ever tell him that, of course, or itβll make him insufferable.
βYanagi needs us to follow up on the Hollow we investigated this morning,β you say.
βAgain? We just got back.β
βThe ether readings have changed. They want us to investigate.β
βHmβ¦ but Iβm on breakβ¦β
βYour break was over half an hour ago.β
βYouβre on break!β he protests.
βSo? Iβll be reimbursed for it.β
Harumasa groans. βYouβre way too serious. You need to learn to take it easy. Iβm not feeling well, you know.β
βIs that so? Well, if you want to nap the day away, I can investigate by myselfββ
βWait.β Harumasaβs weight shifts off your shoulder, and now youβre face to face with him again, close enough to see the way his smile slips off his face, the intensity of his liquid gold gaze. βIβll come with you. Donβt do it by yourself.β
βYou donβt think Iβm capable, Harumasa?β you try to tease, but his lazy smile doesnβt return.
βYouβre capable,β he says quietly. βYouβre more than capable. But I want to be there to back you up.β Heβs the first to look away, and you feel cheated, even though you donβt know what you would have said in response. βSo, letβs get going. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can clock out of work.β
βOf course,β you say, a smidge too quickly. βIβll need to file reports for Yanagi when weβre done.β
At least the awkwardness of the moment on the rooftop blows over quickly as you prepare for departure. Working with Harumasa feels like being a part of a well-oiled machine, every movement in efficient, coordinated sync, the consequence of a well-established partnership. You fall into a routine as familiar as meetings or paperwork as you prepare to enter the Hollow: checking your weapons, gathering your supplies, escorting your Bangboo guide, and then striding into the Hollow at the designated entry point.
Within the Hollow, you and Harumasa alternate who takes the lead as you follow your Bangboo, slipping through half-hidden pathways and narrow crevices, all the while avoiding lurking Ethereals. Thereβs little need for words with Harumasa when all you need to do is read the tension of his body, like a bow pulled taut, and simply follow what it tells you. You have your own private language of body gestures, flicks of the hand or turns of the head, refined over years.
Itβs not as if you always worked this well together, of course. The first time you were paired together with Harumasa on a mission, both of you were fresh recruits to Section Six. You couldnβt stop arguing with him. His lax manner and sloppy dress infuriated you, but what was worse was how he always delivered results with minimal effort when you never did anything less than your best. In turn, he made fun of you for being a stick-in-the-mud and being unable to relax.
βYouβre going to go grey if you keep stressing yourself,β he would tease, looking much too pleased with himself, as if he enjoyed your little spats.
Harumasa touches your elbow lightly, and youβre drawn from your thoughts. βDid something happen?β you murmur. The Hollow stretches before you, twisted metal and broken concrete buildings stitched together with corruption that shimmers like an oil spill, but thereβs no sign of anything unusual.
βNope. Iβm just bored,β he says. βWeβre not any closer to finding the disturbance Yanagi told us about. We might have to head back soon if we still donβt find anything usual.β
βWe havenβt even gone that deep in the Hollow yet,β you say. βWe should at least cover all our bases. What, scared of doing overtime?β
βYes,β he says seriously. βMaybe a workaholic like you wouldnβt get it, but overtime is the public enemy of every government employee out there. So, what were you thinking about?β
βAboutβ¦ the past,β you say, relenting. βAnd how we used to fight all the time.β
βOh? Thinking about me?β
βOnly about how annoying you used to be.β
βRude. Is this how you talk about your precious partner?β
βYes.β
βWell, itβs too late to find someone else. Youβre stuck with me,β Harumasa says cheerfully.
βI never said I would find another partner. Youβre the only one I want.β You try to keep your voice casual, just like Harumasa, but something honest creeps in, something a little raw and unfiltered, like light through an unsealed crack.
And maybe he senses it, too, your inability to play the blithe role as well as he does, because he doesnβt jump in right away with another joke. The silence lingers, throwing the rhythm of your banter off-balance.
βThe only one, huhβ¦β From the way his hair shades his eyes, you canβt make out his expression or read his tone.Β
βHarumasa,β you begin, but a sudden beep cuts off your words. You glance at each other, all awkwardness vanishing as Harumasa glances at a device in one of his pockets.Β
Your Bangboo guide jerks to a sudden stop. This is the end of its automated guidance, as far as its data will take you. The two of you have reached the top floor of what must have once been a tower, a spiderweb of uneven, rusted metal and crumbling walls exposed to the low, grey sky. The floor slopes down to a sharp drop, leading to nothing but open air.
βEther spike,β Harumasa says. His hand is already drifting to his bow. βBut I donβt see anything. Whereβ¦β
It happens in a split second. Your body reacts before your mind can, years of training ingraining in you the necessary reflex to spring back as an Ethereal drops down from above, crashing like a meteor where you and Harumasa once stood.
Your daggers are already in hand, and you leap forward as an arrow flies from above, distracting the creature long enough for you to slash along one of its appendages. It roars, and youβre already darting behind it, Harumasa running along its other side.
Itβs an Ethereal like none youβve seen before. A Thanatos? A Duhallan? No, none of the existing classifications match. Itβs eerily beautiful, its core pulsing with multi-colored light, corrupted growth framing it like a star, delicate, vine-like appendages darting out momentarily to propel the Ethereal away from your reach. This must be the source of the disturbance Yanagi told you about.
Harumasa calls your name, and on instinct, you fall back as he lunges forward with a dizzying series of slashes with his blades. Youβve faced worse than an unclassified Ethereal of unknown strength. Even if neither of you have expected to engage an enemy, that doesnβt mean you arenβt prepared to.Β
The battle continues back and forth, a waltz of sharp steel and split-second communication between you and Harumasa as you implement all the maneuvers you learned in training. It seems like thereβs no end in sight, but youβre tiring the Ethereal, slowly but surely. Itβs only a matter of time before you find an opening to destroy its core.
And then, Harumasa stumbles. Itβs only a brief moment, his body dipping as something like a cough shudders through him before he steadies, but itβs enough time for the Ethereal to lash out several appendages like a bolt of lightning. Youβre helpless to do anything but watch as Harumasa flies backwards, his body bent like a doll discarded by a careless child.
Before you can think, youβre running, propelled by some instinct deeper than habit at the sight of your partner on the ground, throwing your daggers with wild precision as the Ethereal howls like a wounded animal. Thereβs not enough time to do anything except to throw your body in front of Harumasa before the Ethereal lashes out again in a brutal, sweeping arc.
Your body explodes with pain. Then, youβre weightless. The Ethereal has sent you flying, and briefly, itβs like youβre back on the roof, Harumasa leaning against your shoulder, the wind in your face, before youβre tumbling over the edge of the tower.
In the field of your vision, something gold flashes. Harumasaβs headband. Itβs all you can see, the afterimage of it burned into your eyes like the sun as everything goes dark.
β
From your earliest memories as a child, you had always been lonely. Maybe thatβs why you were drawn to things that reminded you of the sun, searching for anything to give you stability or warmth.
Your story wasnβt particularly unique: your parents were killed in an accident in a Hollow. You were shunted from relative to relative who never knew what to do with you. You clung to academics and books to prove yourself because you had nothing else.
You had a decently high Ether aptitude, so when you got the opportunity to join an elite academy on a scholarship, why wouldnβt you take away your chance to escape away from relatives who never cared for you? At the time, you had been living with one of your motherβs older brothersβwhat was his name? Youβd long since forgotten, and he hadnβt bothered to keep in contact once you left.
Either way, you graduated with honors and a flawless academic record. When Miyabi selected you to join Section Six, despite your lack of experience, you were excited.
βI believe youβll deliver results,β Miyabi told you simply, that very first day. βThatβs why I chose you.β
A flush of pride made your face glow. βI wonβt disappoint you!β
It was so nice to be relied on. To find a place that needed you, where you were valued. You were tied to Section Six through more pragmatic things than fragile family ties that easily dissolved.
You did your best, but it was hard when you werenβt the only new memberβAsaba Harumasa was assigned to Section Six at the same time as you. From the very start, your work ethics, lifestyles, and attitudes couldnβt be more different.
βCould you try to finish your paperwork on time? When you donβt, it slows the entire process down,β you would tell Harumasa.
βIt gets done, though. Does it really matter when I do it?β he would reply.
Frustratingly enough, even then, the two of you did so well on missions together that you were always assigned to be each otherβs partner. Maybe his work on the field earned him a little respect in your eyes; it was the one thing you couldnβt really criticize him on. But at the same time, it was infuriating that you had to put so much time and effort into delivering flawless results, and Harumasa always skated by with minimal effort.Β
One particular fall, the two of you were assigned to a mission to investigate high-level Ethereals in a local Hollow. Soon enough, you and Harumasa were surrounded. As skilled as you were, parrying several different Ethereals meant one could easily slip into your blind spot and strike. Too late, you only noticed when it was already moving, and you could only grit your teeth, bracing for impactβuntil its limbs met a flash of steel. Harumasa had leapt in front of you, pushing the Ethereal back and giving you enough time to strike its core.
βHarumasaββ you began to say.
βOn your left!β
And then you were flung into the heat of battle, with no time to process what just happened until the threats were neutralized.
It was only then you saw the gash running along Harumasaβs arm, blood soaking into his rolled up sleeves. Without a word, you took out your medical kit, and started applying disinfectant. Harumasa didnβt even wince as you dabbed away the blood with cotton balls. You knew, from the location alone, he had got it while protecting you.
βIβm sorry,β you told him, wrapping bandages around the wound. βThis is my fault.β
βWhat are you talking about? I did this on my own.β
βBut if I hadnβt been so carelessββ
βYouβre my partner. Iβll always have your back,β Harumasa said. His tone was as blithe as always, but there was a strange, tenderness underlying it.
His face was coated in dust and drying blood from battle, and yet, his eyes were still a startlingly pure gold, vibrant and warm. When he looked at you, it was like he was seeing you, all of you, warming you like the sun. He didnβt avoid your gaze or look past you, like your relatives had.
After that, you settled into Section Six, not because you were needed, but because you were wanted. Your arguments with Harumasa melted into something softer, something more playful. He was your partner, and you no longer grumbled about taking the same missions as him.
One day, when you were sent to fetch Harumasa for some mission or meeting (a favorite errand of everyoneβs to send you on because you had developed an uncanny sense of knowing where he liked to hide), you found him hunched him over in an empty office, knuckles white against a table as he coughed wetly, the force of it shuddering through his entire body.Β
Harumasa, who had always looked for any excuse to slack off, who slept on the job, who acted like nothing could bother him, looked more vulnerable than you had seen before.
You knew he had a medical condition, but he never talked about it. Even when he did, he always made it seem so trivial. A minor inconvenience, and nothing more.
βYou need to go to the infirmary,β you said, rushing over. βOr the doctor. Iβll call someone right now. Iβllββ
βDonβt,β Harumasa rasped. He grabbed your arm with more desperate force than you expected. βItβs fine.β
βYouβreββ
βItβll pass. Just let meβ¦ lean on you for a little.β Half-crouched on the ground, he collapsed his weight against you, and you both sank to the floor. You wrapped your arms around him and he leaned his head against your collarbone. You rubbed circles along his back, a meager offering to soothe him until the coughing subsided.
Harumasaβs breathing was shallow, and you wondered if he could hear the racing of your heart, the fear making it pound uncontrollably. His illness was more serious than he had ever let on.
βAre you okay?β you asked quietly.
βIβm fine. Itβs just all the pollen and dust, you know,β he said. Thereβs that familiar carefree, teasing edge to his tone, but itβs strained by his recent coughing.
βYou donβt have to joke with me. Iβm your partner. If thereβs something I can do for you, you can let me know.β
Thereβs a moment of silence before Harumasa sighed, a soft, resigned sound. βI just donβt want the others to know.β
βI wonβt tell them,β you promised.
He took a few more shallow breaths before speaking, voice cheerful, deceptively light and hollow, like a birdβs bone. βI have Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome. It manifests primarily in my heart and lungs, but in exchange, I have high Ether aptitude. Itβs the reason my parentsβ¦ left me, a long time ago. A doctor took me in, butβ¦ Well. I was recruited to an academy, graduated, and ended up here. But you know about that part.β
Youβve known Harumasa long enough by now to know that he was only giving you carefully curated bits and pieces of his past. There was something he wasnβt not telling you, but that didnβt change the fact he had decided to place his trust in you, regardless.Β
You understood what it was like to be left behind, to have nothing but yourself to cling to. Sympathy and pity werenβt what he wanted. No generic condolence could change his past or his fate.
Instead, you drew him closer to you. Harumasa let out a small, strangled gasp as you sheltered him in your arms. βIβll be here for you, so thank you for trusting me.βΒ
Sometimes, words were cheap. The only response you needed was Harumasaβs arms wrapping around you in return, a tentative promise.Β
Itβs only a few weeks after that, when you were passing by a convenience store on the way home from work, that you saw the origami paper strips lining the shelves at a discounted price and remembered the elementary school pastimes of your classmates.Β
As a child, you had wanted to make a hundred stars so you could make a wish for your parents to come back. But now, there was something else you wanted: not to make someone come back, but to make someone stay with you.
β
Your body aches. Itβs all youβre aware of at first, a throbbing pain, spreading through your body in waves.
Your vision is blurry, the Hollow wavering in front of you like smeared paint, black protrusions and metal platforms blending together, a nightmarish portrait.
You drag your arm in front of your face, flex your fingers slowly until the world stops spinning.Β
Youβre alive. Against all odds, youβre alive, but you have no idea where you are or how much time has passed. Youβd probably fallen into a distortion.
With any luck, Harumasa has already left and called for back-up. You could survive in a Hollow longer than most ordinary people could, but you didnβt want to test your limits. For now, you would have to do your best to survive. With agonizingly slow movements, like youβre dragging your body through water, you check your daggers and equipment, and survey the area around you. Itβs full of twisted metal structures corrupted with black growth, platforms and stairs jutting from rocky walls, like a building thatβs been swallowed by a cliff, with no particularly distinguishing feature.
It then takes even longer to convince your legs to support your weight, and to take a few steps without leaning against the wall.
Something clatters in the distance, heavy limbs dragging on the floor. Ethereals. This part of the Hollow is infested with them, a mutated sea of green and pearlescent black cores, though youβre temporarily sheltered in the area where you fell. As long as you avoid them, you should be fine; youβre no longer in any condition for prolonged combat.
All you can do is slowly drag yourself around, daggers at the ready, sneaking past any Ethereal you see. Itβs agonizing work to be so careful, especially when youβre occasionally hit by waves of dizziness and your injuries make your reflexes slow.
Is Harumasa safe? Did he escape? Did he destroy the Ethereal? Or did something worse happen to him? Thereβs no point thinking like this and driving yourself insane, but your thoughts scatter like a flight of migrating birds, and no matter where they go, they always end up drifting in Harumasaβs direction.
Maybe you can blame Harumasa for distracting you when an Ethereal catches sight of you before you can fully conceal yourself. You can do nothing but mumble curses under your breath as more Ethereals are drawn to the noise and youβre forced to draw your weapon.
Itβs harder to fight without Harumasa to cover your back. Youβve gotten too used to having him at your back. Several times, you open your mouth to call his name, but heβs not there to answer. Itβs just you, clumsily dodging blows and aiming weak strikes at Ethereals you normally would have been able to dispatch with ease.
You might die here. The thought comes, unbidden. Youβre weakened, surrounded, when an Ethereal looms over you. You twist your body around trying to dodge, but your body refuses to move as fast as you need it to as the Ethereal prepares to strikeβonly to still, stagger a few steps, and then collapse onto the ground, a spray of arrows protruding from its back.
Your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head up in the direction the arrows came from. It canβt be, but it is. Itβs him. Your partner, his mouth set in a grim, furious line as he draws his bow back. Itβs the first time youβve ever seen him look so angry.
In what feels like no time at all, the remaining Ethereals fall and your body feels light as you fight with renewed energy. Hardly any of them could get near you before Harumasa has shot them down with enough force that their bodies slam into the floor with a shattering crack. As soon as the last threat is neutralized, youβre running to Harumasa, but heβs faster than you.
βHarumasaββ Your words are muffled as Harumasa pulls you into a hug. His fingers dig into your shoulders, his grip tight. Thereβs something possessive and desperate about his touch, as if he might never hold you again and he has to memorize the shape of your body while he still has the chance.
His skin gleams with sweat, his white shirt sticking to his torso. Has he been running around this whole time, looking for you, without resting? You press your ear to his chest, where his heart rabbits in his chest in a frightened run.
βI thought you died,β he whispers, his voice hoarse.
βIβ¦β
βI thought I lost you. And I couldnβt stop until I found your body, and I would have to tell the others that youβ¦ because of me, youβ¦β
βHarumasa, Iβm sorry.β
βI donβt want to hear that.β
You tentatively bring your arms around him, and a shudder wracks through his body at your touch. βIβm sorry for worrying you.β
βThen donβt do something so reckless again! If you dieβ¦ If you die, I donβt know what Iβm supposed to doβ¦β
βI canβt promise that. Youβre my partner. I told you I would have your back. If I see you in trouble, I canβt just run away.β
βThatβs not fair.β
βI want you to live,β you murmur. βI want you to live, no matter what.β
βThen you have to live with me.β Harumasa pulls back abruptly, bringing his hands to your cheeks, and pinching.Β
You attempt to reply, but you can only make a garbled noise of affirmation. Itβs hard to talk when Harumasa is pulling your cheeks like taffy, but maybe he isnβt ready to hear your response.
You place your hands over his, and Harumasa stills, your touch a soothing balm. He lets out a breath. βLetβs get out of here. You need to get your injuries looked at.β
For the rest of the time until you leave the Hollow, Harumasa clings persistently to your side, refusing to move a step unless you have as well. You would call his pace leisurely if not for the tense way he holds his body, poised for threats from any direction. Youβre half-tempted to ask if he would feel more at ease holding your hand, but you have a feeling he would never let you go again if you did.
Harumasa doesnβt relax even when youβre back at your workplace, where he escorts you directly to the infirmary and paces outside the entire time, causing the nurseβs eyebrows to crease in irritation at the sound of his rapid footsteps.
βIβm fine,β you announce the second you step out of the infirmary. βOkay? The nurse said I had no major injuries, though Iβm not supposed to be on the field for a week. And I have to do a few more check-ins.βΒ
Itβs only at your words that Harumasa finally relaxes. βThis is probably the first sick day youβre going to take,β Harumasa says, but his teasing doesnβt quite match his eyes, which keep roaming your body for stray injuries which the nurse might have missed.
In the office, youβre immediately assailed by Yanagi, Miyabi, and Soukaku, who fuss over your bruises, the bandages peeking under your clothes, and the patches on your face.
βIβm glad you two are okay! I was so worried when I heard what happened. I know youβre capable, but you shouldnβt be so reckless,β Yanagi scolds lightly.Β
βTake the time to rest and recover completely,β Miyabi says. βSection Six needs you, and we canβt function well if youβre not around.βΒ
βTake these snacks! Theyβre tasty, and theyβll help you feel better!β Soukaku says earnestly, shoving an armful of packaged chips at you.
Itβs been a long time since anyone has worried over you like this. Itβs a little embarrassing how everyoneβs attention is focused solely on you, and you canβt keep a small smile from creeping onto your face. βEveryoneβ¦ I promise Iβm fine! You donβt have to fuss over me like this.βΒ
βDonβt forget to go back for your checkup,β Yanagi interjects. βAll right? I donβt want to see you on the field until youβre cleared. And you, Harumasa! You need to take care of yourself, too.β
βYanagi is right,β Miyabi says. βMaybe you should get a check-up as well.β
βIβm fine, Iβm fine,β Harumasa says, holding his hands out placatingly. βMy injuries arenβt as bad as theirs. In fact, Iβll be a good partner and take care of them, promise.β
βThatβs a first,β you interject, βSince when you were so excited about doing work?β
βIβm only excited when youβre involved,β he says, and you donβt know what to say to that.
The rest of the day passes by pleasantly once Section Six is satisfied that youβre doing well, though they keep making excuses to stop by your desk and leave you drinks from the vending machine or little treats. You fill your time with paperwork and organizing files, and when those are done, crafting paper stars at your desk.
βWhat are you gonna wish for when you have a hundred stars?β Soukaku says, sprawling across your desk and picking up a strip of paper to fold with clumsy, childish joy.Β
βIβm actually not going to wish for anything. Iβm going to give my wish to someone else.βΒ
βWhat? You can do that? Then I wanna give wishes to you and Nagi and Miyabi and Harumasa!βΒ
βThank you, Soukaku.βΒ
βWhoβre you going to give your wish to?β Soukaku asks as you hand her more origami paper strips.Β
βHmβ¦β You survey the star youβve just finished folding. βItβs for someone important. Itβs a little embarrassing to talk about it out loud, though.β
βWhy? I think whoever it is will be happy that youβre thinking about them!βΒ
βDo you think so?βΒ
βYeah!β Soukaku says. βI would be happy if you gave me a wish!β
βThen should I make you a hundred paper stars, Soukaku?β
βReally? Yay!βΒ
By the end of the work shift, youβve finally filled your glass jar with the necessary number of stars. You should feel happy, but what you didnβt tell Soukaku is that you wonder if itβs too presumptuous to give this to Harumasa. After all, you still remember what itβs like to be rejected by people who were supposed to love you and take care of you.
You cradle the jar in your hands, the product of all your meticulous work over the past two weeks. Itβs heavy with the weight of your feelings and your ridiculous wish.
βHey, partner.β Harumasaβs sudden voice makes you stiffen and whirl around, keeping the jar hidden behind your back.Β
βHarumasa.β You take a breath. Thereβs no point in being embarrassed. βDo you have time right now?βΒ
βOh?β He raises an eyebrow. βWhat a coincidence. I was just about to ask you that, too.βΒ
βI assume weβre both free, then. Come over to my place,β you tell him bluntly.Β
βYour place?β
βYes.β
Harumasa tilts his head like an inquisitive bird, considering. βSure, but I didnβt realize you were that excited to see me after work.β
βOh, donβt get full of yourself.β
The two of you are back to your usual banter, but itβs devoid of its usual lightness. The events from the Hollow still linger over you, and Harumasa sucks in a breath before giving a casual smile. You respond with a roll of your eyes, but it feels wooden, everything unsaid thickening the air like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm.Β
The journey back to your apartment is peaceful. You take the train, watching the familiar strips of buildings and city lights streaking past, soft smudges against the glowing sun, sinking like a pat of butter in a red, syrupy sky.Β
You live in a relatively nice building, the salary from your job affording you a lobby as well as a doorman and a fast elevator. At your apartment door, you fumble with your keys, fingers heavy and clumsy as youβre aware of Harumasaβs presence behind you, waiting.
The door clicks open and you step into your apartment, a one bedroom, one bathroom affair with sturdy, comfortable furniture, books and knick-knacks lining the shelves of the joint living room and kitchen. More books are stacked precariously on the single table you use for both work and meals, situated in the center.Β
You slip off your shoes and into your house slippers, offering a pair to Harumasa, who after putting them on promptly walks over to one of the shelves in the living room and pokes at a little Bangboo statue. Thereβs a whole forest of them lining the shelf, all in different outfits and poses.
βI didnβt realize you were such a fan. Hey, do you get the public security ones to help you cross the street?β
βDonβt touch it. Itβs a collectible and Iβm trying to get the last one in the series,β you say crisply. βAnd of course I do. It makes the ones patrolling the streets happy to help.β
βWait, really?β
βTheyβre adorable, Harumasa. I donβt know what else you want me to say.β
βItβs not a bad thing! I just think you have a surprisingly cute side, thatβs all.β
βThanks,β you say, trying to keep your face schooled in a neutral expression, before gesturing to the table in the living room. βTake a seat. Iβll make some tea.β
You brew a pot of bitter green tea, taking out a plate of crumbly packaged cookies to snack on. Theyβre the least sweet snack you have in the house which Harumasa would be happy to eat.
For a few minutes, thereβs only the clink of your cups and the crunch of cookies, a pleasant way to spend your time after work. Neither of you talk, the food giving you an excuse not to. Itβs ridiculous how such a small gift could make you feel so nervous. You need to do it now. Otherwise, what would the point be of inviting him over?
You run your finger along the rim of your teacup, pressing hard enough to feel the edge of smooth porcelain dig into skin. βThereβs something I want to give to you.βΒ
βA present? For me?βΒ
βDonβt get too excited. Itβs nothing fancy,β you say, before standing to retrieve the jar of stars, which you had shoved into your work bag.
You hold it behind your back until youβre in front of Harumasa, at which point you place the jar on the table and slide it over to him.
A hundred stars for one wish. You explain the story to him as Harumasa cups his hands around the jar, peering intently as if he could see the hours you spent painstakingly crafting each individual star.Β
βI know itβs a little silly,β you say quietly. βBut I want whatever you wish for to come true, no matter what.βΒ
Harumasaβs eyes when he looks at you are just like stars, warm, bright gold, that you would trust to guide you no matter what path you tread.
βI want you to be happy,β you say, the words falling from your mouth like a wish of your own.Β
βHappy, huh?β Harumasa closes his eyes briefly, stars winking out of existence.Β
βIβm sorry if thatβs presumptuous. You donβt have take this gift if you donβt wantββ
βWhoa! This is mine now. You canβt have it back now that youβve given it to me. Itβs justβ¦ there are some things about my illness I havenβt told you.β
βYou donβt have to tell me anything you donβt want to,β you say.
βI want to tell you, though. People with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome donβt typically live long lives. The illness is terminal. The oldest-recorded person lived only to be 26.β Harumasa says it matter-of-factly, the numbers rolling out of him like heβs simply reciting information from a medical brochure. βIn late stages, the body breaks down. And if someone with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome is in a Hollow when their body breaks down, then theyβll turn into an Ethereal.β
This is the knowledge Harumasa has been carrying with him all this time and hiding from everyone in Section Six. It must have weighed him down like stones, knowing that if things take a turn for the worse in a mission within the Hollow, heβll become one of the monsters you and Section Six have to put down. How long has he carried this by himself?
No matter how you try to hide your feelings, Harumasa knows how to read you just as much as you know how to read him, because he raises a hand and lazily waves it through the air. βDonβt look so worried. It doesnβt bother me that much.β
βIβm your partner. Of course Iβm going to be worried about you,β you say quietly. βI told you, didnβt I? I want you to be happy.β
Harumasa gazes down at the table, away from you and the jar of stars in front of him. βYou are, huh? Can I trust you with something else, then?β
βWhat is it?β
βIf anything happens to me,β he says, βand I turn into an Ethereal, you have to promise that youβll kill me.β
Thereβs no other answer for you, not when he looks at you like that. βI promise. I wonβt let anyone else do it.β
βThen Iβm all yours, partner.β
βButβ¦β You reach for Harumasaβs hand across the table, slowly and reverentially sliding your fingers under his, feeling the press of each callous on his slender fingers. These beautiful hands, which you have saved and which have saved you again and again. βI gave you a wish, you know? So you can have anything you want.β
βEh? Didnβt I tell you what I wanted?β
βIt doesnβt count,β you persist. βIf it helps, Iβll tell you what I want.β
βAll right, what is it?β
βI want you to live forever.β
βThatβs way too long,β Harumasa protests.
βThen live for a hundred years at the very least,β you say. βI wanted you to be happy for a long, long time. I made you a hundred stars, so each star is worth one year of happiness.β
Itβs ridiculous, you know. Itβs not pragmatic at all. And maybe itβs cruel, too, to ask Harumasa something like this. But if heβs going to be selfish, then youβre going to be just as selfish.Β
βA hundred years? Then you need to live that long, too.β Harumasa shifts his hand and hooks your pinky lightly with his own. βItβs not fair if I have to live that long without you. Thatβs going to be my wish.β
βThen Iβll make it come true,β you say. βI told you, didnβt I? Weβre partners. Where you go, Iβll go.β
In the window across from you, ink-blue shadows flood the world. The sun had set while the two of you were talking, and the city lights wink like scattered gemstones across dark velvet.
βIf you talk like that, then Iβm not going to want to leave,β he says quietly. βYou make me want to act selfishly.β
βThen act selfishly. Iβll forgive you.β
He lets out a sigh, squeezing your pinky. βYouβre not fair at all.β
βGood,β you say archly. βStay the night, Harumasa.β
Harumasa stills at your words, and you can feel the faint tremor of his hand. βI have nightmares. Itβs not going to be a good time for you.β
βThatβs all right,β you say. βIβll take care of you.β
Itβs easy having Harumasa in your apartment, where he fits seamlessly into your normal routine, the same way he does at work. You lend him towels, and baggy pajamas, and then the two of you take turns using the bathroom. You order cheap takeout from a local restaurant, which you eat in front of the glow of your television, watching the news. As you wash up the dishes, Harumasa perches on the counter, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes or smile.Β
Harumasa, framed in the soft glow of kitchen lights like a halo behind him, hair askew, wrinkling his borrowed clothes, makes your heart ache. It would be nice to have him around like this, all the time. Youβve forgotten the warmth of having someone in your home until now.
You should bring out the futon you keep for guests, but you donβt mention it, and Harumasa doesnβt ask. So he follows you to your bedroom, knees bumping against the side of the metal frame as you pull out an extra pillow for him.Β
Harumasa dutifully takes out his rows of medicine, orange bottles lined up your nightstand, brightly colored pills falling down his throat with each sip of water from the glass youβve brought him. He folds his golden headband neatly next to the bottles, and finally places the jar of stars to stand guard over everything. It makes you feel ticklish that he wants to keep your gift so close.
Your bed is too small for two people, but neither of you complain as your legs tangle together, Harumasa resting his forehead against yours. In the dark, you grope for his hand, entangling your fingers with his, where they belong.
βGood night, partner,β he whispers. Heβs so close his breath tickles your face.
βGood night.β
βItβs too late to turn back now,β he murmurs, but you canβt tell if heβs saying it to you or himself.
βEven if I could, I wouldnβt,β you say, tracing nonsensical letters on his back with the fingertips of your free hand, a message he canβt read.
βI know. I guess weβre stuck together.β
βI told you. Weβre partners. Iβm yours forever,β you say.
Harumasa squeezes your hand. βAnd Iβm yours, so letβs take good care of each other.β
If you strain your head, you can see a faint strip of moonlight from your parted curtains illuminating your nightstand where a hundred paper stars glow. Like a promise, a wish, of a hundred years of happiness.
characters ; madeleine, espresso, red velvet, pure vanilla, lilac, dark choco
notes ; gn reader, angst, scenarios
summary ; before you leave them forever, they want to tell you something.
feiyue's note ; tadaa! inspired by the anon who thought that the first "before you leave" work was angst about breaking up with the cookies π here you go! here's the real angst~
tw: reader dies
-
it was truly unfortunate that you had to get injured in battle. it was truly unfortunate that it was you who took the fatal hit, and not your lover. it was truly unfortunate that you couldn't be saved. it was truly unfortunate... that your lover, who was holding you ever so gently in his arms for the last time, had to watch you die right in front of him.
-
"please, no! don't go! stay with me..." MADELEINE'S desperate cries rang throughout the empty and gloomy kingdom. his grip on you was bone-crushing, and you felt the life being squeezed out of you (to which madeleine replied "don't joke at a time like this!" when you told him that). who could blame him? he was severely distraught that you had to die so soon. now you were going to leave him alone forever. kissing you passionately for the very last time, he did not do anything to stop the rapid tears that flowed when your body went limp in his arms.
"i hate you," ESPRESSO mutters, tears welling in his eyes. "i hate you. i hate you so much. i hate you." he buries his face in your bloodied stomach, making you laugh weakly. you know he doesn't mean it when he says that he hates you. "who's gonna nag at me to sleep and eat at the right times now?" his voice cracks, but all you can do is to touch his cheek comfortingly as a futile attempt to reassume him. he wanted to scream and cry and curse to the witches for taking you away from him this early. what had you done to deserve this? what had he done to deserve this?
the ever so witty RED VELVET is finally at a loss of words to say, but he does not like it one bit, not when you're literally dying in his arms. though he has lived through battle and seen cookie jam countless of times, he cannot bear to look at the wound that cost your life. wordlessly, he caresses your hair, trying his best not to cry. but alas, at the sight of your weak, smiling face, he breaks down, wailing for the first time in years. red velvet swallows a scream when your body turns cold and soulless, and he knows that from now onwards, his life will never be the same.
"i- i can fix this-" PURE VANILLA frantically tries to assure you, but both you and him know that your fatalities are beyond repair. "please, my flower, trust me, i- i'll save you, i will-" he finally shuts up when your place a hand on his arm, telling him that it will be futile. strangely enough, the sight of his heartbroken face hurts more than your injuries. holding his hand tight, you try not to wince or show any signs of pain, in fear that he would panic again when he sees such. and when he can't feel your grip on his shaking hands anymore, he finally collapses, unable to accept your death.
"i'm so sorry," LILAC whispers to you, and for the first time, you see tears rolling down his cheeks. it was a pity that you could only experience this rare sight right before you left the world. you muster up enough strength to smile and raise your hand to wipe the tears away from his pretty face, and he chokes on a sob. as an assassin, he of all people should be used to the familiar sight of death, so why is he so hung over on yours? was it his fault for being to attached to you? kissing your forehead, he peacefully (but not any less sorrowfully) bids your soul goodbye.
it was as though DARK CHOCO was back in the past. that miserable feeling, oh so similar to when he slashed his father by accident. oh, how he wished he could reverse this. why was it you who had to die, instead of him? he was the one with many sins to repent. he was the one who had hands stained with blood and darkness. so why had fate chosen you? perhaps he was just too weak, like pomegranate often said. "i love you," is all he says, and you understand immediately. now, dark choco has a new mission in life - to become stronger and avenge your death.
a/n: wasn't very satisfied with dark choco + lilac's one :/ really liked red velvet and espresso's one though <33 haha biased
summary: promises are made to be broken. and scaramouche is a broken man.
note: this is purely platonic, i love feral platonic dynamics ueueue also damn this is slowly becoming a scara blog huh | m.list
words: 1054 | warnings: unedited because im lazy as fuck
"you want me to⦠leave?"
scaramouche stares down at you with a commanding look, arms crossed as he sits you down on the couch after claiming that he has an important task for you.
"that's right. leave this place the moment the doctor goes for sumeru, am i understood?"
"butβ"
"no, that is an order."
your mouth shuts at the sparkle of crackling electro in the air.
to leave him brings you a sense of fear and anxiousness tantamount to the number of people's throat that you had cut in half. to leave him means to be alone once more. to be separated means to not follow behind him with watchful eyes, no more of his stories whenever he catches you awake at midnight, no more standing close to him under his hat when it rains as he drapes the ends of his sleeves over your head to keep you dry.
to leave him means no more home to go back to.
why?
why would he ask you this when you have nowhere to go? no family to go back to other than him?
is he?...
"am i⦠am i disposable?"
scaramouche visibly staggered at your whispered words, pointing his furrowed eyes at you.
"what? i did not say that, brat."
"but you want me to leave. am i being disposed of?"
"whaβlisten, brat," scaramouche sighs loudly, "i'm not disposing of you. i'm telling you to leave this placeβwhy are you crying!?"
silent streams of tears cascade your cheeks, your teeth chomping on the inner skin of your bottom lips to keep it from trembling. after all, scaramouche hates it when you cry. he hates it when you're being weak.
perhaps it is because you're weak that he finds you replaceable?
"i can hear your thoughts from the look on your face, brat," scaramouche sighs tiredly, pushing himself up to crouch in front of you. with one hand, he tilts your chin up to look at your teary eyesβsomething in his chest aches at the very sight of your crestfallen face. if he had a heart, he's pretty sure it would stop beating for a second, though he dares not utter such sentiments.
"stop crying."
"you don't want me here."
"that's not what i said, are you deaf?" he clicked his tongue with a glare, the hand on your chin coming up to flick your foreheadβalbeit painless, so unlike his usual flicks. "i'm telling you to leave because i won't be here if anything happens while i'm in sumeru. you're leaving this place for your own safety."
dumbfounded, you tilt your head in silent confusion.
"you're still stupid as ever."
"i'm not," you pout.
"if you're not then you should know why you have to leave, idiot," scaramouche leans a little close to speak quietly, a stern look in his eyes that speaks volume of how important his next words are, "listen carefully. i will have to stay in sumeru for a very long time and the doctor will be there. do you still remember the doctor?"
"yes," you nod, "the psycho man with a mask."
you're a psycho yourself, he thought.
"that's right, but he's not the only one i'm looking out for. the other idiots in the fatui are going to come after you if they see the chance to do so. i know you're capable on your own, but those are harbingers that can and will eliminate you if you give them the smallest reason to do so," his eyebrows furrow at his own wordsβmental images of the things they can possibly do to you shall you defy their orders and he resist the urge to shiverβ"that's why you're leaving. run as far away as you can and never leave a trace. don't let others see you, hear you, or even have the slightest chance of getting to you," a hand cups your puffy cheek, eyes staring right into yours as if looking through your soul.
so⦠he's not throwing me out?
"am i understood?"
with a sniff, you nod your head, wiping your tears sloppily before he scoffs and does it himself, a pair of cold hands that's been tainted in blood now gently wipes the crystal pearls from your cheeks.
"what about you?"
"what about me?" he echoed.
"promise me you'll come find me?"
taken aback, his hand leaves your cheeks for a moment, eyes wide with a combination of awe and disbelief. he feels uncertainty and a sense of dejavu overcome his senses, a fear making itself known at the back of his mind despite burying it six feet underground and more. the fire that burnt bright in his chest begins to distinguish, flickers of flame wavering and embers diminishing. this only happens for a second, before he steels himself and searches for any hint of deception in yours. yet he finds none in those hopeful eyes that dares demand him of promises.
how audacious of you to ask promises from him?
"are you dumb? who says anything about
not coming back?" his hand holds your cheeks once more, distracting himself by pinching the skin. "you belong to the spot next to me first and foremost, i thought i made that clear the first day i dragged you out of the streets?" he clicks his tongue, squishing your already pouty cheeks. "what? do you think this is your chance to finally leave? hah! you can't get away from me no matter where you hide, brat."
"ow!" you whine, trying to pull away from his hand but he pulls you close by your shoulders. almost immediately, your head nestles itself on his shoulder.
"i'll do whatever you ask me for," you exhaled a shaky breath, "as long as you promise to come find me."
if he had a heart, he knows it would be aching at the way you instantly melt in his armsβyou're already small, yet you still manage to hide yourself within his hold.
it almost seems like you're hiding from the world by snuggling in his arms.
"i'll come find you," he ascertained, a hand brushing through your hair, "i'll make sure to bring you back. so for the meantime, you better stay alive."
"i will, i promise."
scaramouche closes his eyes, feeling his stomach drop at your words.
β« earphone users
β« will give you one if you want to know what he listening to
β« listens to music basically everywhere
β« mainly calm music
β« likeee cigarettes after sex, arctic monkeys, tv girl, rises the moon
β« probably does covers of songs
xiao
β« headphones or airpods
β« he'll let you have one if he uses airpods <3
β« indie music, rock, alternative pop (? whatever genre mitski is)
β« music everywhere, any time because people suck sometimes
β« anywayz listens to arctim monkey, weezer, my chemical romance, mother mother, mitski, maybe laufey or hyperpop sometimes
β« plays either drums or electric guitar! maybe both. has tried teaching you before!
venti
β« headphones or just playing it without anything
β« likes bopping his head to the beat
β« his expression will literally just be :3
β« listens to pop music, but anything is fine with him
β« stuff like vocaloid, yoasobi, anime openings, mesmerizer, jack stauber
β« occasionally laufey or mitski if he's in the mood
β« does tiktok dance trends, or dance trends in general, and will drag you in to join!
β« venti as hanako
β« you as nene
β« aether as kou
β« the unknown bard as tsukasa
β« albedo as shijima
β« lumine as teru
β« zhongli as kako
β« scara could be akane (idk how it'd work tho :P)
β« barbara or nilou could be aoi
